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When Rudo returned to his room after finishing the request, he found a large box waiting inside.
It was green, squarely built, and possessed an oddly commanding presence. Big enough for a person to fit inside comfortably, it was wrapped with a vivid crimson ribbon tied.
“What the hell is this?”
He took half a step closer, and that was when it happened.
The box shifted slightly with a faint creak.
The air seemed to freeze for an instant.
“… Did that just move?”
A chill ran down his spine. The box sat there innocently silent, but the quiet only made it more unsettling. Rudo reached for the ribbon and carefully untied it. The moment he lifted the lid, an unexpectedly lively voice burst out.
“Mmmph—! Mmm!”
“… Follo!?”
There was no mistake: it was his lover curled up inside. He was dressed head-to-toe in a blatantly seasonal red outfit, wrists and ankles bound with matching ribbons. Even a red hat completed the look. He sat with his knees drawn up to fit in the box, the short hem riding high enough to tease glimpses of what lay beneath. Close, but never quite revealing.
A mini-Santa outfit, Rudo realized. That’s what this was.
“Why … are you dressed like that …?”
His brain struggled to catch up, thoughts piling up in gridlock.
Follo thrashed in protest inside the cramped space, but there was nowhere for the motion to go.
“Mmm! Mmmph!”
Only then did Rudo notice the tape over his mouth. He hurriedly peeled it off.
“Gah—finally, air! Hear me out. It was Enjin and the others—they said it’d be a surprise, told me to put on the clothes, then shoved me in the box … they set me up!”
Follo rattled off his complaints without pausing for breath. Rudo thought, You should’ve suspected something the moment they handed you the outfit, but he kept that to himself.
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
Then, without a word, Rudo reached into the box and slipped an arm behind Follo’s back.
“… Huh? W-wait, Rudo?”
In the next instant, the world tilted gently as Follo was lifted into the air.
His eyes widened in surprise as he was cradled against Rudo’s chest.
“If it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Rudo said in an oddly serious tone, “then the person who opens it should take responsibility for cleaning up afterward. That’s part of the set, right?”
“I don’t follow … hey!”
Follo was carried, swiftly, if a little roughly, to the bed.
“Rudo, just listen for a sec—mm, mmph!”
His protests dissolved the moment their lips met. What began as a light touch deepened quickly, persistent and consuming, stealing every sound from Follo’s throat. At first, he clenched his teeth in resistance, but each time Rudo shifted the angle, tracing his lips, teasing with the tip of his tongue, Follo’s breathing grew ragged and his strength ebbed away.
Before he realized it, he was parting his lips himself just to draw breath. Rudo didn’t miss the opening; heat flooded in.
Between kisses, the rustle of fabric reached Follo’s ears, and awareness snapped back.
“W-wait, hold on … I said wait, damn it …!”
He fought to string words together, but his voice melted in the rising warmth.
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me! Are we really going to do it!?”
“Yeah,” Rudo replied without hesitation.
“Huh!? I mean … it’s not that I mind! I’m totally fine with it, but at least untie me first!”
His gaze flicked pointedly to the red ribbons still binding his wrists and ankles. He couldn’t move an inch like this.
“You’re right. They’re in the way.”
Rudo reached down and loosened the ribbons around Follo’s ankles. The moment they came free, an unconscious sigh of relief escaped him.
Good, he thought, only for his wrists to be seized a heartbeat later and lifted overhead. Before he knew it, both hands were pinned securely against the headboard.
“… Wait … Rudo, my hands … and my clothes ….”
“You’re the present, aren’t you?”
Rudo’s voice was low, almost tickling.
Trapped beneath that gaze with nowhere to escape, Follo swallowed hard.
“Without the ribbons, it wouldn’t look right. Besides …,” Rudo leaned closer. “It’d be a waste to strip you out of something that sexy so quickly.”
Their lips met again. This time it wasn’t biting or devouring. It was slow, deliberate, savoring. Even though only their mouths touched, breaths and heartbeats felt impossibly close, and warmth began to cloud Follo’s mind.
Rudo pressed a gentle kiss to Follo’s forehead. Slowly, he shifted lower, brushing his lips over the faint scars that lingered there. Each time his mouth touched the thin skin, Follo’s body trembled faintly, as if the air itself changed in that spot alone. It wasn’t rejection; Rudo recognized the reaction immediately for what it was: heat, building and undeniable.
He lingered, deliberate and thorough, tracing the marks with soft kisses again and again before moving closer to Follo’s left ear.
The instant the tip of his tongue made contact, a sharp breath escaped Follo’s throat.
“Hh …!”
“Does it hurt?”
The whisper against his ear was low, impossibly close.
“… No … it tickles ….”
Follo’s left ear had always been sensitive ever since the injury from Rudo’s first mission. Touch there sent sensations sparking through him. Rudo knew it well, and he exploited it gently but relentlessly: licking slowly, grazing with his teeth now and then. When he nipped lightly and slid his tongue deeper to block any escape, Follo’s shoulders jerked.
“Hah … there ….”
His voice rose, but there was no trace of protest, only growing warmth, almost pleading.
Without pulling away from the ear, Rudo slid both hands down to Follo’s chest. Even through fabric, he found the spots without hesitation. His fingertips located the sensitive points and pressed slowly, deliberately.
Follo’s body jolted.
Rudo’s mouth stayed at his ear while his hands toyed teasingly. Circling, tracing, varying pressure in waves.
“Ru, do … that ….”
Words failed him. The sensation through cloth was maddening: heat pooling, building, but never quite reaching where it was needed most.
“Don’t like it?” Rudo asked, voice laced with feigned innocence.
“… Not … not that, but …”
“But?”
“… It isn’t enough ….”
“Want more, then?”
“… More … harder ….”
“Like this?”
His fingers pinched lightly, trapping the fabric so there was no escape.
“Nnh…!”
A short cry broke free as Follo’s back arched. Strength flooded his bound wrists; with nowhere to go, his body reacted honestly, helplessly, to every touch.
“… Rudo … I …”
Follo’s voice came out hoarse, trembling in the thick, heated air.
“Hm … what is it?”
Rudo didn’t pull away from his ear, nor did he stop the slow movement of his fingers across Follo’s chest as he murmured the question.
“I … right now … um ….”
A brief pause. Hesitant breaths.
“… I’m wearing sexy underwear.”
“… Huh?”
Time stopped.
His mind went perfectly, brilliantly blank.
—What did he just say?
Rudo’s gaze dropped. Follo lay beneath him, wrists still bound overhead with crimson ribbon, the mini-Santa skirt barely preserving modesty. Hidden in the shadow of the hem, something unmistakably provocative hinted at its presence.
“… I picked the kind I thought you’d like.”
Those words alone sent heat surging through him.
He’d chosen it thinking of Rudo’s tastes. Deliberately.
A low sound escaped Rudo’s throat before he could stop it.
To hide the tremor in his hands, he lifted the edge of the skirt with his fingertips. Pale fabric, soft tones. The lace was subtle, yet so teasingly placed it might as well have been an invitation. Thin ribbons tied at the hips looked as though they’d come undone with the slightest tug, drawing his eyes inexorably downward.
“… What do you think?”
“It’s hot,” Rudo answered before thought could catch up.
The knowledge that Follo had aimed straight for his preferences only fanned the flames higher.
“You’re wearing something like that … don’t even try telling me you weren’t expecting this.”
“Well … obviously I want to, but …,” Follo trailed off, glaring up through his lashes. “… B-but the mini-Santa thing is different, okay!? That was all Enjin and the others—they forced me into it …!”
The desperate excuse only stoked the fire.
Their heartbeats seemed to echo in the room.
Rudo lifted one of Follo’s legs and brushed his lips to the ankle. Then up the shin, behind the knee … slowly, deliberately. Each slide of his tongue drew a small shiver, warmth radiating back against his mouth.
When he kissed the inside of a thigh and traced it with his fingers, Follo twisted, as if the sensation had become too much.
“Rudo … take them off.”
That single plea, delivered with upturned eyes, made the swallow in Rudo’s throat sound thunderous.
He leaned down, caught the knot between his teeth, and pulled.
It unraveled almost too easily, and Follo’s breath hitched.
Just as the hidden heat was about to be exposed to the air, Rudo paused.
He lifted his gaze. Follo stared back, trapped, vulnerable, eyes swirling with anticipation and a trace of nervousness.
That expression alone was more than enough.
Each kiss Rudo pressed along Follo’s hips drew an immediate, honest response: heat radiating unmistakably, the swollen presence of his arousal impossible to ignore.
Rudo kept his face close, slowly dragging his tongue across the sensitive skin.
The flushed flesh twitched; Follo’s breath caught sharply.
“Rudo … hurry … put it in me ….”
The hoarse plea was so sweet it threatened to melt in the air.
“I already … prepared myself … I can’t wait anymore ….”
At those words, Rudo’s gaze drifted lower.
Between Follo’s spread thighs, the soft pink entrance fluttered faintly, pulsing as if beckoning him inside.
Rudo exhaled slowly, coating his fingers generously with cool lube.
First, he traced the rim gently with the pad of his middle finger, tapping lightly. Testing, watching.
The heat inside welcomed him instantly, slick and yielding, drawing him in as though urging him deeper.
It clung softly, possessively, refusing to let go.
A single finger sank to the hilt with almost no resistance. He added his ring finger soon after, stretching to two.
The inner walls rippled, clenching in waves, molding themselves around the intrusion.
He widened slowly, searching deeper, until—
“Nnah…!”
The moment he spread his fingers and brushed that sensitive spot, Follo’s hips jerked upward, his back arching like a bow.
A thick, sweet cry spilled from his throat.
“You love it here, don’t you, Follo?”
Rudo’s voice carried a teasing edge as he stroked the spot relentlessly.
He curled his fingers, pressing hard, crushing against it. Each time, the passage tightened sharply, hot slick coating his skin.
“Hah … Rudo, there—no … I can’t …!”
Tears welled in Follo’s eyes, trailing down his flushed cheeks.
His legs began to tremble in small, desperate spasms, pleading that he was at his limit.
And then, mercilessly, Rudo withdrew his fingers.
“Hya …!? Wait, why …?”
Left teetering on the edge, Follo’s body shuddered with sudden emptiness.
The pent-up heat thrashed inside him, nowhere to go.
Rudo reached toward the bedside table with a casual “There it is,” and picked up one of the crimson ribbons he’d untied earlier.
The glossy satin caught the light, gleaming seductively.
“The ribbon? Why now—wait, hold on—”
Follo’s voice cracked.
In the next instant, the ribbon wound around the base of his aching length. Once, twice—tight, unyielding—finished with a perfect little bow. Veins stood out against the pressure; the tip flushed deep red-purple.
“Too tight …! Rudo, untie it … I won’t be able to come like this …!”
Follo twisted his hips frantically, but the ribbon held firm.
“You don’t need to come from there, do you?”
“Huh?”
For a second, the words didn’t register.
Rudo flicked the bound tip lightly with a fingertip, and Follo’s entire body jolted as if struck by lightning.
“You can finish just from inside, right, Follo?”
The whisper against his ear was honey-sweet and utterly cruel.
“N-no … that’s impossible … Rudo, wait—!”
Rudo acted as though he hadn’t heard a thing. He slid his slick fingers back into that waiting heat, this time three together, and eased them in, slow and deliberate.
Rudo sank his fingers deep, pinning that sensitive spot with merciless precision.
He traced slow circles over Follo’s prostate with the pads of his fingers, then suddenly pressed hard. The shifting rhythm battered Follo’s nerves without mercy.
“Nnh … ah … Rudo, there …!”
His hips lifted on their own. Heat pooled deep in his lower belly, swelling to the bursting point.
Yet release hovered just out of reach. The desire bound tightly at its root by crimson ribbon raged wildly, denied any outlet.
“I’m gonna come … I want to come … I want to but I can’t …! Rudo, please take this off … I can’t take it anymore …!”
Tears streaked his cheeks as he begged, hot breath dampening his own skin.
“No.”
The refusal was short, cold. At the same moment, Rudo wrapped his free hand around the straining length, thumb pressing firmly over the slit to seal it completely.
“If you’re going to come, do it from the inside.”
As the words left his mouth, he hooked his fingers and crushed hard against the gland.
“Hya—ah, aah, no …!”
Follo’s back bowed violently; his ankles spasmed in tiny, frantic jerks.
His whole body convulsed, broken moans spilling from his throat.
He was right there, so close, and still couldn’t tip over.
Pleasure stacked higher and higher, melting his mind blank.
“Fingers … aren’t enough … I need you, Rudo … hurry, put it in me …!”
The tearful plea sent a sharp throb through Rudo’s own groin. He was at his limit too. His cock ached, tip glistening with clear beads that trailed down in thin threads.
He eased his fingers out slowly; a wet, lewd sound echoed in the quiet room.
Rudo reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out the box of condoms.
“Ah ….”
He shook it.
Even upside-down, nothing fell out.
Empty.
“Sorry. We’re out.”
He muttered it honestly and started to rise.
“I’ll run to the store quick—wait, they won’t sell it to me. Guess I’ll have to ask Enjin or Gris if they’ve got any.”
“What!?”
Follo’s eyes flew wide.
He tried to sit up in panic, only to be yanked back by the wrists still fixed to the headboard, collapsing against the mattress again.
Was Rudo seriously about to walk out and ask their friends to lend him condoms? Leaving him here like this—hands bound overhead, cock tied with a bright red ribbon, utterly debauched and helpless?
No way in hell.
“I don’t care anymore …! Raw is fine—just raw, please …! I need you, Rudo … it’s so hot inside … I can’t wait any longer …!”
Tears and drool smeared across his face, Follo shouted it desperately.
In that instant, Rudo’s restraint snapped with an audible crack.
“… You’re sure?”
He pressed the hot, pulsing head against the slick entrance. It slipped easily, the tip sinking just barely inside.
“Yes, hurry …!”
Follo rolled his hips upward, chasing more.
Short, shallow thrusts—then one deep, sudden plunge that drove straight into the spot and crushed it.
“—Ah! Aah, AAAAH!!”
White exploded across Follo’s vision.
Sparks burst behind his eyes; lightning raced up his spine.
His body locked rigid for a heartbeat, then every ounce of strength drained away, leaving him sinking heavily into the sheets.
Deep inside, the coiled heat shattered.
Denied any external release, the climax slammed through him from his prostate alone.
“Hah … ah …!”
Follo’s body shuddered in small, relentless spasms, tears soaking the pillow beneath his head.
Rudo breathed heavily, hips still pressed deep as he whispered.
“… See? You came just from the inside.”
The scorching walls clenched tight around him, pulling him deeper.
“I’m going to move now, Follo.”
At the low warning, Follo’s body jerked.
“Hah … w-wait … not yet …!”
The hoarse protest melted away into the heat, formless.
Rudo didn’t answer. Instead, he gripped the slender waist firmly with both hands, as if declaring there would be no escape.
He drew out slowly, once, then sank back in heavily, all the way to the hilt.
“—Aah!!”
Follo’s throat twisted; a high, keening cry echoed through the room.
His back arched like a drawn bow, bound wrists straining against the ribbon until it creaked.
The inner passage gripped greedily, hot slick flooding out to coat the base.
Then the rhythm began.
Slow at first—deliberate strokes that dragged over the sensitive gland.
Shallow withdrawal, deep plunge, shifting angles to grind relentlessly against the prostate.
“Nnh—ah, aah…! Rudo, too—too much …!”
Follo’s voice had dissolved into nothing but moans.
Sweet, broken cries poured from him without pause.
His half-lidded eyes lost focus; tears gathered on his lashes, threatening to spill down flushed cheeks.
Denied external release, his body could only hoard the pleasure, stacking it higher and higher.
Deep in his core, bursts of heat exploded again and again; his vision flickered like a dying light.
Even breathing felt impossible—he was pinned at the peak, unable to come down.
“Guh … ah, aah—again, I’m coming … coming, coming—!!”
His hips bucked wildly on their own, pulling Rudo deeper.
The walls spasmed violently, clenching in wave after wave.
Still blocked from true release, he was forced through climax after climax from his prostate alone. A sweet, excruciating torment.
“You’ve been coming inside the whole time,” Rudo rasped, sweat dripping from his brow.
He was close himself—dangerously close. But Follo’s reactions were too intoxicating to stop.
His grip tightened on those hips, and he drove in once more, harder, deeper.
“—!! AAAAAH!!”
Follo’s body snapped backward, a scream-like moan tearing free.
White flooded his vision again; sparks burst behind his eyes.
The passage clamped down fiercely, spasms rippling over and over.
Rudo clenched his jaw, fighting to hold on.
Not yet.
He wanted more of this searing heat.
He wanted to watch Follo’s beautiful, breaking face a little longer. Wanted to bury himself even deeper.
Sweat fell from his skin, landing on Follo’s neck.
Rudo leaned down and gently licked it away. The salty warmth made Follo’s oversensitive body jolt again, every tiny touch now transformed into sweet electricity.
One hand stayed wrapped around the bound length, thumb still sealing the tip.
With the other, he brushed heated cheeks, tracing the trembling outline of parted lips.
Follo’s lower lip trembled faintly, and Rudo leaned in to cover it with his own.
At first it was nothing more than a quiet touch. Soft, lingering kisses repeated again and again, shifting angles gently.
But when Rudo sank his hips slowly deeper, Follo’s mouth parted on its own, hot breaths escaping. Rudo didn’t miss the opening; he slipped his tongue inside, coiling thickly around Follo’s, tasting him with deliberate, wet sounds.
From above came the lewd, sticky sound of their mouths; from below, the obscene sound of their joined bodies—layering the room in sweet, filthy resonance.
When their lips finally parted, a silver thread of saliva stretched between them, glinting, before snapping with a soft sound.
Rudo trailed kisses along Follo’s cheek, then to the faint scars, pressing gentle reverence there.
And then to his left ear, licking along the shell, nipping softly.
“I want to go deeper, Follo ….”
The heated whisper brushed his ear.
“Let me in.”
He ground forward, seeking the deepest point, pushing past the limit into impossible depth.
Follo’s walls stretched to their utmost, offering hot resistance yet yielding, accepting him fully.
Tears spilled from Follo’s eyes as he shook desperately, or at least tried to. His body no longer obeyed.
“N-no … any deeper and I’ll … break …! More than that—please, the ribbon … take it off …! I can’t … I’m at my limit …!”
The tearful plea sent a fierce ache through Rudo’s chest.
“If you let me all the way in, I’ll untie it.”
With wet, heavy sounds he eased the head deeper.
Sweat-slick skin slid together, friction building even more heat.
Then the tip breached Follo’s deepest barrier.
At the same instant, Rudo’s hand left the bound length for a heartbeat, only to circle the head firmly, pressing the sharp edge of a fingernail lightly against the tiny slit.
“Ah—!!”
Stars burst across Follo’s vision.
His body locked rigid, then convulsed violently.
Still denied external release, another pure internal climax slammed through him.
His walls clamped down painfully tight around Rudo, waves of searing heat crashing over them both.
“Why … you said … you’d untie it …!”
Follo’s face was a mess of tears and drool as he rasped the accusation.
He was far past his limit, yet pleasure kept rising, refusing to let him descend.
“Just a little longer … I want to come with you ….”
“Then come already …!!”
The tear-choked cry came as Follo’s inner muscles clenched hard on their own.
They pushed up against the dead end deep inside, swallowing Rudo to the root.
“Kuh … so tight … feels too good ….”
A growl rumbled in Rudo’s throat. He drew out slowly once, hot slick trailing in threads, the wet sound echoing.
Then he drove back in—heavy, deep.
In that same moment, he released the thumb sealing the slit and swiftly unraveled the crimson ribbon.
“Ha, nh, aah—!!”
The instant freedom hit, lightning shot up Follo’s spine.
The long-blocked passage opened; thick, clear fluid spilled first in a rush.
Scorching pleasure raced from crown to toe.
His hips shook uncontrollably; tears fell from wide, unfocused eyes; drool trailed from parted lips.
Yet Rudo didn’t stop.
He thrust heavily into the depths, releasing hot pulses deep inside Follo’s core.
“Nnh, ha, aaAAAAHH—!!”
At the same instant, white ropes erupted forcefully from Follo, arcing high enough to splatter the sheets, warm droplets raining across both their stomachs.
A long, long wave of climax finally enveloped them gently.
Sweat, fluids, and ragged breaths mingled, filling the room with a sweet, lewd scent.
Rudo slowly lowered himself over Follo, covering trembling lips with his own.
This time, only a quiet touch. A soft, lingering kiss.
“Follo.”
“… Hm?”
The moment he turned at the sound of his name—
“Merry Christmas.”
Rudo said it with an oddly serious face.
Follo’s eyes flew wide a beat later.
“… Now??”
His voice cracked without meaning to.
His hands were still bound, his body limp and spent, his mind barely functioning. Hearing those words in this state felt, by any measure, catastrophically mistimed.
“I just … realized I forgot to say it earlier ….”
Rudo scratched his cheek awkwardly as he spoke.
Follo stared at the ceiling and let out a long, deep sigh. He was too drained even to muster a retort.
Rudo’s gaze drifted once more over the red outfit and the scattered ribbons, and he continued, a little sheepish.
“And … that outfit looks incredible on you.”
“… You’re saying that now?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” Rudo confirmed, utterly earnest.
When he put it so straightforwardly, it was hard to argue.
Follo gave in, turning his eyes back to meet Rudo’s with a sidelong glance.
“… Then,” he said, voice carrying just a hint of mischief as he looked down at the red clothes and ribbons still clinging to him. “Mind taking it off for me, Rudo?”
The words froze Rudo’s expression solid.
“… Huh?”
Follo narrowed his eyes in quiet satisfaction.
The holy night, it seemed, was far from over.
【End】