Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are So Hot! [BL]-Chapter 197: Endurance and Embraces

Regret hit Damien like a wave as Sitta continued his bizarre, scent-obsessed ritual.

Damien recalled his bath at Caius’s place—it had been a thorough one, and Caius had even helped wash him. But since then, he’d spent most of his time outside, his feet encased in leather shoes and socks.

Now, as Sitta’s warm breath brushed against the soles of his feet, Damien felt like crying.

"Master Damien..." Sitta called out his name dreamily, snapping Damien out of his desperate attempts to mentally escape the situation.

Damien looked toward him, only to see Sitta looming over him, his hands planted firmly on either side of Damien’s waist. Even through the blindfold, Damien could make out Sitta’s face who is flushed and euphoric in a way that sent a chill down his spine.

"Master Damien... Forgive me!" Sitta suddenly exclaimed.

Before Damien could respond, Sitta slid downward and positioning himself between Damien’s legs. He pressed his face against Damien’s groin and sniffing it deeply.

"Aah... Master Damien’s scent... It’s so strong..."

Tears began to spilled down from Damien’s cheeks and soaking into the blindfold.

This... this was too unbearable. But stopping Sitta now might be make the boy sad.

Endure it, Damien. Just endure it. Become one with the void.

"Master Damien... Master Damien..." Sitta murmured, his voice heavy with bliss as he nuzzled and inhaled the scent from his groin.

Damien’s cheeks flushed red as Sitta pressed his face even closer. Although he do t want it but his body betrayed him, and he couldn’t stop the inevitable.

"Ah... Master Damien’s scent is getting stronger...♡" Sitta said, his voice laced with pure adoration.

Damien wanted to disappear into the mattress.

For the remainder of their time, Sitta stayed focused on sniffing Damien’s groin, even going so far as to bury his head beneath Damien’s long nightshirt.

When Sitta tried tugging at Damien’s waistband, though, Damien fought him off with every ounce of strength he had.

Finally, it was over. Damien removed the blindfold, utterly drained. Across from him, Sitta sat with a contented expression, his face glowing with satisfaction as he bowed deeply.

"Thank you so much, Master!" Sitta said cheerfully.

Damien’s gaze fell on the conspicuous bulge in Sitta’s pants. Sitta, however, didn’t seem to notice it—or at least, he didn’t understand what it meant.

Sitta’s peculiar tendencies had clearly outpaced his understanding of them.

As Damien watched the boy’s bright, innocent smile, he sighed, feeling utterly defeated. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle Sitta’s interests in the future.

And then, it was Arba’a’s turn.

Damien’s mental and emotional reserves were already running on fumes after dealing with Tis’a and Sitta. But three siblings still remained.

You can do this, Damien. Just three more.

Sitting across from Arba’a, Damien noticed that the boy seemed unusually shy. Arba’a fidgeted his finger and avoided his gaze, clearly struggling to express what he wanted.

If Arba’a simply wanted to sit quietly, Damien would have been happy to oblige. But it didn’t seem like that was the case.

Considering Arba’a’s habit of crawling into Damien’s bed at night, perhaps all he wanted was to lie down together. It wouldn’t be real sleep, but lying down for a while might suffice.

Damien was just about to suggest this when Arba’a finally spoke, his voice trembling.

"A-Um..."

"Hm? Did you think of something?" Damien prompted gently.

Arba’a’s face flushed with crimson red, his eyes squeezed shut as if steeling himself. He opened and closed his mouth in mortified silence, trying to get the words out.

"It’s okay. Whatever it is, just say it. Don’t be embarrassed," Damien encouraged gently.

He’d regretted telling Sitta earlier that he would do "anything," but with Arba’a looking this flustered, there wasn’t much choice.

Arba’a’s shy demeanor made Damien a little bit nervous about what he might request, but after surviving from Sitta’s request, Damien felt like nothing could faze him now.

"Um... c-can I... be held?" Arba’a finally stammered, his voice starting strong but gradually dwindling to a barely audible whisper.

Being held? Damien almost laughed at how adorable and innocent the request was, especially compared to what he’d been bracing for.

"Of course! Come here," Damien said, spreading his arms wide to welcome the boy.

Something as simple as a hug? He could handle that all day.

It was hard to say how long they had been embracing.

Arba’a was now sitting on Damien’s lap, his arms wrapped tightly around Damien’s waist, clearly content and showing no signs of letting go. He clung to Damien with an unfiltered joy that was palpable.

Damien didn’t mind. He enjoyed holding Arba’a, whose slim frame belied the firm muscles beneath his skin. Hugging the boy felt oddly satisfying.

Even the texture of the scales on Arba’a’s back, which had startled Damien when they first met, had become familiar. Now, he found them oddly pleasant to touch.

"Ahh..." Arba’a occasionally let out small, contented sighs as he hugged Damien even tighter, his hands wandering across Damien’s back in slow, soothing strokes.

The sensation of the scaled arms brushing against him was oddly comforting, a firm yet gentle pressure.

Damien thought back to the early days, recalling how much Arba’a had loved being held back then, just like Tis’a and Sitta.

Tis’a was all about frequency, Sitta preferred long durations, and Arba’a sought intense closeness. Damien chuckled to himself, remembering how he used to categorize their hugging preferences.

But when had Arba’a stopped coming to him for hugs?

Oh, that’s right. Damien remembered it now—it had been the day one of the household servants had stumbled upon Arba’a clinging to him.

As Arba’a pressed his entire body against Damien in the same way he had back then, Damien gently stroked the boy’s back. That must have been the incident that embarrassed him enough to stop seeking hugs altogether.

Damien’s musings were interrupted when he felt something hard pressing against his stomach.

And then it became more hard as time passes.