Sweet Devil [BL]

Chapter 38. Piggyback Ride

Misha happily swung his legs back and forth, making it hard for Gabriel to keep his balance as he avoided the roots, holes, and sharp-edged stones littering the trail. Thanks to Misha's antics, he often swayed on his feet, and yet, he never told the child to stay still. Instead, he silently endured.

Now that the boy was finally on his back, Gabriel didn't dare say or do anything that would make him unhappy—otherwise, it'd surely result in another tantrum. Since that brat loved to act before thinking, Gabriel had the feeling that he'd struggle and make a scene despite being on his back, forgetting that if the teenager were to lose balance and fall headfirst, he'd also fall.

However, Misha was in a pretty good mood and didn't plan on being unreasonable. Hearing the teenager huff and puff was enough to make him forget the displeasure of climbing onto his back. It brought about a vicious satisfaction, even.

It was the beginning of the afternoon, and the sun was beating down on them. Although it was a bit cooler in the forest than at the beach, it was still hot. The humidity was also high, weighing heavily on their shoulders.

A few minutes later, Gabriel's t-shirt was drenched in sweat. He had put it on before leaving the beach, not wanting the mosquitos to devour him alive. But he was now wondering what was worse: being biting or dying of heat. His forehead and neck were also damp, making his hair cluster around his face.

Misha wasn't heavy, but he wasn't weightless either. Gabriel was also carrying the backpack, wearing it on his chest. Walking on a rough trail with those two extra weights was by no means an easy feat, and it demanded a lot of physical effort on his part. Even if he was in good shape, he wasn't an athlete!

But although he was laden like a pack mule, he didn't complain and walked forward.

Gabriel had slid his arms behind his back to make it more comfortable for the little king, using his forearms as a chair for the kid's butt. Of course, Misha wasn't polite and shamelessly put all of his body weight on the teenager's forearms, not even straightening his back or holding onto Gabriel's shoulders to distribute his weight more evenly. The child only rested a hand in the crook of the teenager's neck, close enough to pass his arm around his neck if he were to lose balance. Meanwhile, his other hand held a tri-colored popsicle.

Because Gabriel's hands were full, he couldn't eat his snack. Thus, he decided to give his popsicle to the child. But it had long started to melt in its packaging, and when Misha opened it, he realized that he had to wolf it down quickly, or there would soon be nothing left in his hands but a mere wooden stick.

Yet, when Misha saw the popsicle slowly drip onto the teenager's neck, he didn't eat it immediately. 'A stick isn't so bad,' he thought, a wicked grin curling up the corner of his mouth. 'It even has its charm.'

Narrowing his eyes, Misha weighed the pros and cons, and he concluded that sacrificing the second popsicle wouldn't bring about too much heartache. After all, he still had the sweet aftertaste of the first popsicle left in his mouth.

And so, he happily observed the process of the droplets forming on the edge of the tri-colored popsicle before falling onto the nape of Gabriel's neck. The steady drops of the popsicle somehow hypnotized him, and he only snapped out of his trance when he heard the teenager say, a touch of impatience in his voice, "If you're not going to eat it, then throw it! Please!"

"But I'm eating it!" Misha hummed as a strange sense of fulfillment flooded his heart. "Just not fast enough."

It was the first time since his rebirth that Gabriel was starting to lose patience; he was thrilled! It almost made him want to dance and scream in joy. Ahem. He still had a bit of common sense left and ultimately restrained himself, only swinging his legs back and forth with more strength.