Muddled Logic

"Ah...!" Klein shoved his flushed face on the pillow as Calix's fingers hit the spot that pulled a pained gasp out of him.

"Does it hurt?" Calix paused and waited for Klein to respond.

"I-It's fine."

"Okay. Sorry. I'll be more gentle." Calix moved again, more carefully this time. His large hands clamped around Klein's shoulders, both his thumbs pressed with decreased pressure to the aching muscles. "How about that?"

"I-It felt good." Klein fisted the bedsheet and turned his head to the side to stare at the topless man behind him. "D-Do you always do this to everyone you bring home?"

With a mysterious grin, Calix leaned closer to his ear. "It depends. Normally, I would charge people for this. But I know I'm the reason you hurt your shoulder when I suddenly pulled you in the elevator, so I'll be giving it to you for free as an apology."

"Fair enough—ah!"

Calix's grin grew wider. "Is this your first time?"

Klein burrowed his face on the pillow again after that breathless gasp, evading the question. It was just a massage, but it already made Klein release a multitude of sounds he didn't know his throat was capable of creating.

Calix continued the ministration of his hands to Klein's back, smearing the ambrosial coconut oil mixed with different herbs to his skin. Aside from hunting mythical beings, it seemed he was also knowledgeable about folkloric practices.

From the alum powder, incense, scented candles, and the use of coconut oil with unknown herbs, Klein had already deduced that Calix was one of them.

Witch doctors or folk healers.

At an early age, his mother had warned him about those who practiced medical quackery because most of them prescribed cures for illnesses based on superstition and not well-researched science. If it wasn't for what he had witnessed tonight, Klein would have already walked out ages ago.

But as Calix's thumbs glided down to his back, stopping just above his buttocks, Klein rationalized that massages were beneficial to the mind and body, too. It can help reduce stress and improve blood circulation.

Hold up! He wasn't here to enjoy massages!

Klein lifted his upper body and looked back. "Um..."

"What's wrong? Did you also hurt your hips?" Calix asked, giving a little squeeze to his pelvis.

"K-Kind of."

That's a lie.

"I landed badly on the floor when you threw me inside the elevator earlier."

Another fat-ass lie.

"Sorry about that. But I didn't have a choice earlier," Calix explained. "He had become aware of my presence. If I didn't pull you away from him, he would have already done what he's been planning to do all along."

That caught Klein's attention. "Plan? What plan?"

"To turn you into a werewolf just like him. That's been his plan from the start. He's just trying to ease you up slowly with his fake gentleman act. You have no idea how many men and women had fallen for it."

Klein fell silent; half his mind was about Khalil's ambiguous plan to turn him into a werewolf, and the other half was about how Calix was straddling his thighs. Again, they only had towels covering their lower regions. And something about their positions made him imagine stuff that had never crossed his mind before.

Clearing his throat, Klein turned his gaze back to the bed's metal headboard in front of him. "Turn me? How exactly is he planning to turn me into a werewolf? Is he gonna bite me?"

Calix returned to his previous task on his back as he explained. "There are different ways. Through bite, a deep scratch, or sex."

Klein froze at the third one. "S-Sex?"

"Yup. Direct transfer of body fluids is more potent than the residual blood on their gums and nails from transformation. It's also the safest option if done consensually. Blood transfusion will work too."

"How did you know all of these? And how did you even know of his plans?" Klein asked in dubiety because everything about it screamed quackery.

"I can't know someone is a werewolf right off the bat because they're good at hiding among normal people. I can't just act based on suspicion either, so I need to gather concrete evidence. That's why I'd been monitoring him for quite some time now."

"Monitoring him?" Klein turned back to Calix to catch him pressing his elbow to his butt. "I-I thought you were monitoring me. You've been stalking me—ah! Hey!"

Calix laughed as he rolled his elbow to Klein's buttocks. "Ticklish much?"

"D-Don't change the subject!"

"I've never stalked you, okay. You just happened to be his target, so I need to keep an eye on you, too. Have you seen me lurking around you when he's not around?"

Klein opened his mouth but closed it again as he recalled the times he noticed Calix's presence around him. Most of those times, he was with Khalil, which was almost every day since they were classmates, and lived in the same building, so he didn't believe him fully.

"I'm a busy person, you know. Why would I stalk a person I have no business with? I'm not your secret admirer or anything, so stop giving me that look."

"I never said you're my secret admirer," Klein mumbled with a deep scowl. Somehow, Calix's explanation irked him.

"I know. I just want to make it clear to avoid possible misunderstandings." Calix stopped rolling his elbow to Klein's butt and reached for the bottle of oil with chips of wood inside. Then he reached for the towel's corner on Klein's hips. "I'm going to put oil on your hips and thighs. Is that okay?"

"W-What?"

"Or would that make you uncomfortable? I won't do it if you don't want me to, but you gotta apply it yourself. We need full coverage."

Klein stared long and hard into Calix's vibrant eyes. After thoroughly searching for hidden agendas, he looked away. "I don't mind."

"Okay. Raise your hips a little."

Klein lifted his hips as instructed, only to freeze as his ass bumped against something... something else.

"I said, just a little." Calix sniggered, unknotted the towel, and pushed Klein's ass away from his groin. He said nothing more, but Klein could still picture an amused grin on his smug face that colored the tip of his ears with blood.

With a shuddering breath, Klein lay his face against the pillow and willed his blood to stop pooling on his nether region. His heart thundered in his chest as the towel was pushed to rest in the crevice of his ass.

Calix's oil-coated palm pressed against his exposed hip. Carefully, it glided up to the curve of his buttocks, smearing oil as it went.

Klein's hips buckled a little as Calix's thumb added pressure and moved in a circular motion, but it didn't reach the part beneath the towel, so he just let it happen. The process was repeated to the other side, to his thighs and legs, and down to his feet.

"Done," Calix said with a tap on Klein's butt after he finished applying oil to his legs. "You can get up now."

"No."

"No? We still need to apply it to your stomach and chest."

"No," Klein repeated in a finalized tone.

"Is there a problem?"

Klein ignored the obvious mirth in that question and kept himself plastered on the bed. There's no way in hell he would get up to expose the reaction of his traitorous body.

"Alright then." Calix sat on the edge of the bed and started applying oil to his own body. His skin glistened like honey under the soft light of the candle; his taut muscles contracting in his every move.

Klein looked away before Calix caught him staring again.

"Hey, Klein," Calix called, pressing the bottom of the bottle to Klein's cheek. "Can you put oil on my back too?"

Klein stared at the bottle, at Calix's broad back, then at the smile that made him not want to risk another skin contact with him.

"It's okay if you don't want to."

"It's fine." Klein grabbed the bottle and sat up side-saddled to hide his still throbbing excitement. "You massaged my back. It's only logical for me to return the favor. I'm not good at massages, though."

Calix only grinned. "You don't have to. But I won't complain if you wanted to try."

Klein poured oil into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and then spread it all over the expanse of Calix's back. He tried to massage Calix the way he did, but his fingers barely sank to the stiff muscles, so he gave up. "Sorry, I don't think I'm fit for this."

Twisting around to face him, Calix rested his hand beside Klein's hip and leaned forward. The action shortened the distance of their lips, taking Klein's breath away, literally.

In this situation, it's only logical to move away. But Klein remained frozen, staring at the ruddy lips mere centimeters away from his parted mouth.

"Thank you for trying your best," Calix said, grabbing the bottle from him. He poured more oil into Klein's hand. "Now, finish it up so we can finally leave."

"H-Huh?" Klein blinked, his mouth still parted in anticipation.

Calix pointed to Klein's exposed chest and stomach.

"Oh! Y-Yeah, yeah." Klein rubbed his hands to his chest as Calix stood and placed the bottle back on top of the shelf.

"I'll just go check your clothes at the laundry shop next door."

Nodding stiffly, Klein was still rubbing his oily hands into every nook and cranny of his body. After Calix stepped out, he slapped both hands to his flaming cheeks.

Klein was a logical person. But with this guy he just met a couple of hours ago, his way of thinking turned muddle. He just blindly welcomed the bold approach, only to make a fool of himself in the end.

'Fuck! He's playing with me.'