Don't Come Near Me, I'm Just a Background Character [BL Harem]

54 - the Kisses

(A/N: Hehe. I felt inspired.)

"Wh-what...?" Remis' eyes seemed to swirl in bewilderment as he felt Sylvien's breath slid past his skin, tickling his ears. He fumbled around, not sure how to respond. "Y-you, I mean– Sylvien...?"

He still hadn't come to terms with the appearance of his "penpal" on the first day of school. He remembered the letters and Sylvien's fast-growing insistence of visiting. He always thought that he had managed to prevent it from happening. Royalty from another country who never came to Vires, how big of a disruption would that have on the plotline?

Remis' brain began to spiral. That's right... I've been so overwhelmed that I haven't thought about it at all... but not only is foreign royalty visiting Vires now, they're also going to attend our school! With the other capture targets! This never happened...! Remis gulped and started panicking. In a flurry of jumbled thoughts, he turned his head, Sylvien's lips brushing his ear. Remis faced the silver-haired youth, his face just a centimeter away from Sylvien's somewhat astounded expression.

He stayed in that position for long as Remis processed the situation. He fumbled back, moving what he deemed a "safe" distance away from him. "You, um..." Remi started, the warmth lingering on his ear ruffling his composure. "Why are you here, Sylvien?"

Sylvien's brows raised, his hazy, dreamlike countenance enveloping the surroundings, making Remis feel like he was standing in another world. "To see you, of course." Sylvien's phoenix eyes flashed purple, the canthus of his eye upturned, creating a foxy allure.

Remis' breath stalled, a lump forming in his throat as he watched Sylvien grasp his chin, lifting his head up to meet his. The prince's usually wispy, surreal expression had the slightest touch of languid secularity as he leaned forward, the tips of their noses brushing each other, Sylvien's lips slightly opened. "After all, I plan on bringing you back to Nyiel."

Remis blinked, too overwhelmed by his seductive features to move. In a daze, he asked, "b-but why?"

Sylvien's free hand extended, grabbing Remis' waist and pulling him closer into an embrace. Remis lurched, stumbling back, his weight almost entirely placed in Sylvien's arm. "Why?" He echoed, his voice slightly sultry. He laughed. "To get married, Remi."

"Wh-wha–" Remis stuttered, but before he could finish, he was silenced by the soft, indolent lips colliding with his. Remis wanted to gasp, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his breath was seized by the other's tongue, caressing and teasing soft spots as if it was curious. Remis' face flushed red as tears inadvertently escaped his narrowed eyes, his legs growing limp. A soft whimper escaped his throat before Remis' heart jumped, shocked by the unwitting sound.

Just then, arms encircled Remis' chest, fiercely pulling the black-haired youth away from the prince. Remis gasped for air, his cheeks flushed and his mind in absolute disarray. "Just what..." Cyrus' rumbling voice growled, "do you think you're doing, Prince?"

Cyrus sneered. "How dare you." He was too outraged to hide his controlling, avaricious demeanor. A dark air seemed to exude from his figure as his hold grew tighter on Remis' body. "What gives you the right to touch him?"

Sylvien's eyes turned dark. Remis' lips were softer than he could ever have imagined. He rubbed his lips, feeling the slight wetness of the kiss resting on his lips. Sylvien licked the area, his satisfaction palpable.

"You must be Cyrus, hm." Sylvien said dismissively. Cyrus' lour deepened. The slightly breathless voice of the prince was almost like a provocation, announcing that he had just kissed. "Cyrus... that annoying man." Sylvien's expression warped, striding forward and clasping Cyrus' wrist, trying to pull his arm away. They locked eyes, one with a provoking smirk and one with a too-calm expression.

"You're the man who's constantly badgering my beloved Remi, aren't you?" Sylvien muttered. His demeanor remained unearthly, and yet showed clear displeasement.

Cyrus' arm strained, maintaining his firm hold on the oblivious boy in his arms, as his eyebrows furrowed with disgust. "What right do you have to call my Remi beloved?" Cyrus placed his chin onto the top of Remis head, indulging in the scent of Remis' hair. "I've known him for almost ten years. He trusts me. But what of you? Someone he had just recently met."

Sylvien's grip grew tighter at his words. He felt a bubbling, uncomfortable feeling jumping from his heart, but he couldn't determine what it was. Annoyance? Dissatisfaction? Jealousy? He wasn't familiar with it at all, and yet here it was, making him feel like he wanted to burn the one who touched his love.

"Is that so?" Sylvien said scornfully. He never felt the need to divulge his secret correspondence with the count's son when he was in Nyiel. Nore, his familiar, was all he needed. It would only cause complications. However, right then, Sylvien had the overwhelming desire to state his companionship with him, saying that he had known Remi's deepest secrets, ones that the irritating man would never be able to dream of.

But he soon repressed his irrational, selfish thoughts, and just gritted his teeth to restrain himself. Not right now, he thought.

Cyrus scoffed and threw away the silver-haired man's hand, reaching to Remis' lips to wipe away the kiss' remnants. The soft flesh rubbed against his hand, making a slight blush crawl up his neck. Another bout of anger crashed against his heart. If that filthy man was allowed to touch Remis so intimately, why couldn't he?

Why couldn't he just hide Remis away, to a place no one could see him? So Remi could only see him, only hear him... only touch him.

Right then, before Sylvien could steal the black-haired youth away yet again, Cyrus turned towards him and crushed his lips against his, indulging in the warmth that he was so far from attaining.

----

Remis finally regained his composure. He was sandwiched between two bewitching ikemen, one of which was supposed to be with Aileen right then, building happy memories and bonding over beautiful magic! With one arm being pulled by Sylvien and one by Cyrus, he could only clench his fists and cry inwardly. Fuck, I ruined it again.

"I've got the equipment, we can start now..." the professor's voice echoed across the courtyard, sending waves of light and hope to Remis' despairing state. Without so much as a millisecond of musing, Remis' face stretched into a wide, relieved beam, and, using all the strength in his body, wrestled himself away from the ikemen and dashed towards the professor like a fly to the lamp.

"Welcome back, professor!" Remis cheered, tears almost streaming from his eyes as he rejoiced.

----

"We will be doing a basic firing exercise first." Professor Horshwin stated, lifting his hands. Fifteen meters in front of him was a basic round target. "You point," his right hand's forefinger moved through the air, strings of mana zipping out of the tip like small bolts of lightning. "Then shoot." He breathed. Then, as if a string of a bow was let go, the concentrated mana in his finger burst forth as a bolt of lightning, hitting the target dead in the center. A small crater was seared into the bullseye, tendrils of smoke exuding from the striked area.

The professor cracked a slightly deranged smile before turning back to face the students. "Now, since you all are S-class, I assume you've already done this kind of practice before." He said, bringing his hands back to his hips and tapping his shoe on the floor. His eyes glided past each one of the unfazed students before stopping on the black-haired youth.

"Remis." The professor said, walking forward. His eyes squinted in amusement behind his thick spectacles. "You're a fire mage, just like me." His slightly deranged smile contorted into a smirk. "Care to demonstrate for the rest of the class?"

"Me?" Remis' eyes widened. The professor remained idle, a silent recognition, so Remis could only reluctantly nod. The professor felt the familiar sense of gratification from picking the shy kid and stepped back, motioning for Remis to move into position.

He smiled at the sight of Remis' practiced posture. The mana bubbled in the boy's body, intense yet controlled, as it shot towards the black-haired youth's forefinger. The wisps of mana weren't the same crackling ones as the professor, but rather wisps of blue, smokey light, hypnotizing and graceful. Then, with a quick exhale, a thick, constant plume of searing blue flame roared from the tip of his finger, lighting up the arena in an azure halo. A wave of blistering heat enveloped the courtyard, permeating and fierce.

The area turned silent.