Chapter 72: I can’t be gay.
Blurry.
’Why can’t I see?’ Charles inwardly questioned himself.
He fluttered his eyelashes a few times before slamming his cheek heavily, trying to snap out of his slumber.
His eyes became wide open, and he noticed that he was staring at the ceiling, his breath extremely heavy.
’What the hell just happened?’
"Pookie!" Augustine’s voice rang out, laced with both concern.
Charles blinked rapidly, his lashes fluttering as if trying to clear away the remnants of a heavy sleep.
His gaze shifted sluggishly to the side, where Augustine stood in front of the wardrobe, arms crossed, his brows arched in sharp curiosity.
The intensity in his eyes was unmistakable, scanning Charles as if searching for signs of distress.
"Are you alright?" Augustine pressed, his voice softer this time, yet firm, unwilling to be brushed off.
Augustine was dressed in a pair of white long sleeves and a dark blue trouser.
Charles’s eyes widened in shock as realization dawned on him. ’So... everything that happened was just a wild dream?’
Charles thoughts raced, his heartbeat hammering against his chest.
Then it hit him.
’Wait... I had a sex dream about Augustine.’
Charles breath caught in his throat, and a deep heat spread across his face.
Panic settled in as he dared a glance at Augustine, who was still watching him with those sharp, inquisitive eyes.
His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he continued to recall how Augustine had spread his ass, spit on him and even fingered his ass.
"Hey!" Augustine called out because Charles was still yet to reply to his previous question.
The call from Augustine made Charles snap out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?" Agustine went on to question Charles.
Charles gulped hard. "I... I am not alright," he stuttered, sitting up in bed and taking a deep breath.
Hearing Charles’s words, Augustine stepped away from the wardrobe and closed the distance between them.
Augustine sat beside Charles on the bed, his brows furrowing with concern as he reached out and gently placed his palm against Charles’s forehead.
His touch was warm, steady and filled with an unspoken worry. "Your body is warm," he murmured, his voice laced with quiet concern.
Charles gave a small, brief nod, but uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
Lifting his own hand, he pressed his palm against his neck, trying to gauge if Augustine was right or if it was just his nerves playing tricks on him.
"I... I had a dream." Charles mumbled, his words trailing after each other as he pulled his hand away. "It was the creepiest dream of my entire life," he added, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would make the dream feel even more real.
Augustine, concerned about Charles’s health, slid his hands beneath him.
With a swift motion, he lifted Charles effortlessly, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.
"Augustine!" Charles gasped, his voice laced with both surprise and frustration as he slammed his fist against Augustine’s firm chest. "Put me down this instant," he demanded, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"I’ll drop you off when we get to the hospital," Augustine explained, heading straight to the door.
Charles quickly shook his head from side to side, his breath hitching as he tried to resist. "I... I am not sick, okay," he stammered, his voice edged with frustration.
He kicked his legs in the air, a desperate attempt to break free, but Augustine’s grip remained firm, his hold unwavering.
Nevertheless...
Augustine ignored Charles’s pleas and continued striding toward the sitting room.
Just as he reached for the exit door, Charles, in a fit of frustration, balled his fist and landed a solid punch against Augustine’s cheek.
’Boom!’
The force of the impact made Augustine’s head snap to the side, his jaw tightening as he slowly turned back to face Charles.
In an instant, he immediately became immobile.
Augustine’s tongue languidly traced over the spot where Charles had struck him, his jaw tightening as a slow, unreadable smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I... I am sorry," Charles stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he nervously bit his lower lip.
His fingers curled into Augustine’s shirt, his pulse quickening. "I... I didn’t mean to hit you."
Augustine’s grip didn’t loosen.
Instead, his smirk deepened as he leaned in just enough for Charles to feel his warm breath against his ear. "Oh?" His voice was dangerously low, teasing, almost amused. "Then what did you mean to do, Pookie?"
"I...."
Charles words trailed off as Augustine leaned away from his face.
He swallows hard, turn around before proceeding to drop Charles on the couch. "Are you sure that you’re alright?"
Charles nod.
"It’s just that I had a really weird dream," Charles explained, trying not to meet the gaze of Augustine.
Sigh!!
Augustine sighed as he took a seat beside Charles, his gaze steady and concerned. "What exactly did you dream about?" he asked, his voice warm yet firm. "I have an early business meeting, but I need to know you’re alright before I leave."
He leaned in slightly, searching Charles’s face for any sign of unease. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" His tone was gentle, but there was an unmistakable seriousness in his eyes.
Charles became quiet.
Augustine gently tilted Charles’s chin, his thumb grazing the soft skin beneath as he lifted his face.
His gaze locked onto Charles’s trembling eyes, filled with something he couldn’t quite place—hesitation, maybe even fear.
"Pookie, I need you to talk to me," Augustine murmured, his voice low and coaxing, his concern evident in every word.
Charles swallowed hard, averting his gaze as his breath hitched. "It... it was just a weird dream. It doesn’t mean anything," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, yet the slight quiver in his tone betrayed him.
Augustine nod. "Is the dream so weird that you don’t feel like telling me? Is it some sort of nightmare?"
Charles shook his head sideways. "It’s... can’t you just leave for your business meeting?" He probed, feeling a bit embarrassed as he continued to stare at Augustine.
Augustine’s intense gaze sent a shiver down Charles’s spine, and almost instantly, a wave of embarrassment washed over him.
Charles cheeks burned as the vivid images of his dream resurfaced. He clenched his fists on his lap, forcing himself to look anywhere but at Augustine, yet the weight of that gaze held him captive.
"Just speak to me already. Are you sure that you are alright—"
"It’s a sex dream, Augustine. I had a sex dream about you." Charles snapped, cutting Augustine off from completing his sentence.
What followed next was silence as Augustine’s mouth became slightly open. "H-huh?" He probed, fluttering his eyelashes while trying to dilute the phrase of Charles. "What... what did you just say?" He inquired, wanting to hear Charles rephrase his statement once more.
Charles rolled his eyes. "You already heard me correctly, okay." Charles snapped, slightly pushing Augustine’s shoulder.
With that, Charles rose from his seated position, making his way towards the refrigerator.
He grabbed a bottle of water and as he opened it, he drank the entire context in one gulp. "Now that you know why I’m feeling weird, I think it’s best if you leave now," Charles muttered, avoiding Augustine’s gaze.
Meanwhile, Augustine was still seated on the couch, still stunned due to Charles’s explanation. "How..."
Augustine opened his mouth to speak but he just didn’t know where exactly to start from.
He rose from the couch, ran his tongue around his lips before placing his hands deep inside his trouser pocket.
"I... I don’t understand." Augustine began, pausing his phrase for a second. "Why did you have a sex dream about me?" He questioned.
Before Charles could even respond, Augustine fired more questions his way. "Was it because you stared at my butt last night? Or is it because you’re starting to have feelings for me? And by feelings, I mean romantic ones."
The more Augustine kept on throwing more at Charles, the more he took further steps by walking towards where Charles stood.
As he stood at the kitchen, he pulled his hands from his trouser pockets and, without a word, reached forward to tighten the belt of Charles’s bathrobe.
"Are you in love with me?"
Charles scoffed, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "I can’t be. I am not gay." He spat, but his words sounded more like if he was trying to convince himself.
Augustine inhaled sharply, his fingers lingering on the knot of Charles’s bathrobe. "Last night, I also had a sex dream about you," he admitted, his voice quieter than before.
He paused, searching Charles’s eyes for a reaction. "Almost every night, I do have sex dreams about you... but now that we’re both having sex dreams about each other..." His voice trailed off, the weight of his confession hanging between them.
He placed his thumb on Charles’s lips. "Why don’t we both fulfil our sexual desire right now? Besides, I have a whole lot of things that I am going to do to you." Augustine purred seductively, his words dripping with sensuality and temptation.
Charles frowned, raising his right hand as he...