The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 11: Drunken Words

When Kyle returned to the carriage, Milo was not wearing a dark look at all. Instead his face was all vivid red, his collar open, even his neck and ear tips flushed with color, so pretty it seemed he might drip with it.

A wine bottle he had somehow dug out from somewhere lay rolling on the carpet. He was half sitting, half reclining, leaning against the cushion, his eyes lowered, his palm propping up his cheek, as if in deep sleep. He looked exactly like a greedy little drunk cat.

Kyle laughed silently. He drew closer, his fingertips about to brush the drunk cat’s stray hairs, when golden eyes suddenly snapped open and fixed directly on him.

“Does she like you or something?” Milo blurted out of nowhere, his breath wrapped in the thick scent of fruit wine, sweet and cloying with a sour undertone. “Coming so quickly to pay you back? What kind of repayment are you planning to let her give?”

Kyle was startled, then realized he was talking about Charlotte. He broke into a smile, his black eyes shining like stars in the night. “Young Master, you misunderstand. I follow you. Why would I need her repayment?”

“Hmph, you don’t need it?” Milo’s eyes were bleary with drink, his words unclear and muddled, soft as paste. “She said she would remember it in her heart. Letting down a fine lady is not gentlemanly behavior.”

“Young Master worries too much,” Kyle picked up the blanket and covered him with it, his fingers lightly tracing over the blanket as if caressing the boy’s figure, coaxing softly. “Those were merely polite formalities.”

“Formalities?” Milo struggled free of the blanket in dissatisfaction, pushed himself up to sit, yet his hands went soft and he pitched forward. Kyle caught him in his arms with quick eyes and deft hands.

Milo lay soft and limp against Kyle’s chest, yet his spirit was not weak at all. He raised his eyes to glare, his gaze swimming with drunken moisture, muttering indistinctly. “I was the one who gave her the piano, yet she wants to repay you. What kind of formality is that?”

The female lead having good feelings toward the male lead should have been a good thing. Besides, the matter of the piano had indeed been handled entirely by Kyle. But for some reason, he was just annoyed.

Annoyed that whatever the male lead did was right. Annoyed that Charlotte did not even know the two of them yet and was already playing favorites. Annoyed that he had spent the whole evening forcing smiles, yet could not compare to the male lead playing one piece on the piano.

“I think she is a complete idiot, what proper upbringing and inner grace! Her brain got squeezed by a door, she can’t even tell master from servant!” Milo grew angrier as he spoke, waving his hands and feet about in excitement. Kyle had to hold him firmly in his arms and soothe him quietly.

Milo still would not let it go, thrashing about wildly, cursing and muttering. After a spell of frantic commotion, Milo was directly pressed by Kyle onto his lap, his back against the man’s broad chest, his waist and arms pinned firmly in place, unable to move. He twisted uselessly for a while longer, let out a wine burp, and finally quieted down somewhat.

The carriage rolled slowly along. Milo swayed and leaned in Kyle’s arms, drowsy and half asleep, his eyes half closed, his mouth now and then murmuring faintly, thin as a mosquito’s hum, as if in dream, as if awake.

“Young Master, do not trouble yourself over these people. They are all unimportant small fry.” Sensing Milo gradually relaxing, Kyle also released his hold, one arm circling his waist, the other tucking a tangled lock of golden hair behind his ear, revealing a small earlobe, whispering. “You said it yourself, they are all just NPCs, right?”

“NPC?” Milo shook his head in a daze, his fuzzy head rubbing against the man’s chin. “Charlotte she… hic… is not an NPC…”

A faint dimness flickered in Kyle’s eyes, his tone growing even softer. “Then what is she?”

“She is…” Milo shook his head this way and that, not knowing what he thought of, his brow furrowing. “She is an annoying pest! Acting all high and mighty! If not for you, see if I wouldn’t destroy her…”

“For me?” Kyle laughed low, pulling him closer. “For me in what way?”

“Of course for you…” Milo half opened his eyelids, his drunken eyes misty, as if pondering something, then suddenly broke into a silly grin. “I just need to take good care of you… Kyle…”

Milo turned his head and looked up at him, his golden eyes hazy with fog, as if sunset light were flowing and shifting, alluring in his intoxication. He raised his hand to stroke the man’s face, his gaze scattered yet brilliantly radiant, somewhat pleased with himself, somewhat mischievous, his smile dazzling. “You are my only one…” And he even pinched the man’s firm chin.

The man lowered his eyes, rubbing against the boy’s palm as if enjoying his touch, as if absorbing his scent. He opened his mouth and licked the finger, and when the finger paused in slow delay, he sucked it in and nibbled gently.

Milo was probably too drunk to know what was what. Not only did he not find it improper, he laughed out loud as if discovering something fun, withdrawing his finger and lightly patting the man’s cheek, teasing yet carrying a childish charm. “You are my only… mission.”

Kyle lowered his head, burying himself deep in the fair neck, sighing as he sniffed the boy’s fragrance, kissing across the shoulder line, the side of the neck, the earlobe, finally catching the ear cartilage in a light bite, murmuring softly. “Young Master, what mission?”

The man’s voice carried a husky note of arousal, like warm wine slowly seeping into every nerve. Both gentle, and bewitching.

“Ngh… the mission is…” Made somewhat ticklish by the man, Milo tucked in his neck, his brows and eyes narrowing into slender lines, pink lips parted slightly, letting out a comfortable sigh, as if completely melting into this honeyed tenderness.

Kyle took the opportunity to undo the boy’s buttons and slip his hand inside, freely enjoying the smooth tenderness of his skin, enjoying the boy trembling under his fingers. He whispered hoarsely. “Young Master, what mission? Tell me…”

“Ngh… it is…” Milo was foggy and muddled, as if immersed in a warm ocean, ripples spreading, his whole body comfortably relaxed, the lingering warmth at his ear carrying boneless tenderness, intoxicated and lost, then suddenly he let out a snicker, a sly bad smile. “Not telling you.”

The man laughed low, his large hand roaming over the boy’s body, the fair and delicate skin like the finest mutton fat jade, making him linger and forget to return. He traced past the waist, the navel, the chest and belly, the collarbone, finally slipping to the nipple, lightly teasing and rubbing.

“Ngh…” Milo breathed out softly, his body shrinking back unconsciously, his small hand weakly landing on the roaming hand, yet unable to stop the large palm’s trespass. His legs were held open by the man’s knees, spread left and right.

“Young Master, really not going to tell?…” The man’s hand continued playing with the little buds, while the other slid toward the boy’s groin, slipping into his trousers. He bit at the ear and whispered. “Tell me, and I’ll make you feel good…”

“Ngh…” Milo threw his head back, pink lips parted, sighing out spring breaths, yet his legs trembled fiercely, instinctively wanting to clamp shut.

Ever since he had his first taste from Kyle’s mouth, Milo had caused no end of trouble to make him “please” him, almost replacing all punishment with indulgence. In his wantonness, his lower body had grown more sensitive. Yet the man used a hand calloused from sword practice to tease the most delicate place.

“Ahhh… stop…” The boy gasped in surprise, carrying a whimper of yielding, yet also carrying an intoxicating sweetness, the red flush of desire staining his snow white skin, so pretty and moving it aroused pity.

“Young Master likes it very much…” Kyle simply pulled out the boy’s arousal and toyed with it in his palm. The jade stem trembled and leaked crystal droplets, quickly wiped away by rough fingers and smeared onto the rounded tip, adding more redness and wetness. “Right, every time I touch you like this, you get so wet it feels good…”

Milo breathed heavily, his chest heaving violently, his shirt already completely open, his fair curves fully exposed. The fingers teasing his nipples grew more provocative, now pressing and circling, now pinching and pulling between fingertips, teasing the red buds into pert prettiness.

“Ngh ngh… ahh…” Milo twisted in unbearable need, his little bottom rubbing against the man’s groin, moaning continuously. The man’s breathing grew heavy, a dim fire flashing in his eyes. He turned Milo’s face and kissed him.

The boy’s scorching breath carried the sweet fragrance of wine. He greedily drank in the boy’s essence, licking over and over, grinding and lingering.

“Ngh… ngh…” Milo half dream, half awake, his lashes fluttering, his delicate face full of desire, his little mouth instinctively sucking, making unclear sounds.

Sensing Milo’s response, Kyle let out a muffled laugh, pulling the boy tight against him, one hand lightly holding his chin, delving deeper to toy with his pink tongue in tangled intimacy, the other hand growing more unrestrained in its teasing strokes, fondling the shaft, rubbing the sac, caressing the head.

Milo’s vital spot was like some fun toy in the man’s hand, played with freely, fondled without end, yet tugging at the boy’s nerves, commanding the boy’s passion to rise in layers.

“Ngh ngh… ngh…” Pleasure struck, building layer upon layer, his whole body tingling with shaking numbness. The boy began pushing back in stimulation, yet his moans were all sealed in his mouth. The stroking at his lower body mixed with slick fluids, making lewd wet sounds.

Milo trembled, wanting to clamp his legs shut, yet they were pushed even wider by the man’s knees. The man thrust his hips, his hardness rubbing against the elastic flesh of the boy’s bottom, while forcing the boy to arch out his waist more, sending his arousal into the large palm for his wanton play.

Milo whimpered and moaned, struggling soft and weak. In his passion his eyes half opened, yet his gaze was unfocused, desire burning every inch of his skin, fragrant sweat pouring as he glowed with a scorched red, as if he might burn completely away.

As if more familiar with his body than the owner himself, the large hand flew, lips and tongue licked and kissed, densely and continuously enveloping the boy, making him immersed in a sea of desire and passion, lost and sinking, yet firmly holding the rhythm of the surging tide, rising and falling, climbing higher and higher.

“Young Master… does it feel good?” Kyle released Milo’s mouth, licking and kissing the saliva at the corner of the boy’s lips, as if comforting, as if tempting. “Want it? Tell me… what is the mission?”

“Ahh… ahhh… it feels so good…” The moment his red lips were free, he moaned loudly without restraint, Milo’s whole body shaking violently, his golden eyes rolling back, toes curling, his whole person completely lost in the massive waves of pleasure, crying out. “Ahh… quickly… I’m going to come…”

“If you want to come, you have to say what the mission is?” The man suddenly stopped his stroking, only using two fingers to circle the tip, the pads lightly scratching and rubbing the ridge, teasing the whole jade stem into trembling.

“I’ll say… I’ll say…” The boy’s whole body tensed, his expression pained, almost about to cry, his hands clutching at the man’s wrist helplessly, urgently biting at the man’s chin. “Let me come quickly!”

“Young Master is so cute.” Kyle laughed, both hands covering him again, yet more wildly, one hand stroking fast, the other rubbing the sac, whispering amid the boy’s continuous moans. “Young Master, come for me.”

As if receiving some kind of permission, Milo suddenly arched up, crying out in surprise, white fluid finally spurting out, shooting all over his own belly. Then he collapsed limply in the man’s arms, gasping for breath.

“Young Master is very sweet…” Kyle’s fingertips touched the glistening white fluid, raised it to his tongue to lick, then gathered a bit more and brought it to the boy’s mouth, teasing the pink tongue. “Young Master, taste it.”

The fishy smell made the boy furrow his brow. He turned his head slightly, unable to break free, so he did not resist further, whether from weakness or laziness. His mouth hung slightly open, letting himself be played with, his eyes half closed, drowsily about to fall asleep.

Hearing Milo’s even breathing, Kyle withdrew his fingers and lightly stroked the boy’s face, trying to rouse a bit of attention. “Young Master, you still have not said what the mission is?”

“Ngh… the mission is…” Milo pouted, wrinkling his nose, waving away the bothersome hand as if swatting a mosquito. “Not telling.” His breathing grew slow and low, then a faint snore emerged, as if he had already entered dreamland.

So he still would not tell after all? Kyle was helpless. Whether drunk and talking nonsense, or sick and completely out of it, every time the mission or plot was mentioned, his lips were sealed tight.

Yet Kyle was not anxious. Although Milo had never confessed it himself, he had more or less figured it out. Even if he only regarded it all as the boy’s fantasies, that adorable fantasy went straight to Kyle’s heart.

“I know,” the man lowered his head and whispered. “I am the only one who matters. You only need to think of me. Right, Young Master.”

The carriage slowly rolled into the ducal manor. Milo was wrapped snugly in the blanket, held in Kyle’s arms, sleeping soundly.

When Kyle stepped down from the carriage, he cast a faint glance at the coachman standing with bowed head. The coachman kept his eyes on his nose and his nose on his heart, as if he had seen nothing and cared for nothing.

Once Kyle had gone, the coachman immediately climbed into the carriage, nimbly tidying up the mess and thoroughly erasing all traces of debauchery from the room.