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Shin lay on the couch. His vision was blurred due to his high fever. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and shorts in an attempt to cool his body down. His eyes were glazed over, and his mouth hung agape as he breathed. Being ill was absolute torture for Shin, but unfortunately, his weak immune system rendered illness a frequent circumstance. His head rested on a fluffed pillow, hair messily sprawled across the cotton fabric. The frail Shin waited in his helpless state for Hiyori to finish preparing his soup.
“Oh, Shiiin,” Hiyori sang as he gleefully walked through the doorway. He was smiling brilliantly, yet his eyes did not wrinkle while they were closed. He was carrying a tray with a large bowl of miso soup atop it. His every footstep was filled with an eagerness that juxtaposed Shin’s immense fatigue. Shin only groaned as he lay there. Shin sniffled. His eyes were watering as his fever nearly turned his pale flesh red. Hiyori set down the tray beside the couch on the quaint coffee table. The porcelain bowl clanked as the soup sloshed inside. “Ready for the aeroplane, Shin?” Hiyori giggled.
“Mmm,” Shin whined, his head throbbing and burning. Hiyori pushed the coffee table closer to the edge of the couch where Shin’s head rested. Then, Hiyori knelt down on his knees, ensuring a small proximity between him and Shin. He turned his attention to the tray, and his gaze locked onto the silver spoon beside the bowl. He reached out to acquire the spoon, and he gripped it firmly. Hiyori held the spoon almost daintily, like a dame about to stir her afternoon tea.
“You’ll have to sit up a bit, Shin. It would be horrible if you choked!” Hiyori’s other hand guided Shin as the two worked to prop up the pillow and position Shin in a semi-upright position. Shin’s mouth was still agape as he lay there with a mazed expression. Hiyori smiled tenderly. “Now, just relax, Shin. I’m here to take care of you…” Hiyori dipped the spoon into the lukewarm soup, which was how Shin preferred his meals and beverages, and he scooped up a spoonful of nutrients. His other hand rested behind Shin’s head. As he inched the spoon closer to Shin’s lips, he mimicked a childlike version of aeroplane flying. His hand propped Shin’s head further upward as the spoon flew into Shin’s mouth. Shin’s lips feebly encircled the spoon, quivering, for his convalescence rendered it difficult to consume food and exert energy to do so. This process continued. Hiyori fed Shin as if he were caring for his young son. Despite the innocuous nature of Hiyori’s considerate care, a sordid scheme was his true intent. Unbeknownst to Shin, Hiyori had sprinkled a powdered substance into the soup—it was crushed sleeping pills.
At last, Hiyori had fed the entire bowl of miso soup to the sickly Shin, and now, it was only a matter of moments before Shin fell into a deep slumber. Shin’s vision began to blur further, and the aching of his head intensified. He attempted to speak to Hoyroi, possibly to complain about the pain, but his state hindered the formation of coherent sentences. Somnolence began to consume Shin, and he succumbed to a drug-induced slumber. Hiyori grinned with satisfaction. He practically began to pant when his plan had succeeded. He gazed at his slumbering Shin, knowing he could take advantage of Shin in any way he desired. Hiyori salivated as he reached down to unzip his fly. He was filled with keenness; he frantically fumbled with the zipper, finally pinching it after many clumsy attempts. He yanked it down, and he rose to his feet hastily. He hopped and spazzed until his pants and underwear fell to his ankles. Then, he swiftly slid them off, tossing them to the side. His erection stood proudly mere centimeters from Shin’s lips. Shin breathed softly in his slumber, blissfully unaware that his trusted caretaker intended to violate him.
Hiyori’s hand opened Shin’s mouth wide enough so that he could slip his member inside. Gradually, Shin’s soft, unconscious lips encircled Hiyori’s erection. Hiyori gasped when he felt the sensation of Shin’s wet orifice contacting his exposed tip and foreskin. Hiyori placed his hand on Shin’s pliant cheek. Hiyori’s phallus visibly protruded through Shin’s cheek due to Shin sleeping on his side. Hiyori’s other hand gripped onto Shin’s teal locks of hair. With that, he began to thrust himself in and out of Shin’s mouth, defiling Shin’s mouth for his pleasure. Hiyori groaned loudly and profusely as he thrust deeper into Shin’s throat, nearly shoving his erection into Shin’s esophagus. Shin gagged in his slumber as he felt his uvular gag reflex being triggered. Hiyori's penis continued to slosh in Shin’s saliva as absolute ecstasy filled his body.
Eventually, Hiyori’s pace began to slow, for he wanted this to last for as long as possible. Hiyori bit his lip, shutting his eyes as he ejaculated into Shin’s mouth. He shuddered as he retracted his flaccid member from Shin’s unconscious lips. His seminal fluid seeped out of Shin’s gaping mouth.
“I think I should return the favor, Shin…” Hiyori giggled. He knelt down beside Shin and slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Shin’s shorts. His fingers found their way inside Shin’s vaginal entrance, and they began to pump in and out of Shin. Shin whimpered in his slumber as his body responded to the erotic sensation. Shin’s breath quickened, though he remained in a deep sleep. His wetness lubricated Hiyori’s digits, allowing Hiyori to finger him faster. Moments later, Shin faintly whined as he orgasmed. His inner walls clenched around Hiyori’s probing fingers, coating them with Shin’s wetness. Shin now panted in his sleep. Hiyori quickly removed his fingers. However, he made no other efforts to wipe away the evidence of his crime. “Sleep well, Shin…” Hiyori rose to his feet, and he reached to grasp the tray that held the empty dish. As he held the tray in his hand, he approached the kitchen, leaving the used Shin to sleep in obliviousness.