Flip the Coin [BL] Chapter 392. Tired

I was creeping myself out inside this damn room that had been full of worms just a second ago.

"...So we won’t go ho now?" Henry groaned in annoyance, thinking that I wanted to investigate.

"I don’t know. Are you feeling alright?" Still holding onto his wrist, I concentrated on his pulse and temperature.

Henry was in good condition, albeit having used so much power today, so I took a look at the table in my mind and at the coin.

"I am. But I want to go ho." Henry hugged again from behind, burrowing his face in my hair.

When I took the coin and flipped it, I didn’t see the woman—or better said, the hands covering her—reacting.

"You are not a fan of worms?" I chuckled.

"I’m tired." Henry whined instead of answering.

"Yeah. Let’s go ho; you worked hard today." Can’t believe how much we did in one day.

If we continued like this, we’d have the whole city purged by next week—not that I intended to do that.

I won’t be brought to my knees by a main character complex. As long as it doesn’t happen in front of my eyes and as long as it doesn’t endanger the world, fuck it.

So please, I am earnestly asking for no more shit to happen in front of , thank you very much.

"I’ll go first back to our room?" I asked Henry and felt him nod enthusiastically.

"Okay, don’t dawdle." I patted his head while I counted down and teleported back to our room.

Henry arrived a minute after and latched onto , putting all his weight on to push us both at the mattress, where he snuggled up to sideways, using as his pillow.

"Sorry for ’using’ you so much today." I combed through his hair and felt his breath becoming slower and deeper.

He must be really tired.

"I love it when you use ."

I scratched my head with my other hand as discreetly as possible so as not to stop him from dozing off.

Everywhere feels like worms are squirming.

These shitty squirrs had wanted to make their breeding ground. They were inside my body, and if I hadn’t had the power to get rid of them, I would have ended up like the worm-humans in that cursed room.

It’s all too easy to get paranoid when confronted with this kind of experience and very impressive pictures.

"I know. Go to sleep." Now that we had already touched the mattress, we had to get a new one anyway, so let him sleep for now.

Tomorrow we can break into a mattress store or sothing, or I can conjure the mattress before its contamination.

Regarding contamination... can we even eat vegetables that co from the earth—soil that was so similar to a world where they used it to harvest their worms to eat?

Oh my fucking god, I feel unwell all over when I think about where the vegetables we ate till now could have co from.

We’ll have to get rid of the whole rat situation; ’tomorrow’ would be best, and ’instantly’ would be better.

If all these rat things react to my blood that enthusiastically, then let’s find a place and spread my blood while hiding under Henry’s shield.

Today, the hockey stick proved that he could let weapons go through the shield without destroying it.

My current plan is as follows: Find a big empty spot, get Henry to make a shield, and then I can get to work with the arrow gun from inside the shield. Once they are all dead, remove the shield and I’ll go around to touch the corpses.

Then either let Henry acidify them or just present the corpses directly to the governnt; maybe I don’t even need to conjure up any rats, and we’ll reach the number fair and square.

Then I am officially free—nothing but an empty title, not the least important nowadays. But why am I involuntarily smiling at the thought?

Well, we don’t know if they’ll even stay true to their word; they could just as well storm the warehouse Ethan had talked about and take everyone present there hostage to lure out.

No. I have to put my trust in the lawyer miracle child.

I wanted to reach for my phone, only then rembering that it should be inside my bloody cargo pants in the bathroom, which had probably not moved and washed itself.

I raised my head slightly and looked at Henry’s pants, where I saw the outline of a square.

I reached into his pocket slowly but surely, fearing that he would suddenly grab my wrist or sothing and scare the hell out of .

But he was obediently asleep, which made feel even guiltier that I had relied on his power so much today. Fuck, he even killed most of the rats inside the cages.

What a good puppy... .

But I didn’t want to wake him up just to get my phone, and it wasn’t as if I was going through his ssages.

Wait. Why shouldn’t I?

Didn’t that fucker go through my ssages soon after we officially t?

Additionally, if I said I did it because I was jealous, wouldn’t he be delighted as hell?

Fuck, it’s not even as if I wanted to do it in the first place; why am I tornting myself with unnecessary thoughts?

I am tired as well.

Eventually, I had my hand in his pocket and was grabbing the phone that I then pulled out slowly.

I really am not made for such nerve-racking shit; it’s terrifying.

When I finally had that damn phone in my hand, I unlocked it.

And I saw the background picture that must have been a delusion because I was just so tired.

What the hell...

A picture taken from a weird angle, Henry hugging from behind, an action I was most familiar with feeling but not seeing—well, with the exception of this one ti where we stood in front of the mirror—precisely the mont that picture was taken.

This sneaky fucker—I hadn’t even noticed that he took a picture.

Should I be thankful that he took that one as the screensaver and not the bloody picture he sent my grandma to snitch on ?

That reminds , I looked into his gallery with the intent to delete that bloody shot, but it was already erased, and I didn’t find it.

What I found was a bunch of dark pictures. I needed to turn up the screen light on the phone and squint my eyes to recognize them as dozens of pictures of my sleeping face, so zood in weirdly on my profile and lips.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

I’ll confiscate his phone when we go to sleep from now on.

I chuckled and exited the gallery to go to the ssages.

There was only a thread of ssages with Ethan, who had apparently texted him while we were on our second trip of the day.

Ethan: [You know that the phones can be tracked by us?]

Ethan: [Mrs. Howard is livid that you both ignored the fact that you were grounded.]

Ethan: [When are you back?]

Ethan: [Please co back ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚]

Henry: [I know. Tell her to nag him tomorrow; we are both dead tired.]

The last ssage was clearly sent not long ago; he must have written it when I had teleported ahead.

THIS MOTHERFUCKING SNITCH, HE SNITCHED ON AGAIN and did so without even dirtying his hands.

Damn it!

So he had still been angry.

I’ll delete his creepy stalker picture as revenge.

I went back to the gallery, but in the end, neither did my left hand stop stroking Henry’s head nor did my right one delete anything.

Fine, he was really helpful today and did all the work, so one had to be the greater man.

I went back to the ssages and wrote Ethan.

Henry: [Kenny here. I have a plan regarding the pest control. Do we have a really big space that we can use to lure, confine, and eliminate?]

The answer ca back promptly.

Ethan: [I will look into it, Mr. Howard.]

Henry: [Good work, thanks. Tell my grandmother that we already did a good part of the job today, and had a VERY DISGUSTING reason to go out again, and it would be FUCKING OUTRAGEOUS to be chastised because of it.]

Ethan: [...I will tell her that tomorrow; how about that, Mr. Howard?]

I answered that he should do what he wanted and that we would continue the conversation from my phone. Then I deleted the ssages I had written before I slipped the phone back into Henry’s pocket.

I closed my eyes, suppressing the images of naked Henry helplessly manhandled by a silk cravat and the feeling of his hard, scalding hot cock in my hand.

Ah... damn it.

I’m tired; just let sleep.