CHAPTER 491: CLYDE’S ABS AND MICAH’S DOWNFALL (PART TWO)

Micah rolled on the bed once, twice, trying to ease the throbbing in his head. Each movement made the pain bloom sharper behind his eyes, like someone hammering from the inside. His stomach cramped in protest, forcing a quiet groan from his lips. He gritted his teeth and curled tighter beneath the blanket, wrapping the soft fabric around his bare body as if hiding could erase that embarrassment. His gaze drifted toward the bathroom door. The faint hum of running water reached his ears.

The curiosity was killing him. What was Clyde doing in there? His mind wandered, desperate to block out the pain.

He pictured Clyde’s tall, sculpted frame under the showerhead, steam curling around him like mist. He pictured droplets sliding down the hard lines of his chest, tracing over those sharp collar bones, flowing lower until...

Micah swallowed hard. His throat felt dry, parched. God, stop. Stop it.

But his imagination refused to listen. He saw Clyde tilt his head back, blond hair slicked and dripping, water gliding down that stubborn jawline to that sexy Adam’s apple...

Shit. The picture was too vivid, beautiful, and hot! He licked his dry lips, picturing biting down on that knot on Clyde’s neck. Heat crept up his face. "Damn it, I want to see it," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

He should stop thinking about that, about him, before things got out of hand. But the devil in him kept whispering. What if you just took a peek? Just a tiny one.

Maybe Clyde forgot to lock the door. Maybe he could catch a glimpse, just enough to satisfy that maddening curiosity. Maybe even something more erotic. Perhaps catching Clyde doing something indecent, scandalous, sinful...

The moment the thought popped into his head, something wet and cold slid down his upper lip.

Micah blinked, flabbergasted.

His hand shot up to his nose. Oh, for fuck’s sake!

When he pulled his fingers back, they were streaked with red.

Nosebleeding? Seriously?

Micah cursed under his breath, fumbling around for tissues or napkins to stop the bleeding.

Think one horny thought and his body betrayed him like that...

That was too humiliating! Ahh... What if Clyde caught him?

He finally found a few tissues on the bedside table and pressed them hastily to his nose, grumbling under his breath.

If Clyde really walked in now...he stuffed more tissues into his nose, mortified.

But as luck had it, the bathroom door clicked open. Cold air spilled into the room as Clyde stepped out, a towel hanging loosely around his waist. Droplets still clung to his skin. His blond hair was damp, sticking up in uneven spikes, making him look younger.

"Micah, do you have any clothes in my size? Can I borrow a set..." he stopped mid-sentence.

Micah, sitting upright in bed with tissues shoved up his nose, froze too. His wide eyes locked into Clyde, mesmerised by the sight. He had never seen this version. Clyde had always been proper and fully dressed whenever he had stepped out of the bathroom. The only time Micah had seen something else was when he had yanked the bathroom door open accidentally at the villa.

But now... Clyde was showing his body to him this blatantly...

The bleeding started again. Panicking, Micah tried to cover it up with a cough. That was the wrong move.

Clyde rushed to him. "What happened? Did you throw up blood?" His voice was shaky with concern.

Micah flinched, eyes wide as Clyde’s bare chest drew closer. He quickly lowered the bloodied napkin. "No. I just...uh... I got a nosebleed."

But Clyde stopped before him. He leaned down as he grabbed Micah’s chin. His fingers were cold from the shower, firm but gentle as he tilted Micah’s face up for inspection.

"Hold still," he said. His brows furrowed as he examined the faint red smear near Micah’s nostril.

There was no blood around his mouth. Just a pink nose.

"You’ve been overexerting yourself. Your body can’t handle it."

Micah squirmed under the intense stare. The fresh smell of shampoo and body wash hit his face. His hands itched to grab Clyde and have his way with the man.

"I said it’s nothing," Micah mumbled, voice muffled by Clyde’s hand.

"You put too much stress on your body," Clyde said flatly. "It’s no wonder it’s breaking down."

"Stop nagging, will you? My head’s already killing me."

"This won’t do," Clyde muttered, straightening up. The muscles in his arms flexed slightly as he turned toward the closet. Micah tried not to look, but his gaze betrayed him, lingering just a second too long on Clyde’s body.

He tore his eyes away just as Clyde rummaged through the closet, pulling out one of Micah’s loose shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He quickly slipped the shirt over his head. The fabric stretched across his shoulders before settling into place. Then he put on the sweatpants. He returned with another set. "Here, put these on. I’ll make you something for your hangover and get some medicine."

Clyde didn’t wait for a reply. He turned and left the room in a hurry.

Micah sat still, lips twitching in disbelief. His nose bled again after he saw the man putting on clothes.

Oh god, why was he this horny? No. It was just when he was near Clyde that those thoughts popped into his head.

Was he that desperate for Clyde’s body then?

Micah blankly wiped his nose and put on the t-shirt and shorts Clyde had left. He still had no idea why Clyde was here or how they had ended up naked in bed.

He checked his arms and chest, no bruises, no marks, no soreness, so nothing happened, right?

But where was Darcy? Had he left for Flora’s place downstairs?

Micah groaned and stood up, walking slowly toward the living room.

Clyde was busy in the kitchen.

"Hey... how did you end up here?" Micah asked, clutching his head and stomach.

Clyde paused when he saw him like that. He helped him sit down on a chair gently.

"I called your phone last night. Darcy answered, saying you’re wasted."

"Oh.... Where is he now then?"

"Probably asleep in the guest room, he was drunk too," Clyde replied.

Micah pursed his lips, peeking at the guest room door. He lowered his voice, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, hesitant. "Last night... did we...you know?"

Clyde shot him a look, the corner of his lips stretching upward. "Know what?"

"You know... something intimate..." Micah whispered, face burning.

"Well, it depends on what you call intimate," Clyde replied, tone smooth but teasing. "Someone brazenly undressing me, does that count?"

Micah’s eyes widened. "What?" he yelled, then quickly he looked at the guest room in fright. Seeing no sound came, he continued. "Don’t talk nonsense."

"Of course you would say that. After taking advantage of me like that... shouldn’t you at least take responsibility?" Clyde said, pretending to be heartbroken.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you were hot," Clyde said, shrugging. "You couldn’t stand the heat and started stripping. Then you came after me, pulling off my shirt and pants." Clyde explained teasingly.

Micah’s expression twisted for a second. "I’m sorry, I don’t believe a single word of that."

"That’s exactly what a scumbag would say..." Clyde coughed into his fist, mumbling just loud enough for Micah to hear.

Micah’s head throbbed. He reached out and pinched Clyde’s side. "Shut up already."

Clyde chuckled softly, leaning down. "Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing."

But instead of moving away, he wrapped his arms around Micah in a sudden embrace. His warmth pressed close. "God, I missed you so much."

Micah stiffened for a second before he turned mushy from hearing those words. His body leaned into Clyde, returning the hug. "Mmm..." he hummed in response.