Chapter 7

“Hey, Dante. It’s already next week, isn’t it? Did you decide who’s watching your Lily?”

Dante was deep into weight training at the base training ground after the morning meeting when Kirk, who had come in late, greeted him with the question. A pilot who took charge of helicopter flights, Kirk was a veteran who would complete twenty years of service the year after next, and a good-natured colleague who helped ease the stiff, stressful atmosphere of their New York base.

Among the countless Coast Guard bases in the United States, New York was one of the assignments everyone actively avoided. It was especially painful for people like Dante, who had become a rescue swimmer specifically to save lives. Since it was the center of the country where all kinds of high-profile events were held, they were often deployed for tedious political functions. Whenever an international conference took place, they had to drift endlessly over the sea and rivers doing nothing but keeping watch. Since being posted to New York, Dante had probably gone out onto the water more often for YouTuber filming assistance, publicity, and local events than for actual life-and-death rescues.

Anywhere else, rescue personnel shared an unbreakable bond because they were directly responsible for one another’s lives. At the New York base, however, the relatively low sense of fulfillment from the work made the emotional bond between colleagues even more crucial. Since everyone was stuck there until their contract term ended, the team treated one another like family, and naturally, they knew all about one another’s private schedules.

Usually, that was helpful. Today, it was a nightmare.

Dante had been focusing hard on the physical exertion to forget, even for a moment, the sadness of failing to reach Rhys despite going all the way to Central Park, and Kirk had destroyed that effort beautifully with a single question. Dante all but threw the heavy barbell he had been holding down onto the floor. At the heavy, vibrating thud against the mat, Kirk stared at him in surprise.

“What’s wrong? Something happen?” Kirk asked, blinking.

Something? Of course something happened. My pretty boy left me. He even took Lily—the child we raised so sweetly together—and walked out. In truth, Lily had always lived at Rhys’s place, but emotionally speaking, that was exactly how it felt.

Dante hesitated before answering.

Quite some time had passed since he and Rhys had broken up, but he had not yet told his colleagues. Perhaps because he was gradually realizing this breakup was entirely different from his usual ones, he felt that if he explained the situation to others, they would offer comfort while acting as if it were truly over. He had no confidence he could bear that finality, so he had kept his mouth shut. And of all things, Kirk had to ask that exact question.

As Dante had told Rhys in his message, next week was supposed to be their fourth anniversary. Thursday, March 12. He had first met Rhys in late summer, in August, and after more than half a year of dates they had never formally called dates, they had finally become lovers in March.

They had started planning last year to take a massive trip for that very anniversary, and soon that day would arrive.

“I jogged this morning, so maybe I’m just tired,” Dante muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What do you mean, next week?”

He did not want to explain that they had broken up, but he also did not want to talk about the trip, so Dante feigned ignorance. He hoped Kirk’s memory had degraded to Lily’s level and that the matter would pass, but unfortunately, no such luck occurred. Kirk’s expression grew increasingly serious before he returned with a careful, probing question.

“You said you were going to Europe. You sang about going to Rome for your fourth anniversary every single time I saw you. Did something really happen? There’s no way I’d forget anything involving that prince of yours.”

Dante stood there and simply stared at Kirk. For a moment, he could not properly hear what Kirk was saying, as if the sound had merely brushed past his ears without registering. Then, belatedly, along with the word Rome, the words slowly became meaningful language and re-entered his mind. One by one, the details of the trip he had deliberately buried because he did not want to think about it came rushing back to him.

This anniversary was special. That was why they had decided long ago to go abroad.

Until now, they had only taken road trips somewhere nearby over the weekends, rather than traveling on the anniversary itself, but the fourth anniversary meant an incredible deal to both Dante and Rhys. After learning that neither of them had ever dated anyone for more than three years, they had promised to properly celebrate making it to year four. Dante’s longest relationship had lasted one year at most, while Rhys, unlike him, seemed to have maintained relationships for about two or three years once he committed to someone. Still, when Rhys casually mentioned he had never dated anyone for four whole years, Dante had resolved to make this a day they would remember for the rest of their lives.

“Where do you want to go, Rhys? Let’s go wherever you want,” Dante had asked his beautiful lover, four years younger than himself, intentionally dropping his voice to a deep, intimate register.

Rhys, seeming to fall for him all over again when Dante acted so forcefully with that manly, handsome face of his, had blushed, answering shyly, “How about Rome? There’s a lot to see, and it’s the city where Dante’s parents first met.”

“My beautiful flower is as romantic as his name,” Dante had grinned, pulling him close. “Good. Rome it is. I’ve wanted to go anyway.”

“Europe takes two days just for the round trip,” Rhys pointed out softly. “Will that be all right?”

“For you, I’ll make damn sure I get the leave.”

Dante still remembered that day vividly. It had been right after their sex, which occurred once a week almost like a scheduled weekly event. Now that he thought about it, why had he ended up giving up his ass in the first place? These days, apparently, even if two men dated, they did not necessarily have to go all the way to penetrative sex.

Of course, Dante had a rather strong sex drive, and because he very much wanted to sleep with a man as breathtakingly beautiful as Rhys, one of them was bound to end up underneath sooner or later. While they were dating, Dante had assumed they might need a deep, serious discussion about roles, but when Rhys had looked up at him and asked, “Can I put it in?” Dante somehow found himself nodding.

He had probably been completely bewitched by the man’s face.

After he could not bring himself to refuse the request of his younger lover—who had asked with such a shy, intensely excited expression—and gave up his rear once, Dante’s position stayed firmly fixed there.

In truth, Dante still could not climax from penetration alone. According to what other people said online, getting fucked without touching the front could produce tremendous, mind-blowing pleasure, but Dante still had to manually touch his own cock to come.

It wasn’t that he felt nothing from behind. When his prostate was pressed, a tingling, deep pleasure completely different from touching his cock did rise through his abdomen. But the stimulation from a man’s cock going in and out of his hole alone was simply not enough to tip him over the edge.

It was probably because Rhys’s style of sex was fairly refined. “Refined” was a nice way to put it. In reality, it lacked raw thrill and intensity. It was too ordinary, perhaps. The positions were always strictly missionary or doggy style, and before they even started, Rhys loosened him up with gentle, perfectly well-behaved foreplay. That was just Rhys’s way of having sex.

It wasn’t bad, but it didn’t quite match Dante’s actual taste. Dante liked being driven so hard he couldn’t think. Controlling the pace and leaving his partner completely breathless and unable to regain his senses had always been Dante’s usual method when he was with women.

Still, well… if a man that handsome and good-natured were also a god at sex, that would be unfair to the rest of the world. Besides, Rhys’s cock was as large and flawless as his appearance. When he pushed it all the way in, it had genuinely startled Dante by hitting some strange, deep place.

On the one occasion when Rhys had inserted himself fully to the absolute deepest point, Dante had been frightened by the bizarre, overwhelming sensation he experienced for the first time in his life. It had felt difficult to endure, goose bumps continuously rising all the way to his scalp, as though a cock had invaded somewhere it was never supposed to enter.

Afraid something might physically go wrong if they continued like that, Dante had asked Rhys not to insert himself all the way to the hilt from then on. Rhys had looked intently at Dante’s face for a while before smiling softly and agreeing. Since making that promise, Rhys had never once pushed all the way in.

Around this time, after using three habitual breakup announcements to move his relationship with Rhys all the way to sex, Dante had been thoroughly fired up and had grown addicted to mixing bodies with him. Then, after experiencing that unknowable, frightening sensation of being struck deep inside his belly, he became a little more passive. From that point onward, their sex grew even more static and textbook.

Meaning, it got a little more boring.

Still, sleeping with Rhys was always deeply satisfying. The way those gray-blue eyes, normally as calm as a still lake, watched Dante with unmistakable, burning desire, or the way Rhys’s perfect face became erotically disheveled right before climax, were things Dante could see only during sex.

When Dante lay pressed closely against Rhys and took in those secret, vulnerable sides of him that no one else on earth would ever know, a shiver of profound satisfaction filled him all the way to his head. Seventy percent of Dante’s own climaxes came from the mental satisfaction and visual stimulation of seeing Rhys feel pleasure.

Sometimes, giving up an ass he had thought he would never use in his life made him internally conflicted, but when he saw that side of Rhys, it became entirely bearable. Occasionally, the desire surged in him to switch positions, drive Rhys mercilessly until he could not think, and make him cry. But Rhys, who usually did everything Dante asked, steadfastly refused to yield on this one point, so Dante let him have his way.

What could he do? His cute prince wanted it. At times like this, the older partner had to step back.

In any case, they had planned their fourth anniversary trip right after finishing a round of sex. After sex like that—peaceful and satisfying regardless of how they got there—Rhys tended to remain inserted inside Dante for a long while. Everything else Rhys did was almost textbook, but Dante did not dislike the fact that he acted unusually possessive in this regard. That time too, after coming, Rhys had held Dante tightly in his arms with himself still inside him, whispering against his neck.

“Then I’ll book the flights.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Dante had murmured back.

“You paid for the driving and the accommodations every time we travel. Let me treat you this time.”

The fact that his beautiful young lover recognized his efforts made Dante’s chest itch with affection. He also felt deeply respected. In all his past relationships, Dante had always been the one paying, never the one being treated. He had no complaint about playing that provider role, but because no love had ever come back to him in the past, he often felt empty. Rhys was different. He always rejoiced in everything Dante did.

“Then let me book the accommodations like usual,” Dante had offered.

“Yes. I’ll leave that to you.”

Rhys had smiled until his beautiful eyes curved softly. How could a person be that breathtaking? After seeing him for so long, Dante should have gotten used to him, but he never did. The man felt entirely new every time.

As Dante had gazed at his face in absolute bliss, he felt Rhys’s cock, which had been resting quietly inside him, harden abruptly. Rhys read the way Dante flinched and smiled knowingly.

“Ignore it. Dante looked so pretty that I reacted for a second.”

“Pretty? That’s my line for you.”

When Dante reached out and stroked his lover’s lovely blond hair, Rhys laughed low in his throat. Contrary to his claim that it would settle down quickly, Rhys remained hard inside him for about another twenty minutes, though he did not try to initiate sex again. The next day, Dante belatedly thought that it would not have been bad if he had.

There had been days like that. Days when they lay together skin to skin, sharing secret moments they would never show anyone else. Until only two months ago, that had been a given.

After savoring the rapture of the past for a while, Dante slowly pulled himself back to reality. The days when one look at Rhys could make him forget how difficult or exhausting work became were entirely gone. What existed in Dante’s life now was nothing but repeated commutes, the cheapest beer, greasy slices of pizza, and a workplace swarming with muscular men.

Fantastic.

Because he had foolishly believed Rhys would come back until very recently, the last two months had been sad, but not this depressing. It would be a lie to say he had not been anxious, of course. Still, he had thought this was just their longest cold war ever, believing that if he could somehow meet Rhys face-to-face, things would eventually smooth out as they always had.

But after seeing Rhys look so entirely cold at the café ten days ago, Dante’s baseless confidence had begun to evaporate. With every passing day, his impatience rose, and his fear that this might truly be the end only grew.

And the anniversary trip struck right at the dead center of that fear.

“…Right. My leave is next week.”

Dante admitted it in a lifeless voice. He really hadn’t wanted to think about it, but Kirk had brought it up, and the date was right around the corner. It was about time he started facing reality.

Dante’s greatest strengths were his groundless optimism and excellent resilience; he was usually in a good mood. Right now, however, he couldn’t manage a bright tone. Hearing that obviously gloomy voice, Kirk thought for a moment, then spoke with a look of understanding.

***