“Yes,” Arel whispered, leaning on Kors with his whole body and pulling off his pants.
Chapter 5
“Why have you got drunk? I let you go play your fucking cards! I gave you permission! I fulfilled your wish, because I know how much you love it! And you got drunk!”
Kors shouted at his Nik, who returned to their tent in the morning and was pretty drunk.
“All clear! Dull silence! A ram’s look!”
Kors kicked in annoyance at their camp bed, on which Nik was sitting, and Nik quickly moved aside.
“I drank quite a little…”
“Have you seen yourself from the side?”
“Forgive me…”
“Yes, for you to say “I'm sorry” is as easy as to go have a piss!”
“You said one can’t say that … express himself in this way.”
“Why have you got drunk again? I don’t understand, explain to me!”
Nik thought for a while:
“Because it’s… it’s very pleasant.”
“Pleasant?! Is it pleasant to drink and hang around with all sorts of obscure personalities?”
“Personalities?”
“With all sorts of garbage!”
“It’s fun…”
Kors literally gasped with indignation:
“Fun?! Well, for goodness’ sake! I have no words! Your drunken friends will break your head sooner or later! Mador will split your stupid head, this will be also fun!”
“No.”
“Yes! This is usually the end of such adventures, believe me, I know. And you choose your friends the right way – only crap!”
Nik slid off the trestle bed and knelt in front of his father, bending down to him and kissing his boots. He knew that Kors really liked this demonstration of humility and obedience: at the very beginning of their relationship, Kors forced Nik to do it, angering and humiliating him, but now, as time passed, he taught his son to such an expression of love and gratitude. Nik was used to this and often, without orders, crawled at Kors’ feet, licking his boots like a faithful dog. Kors was always happy to let him do it, but now he brutally threw him away.
Having slightly lost his balance (both from Kors’ kick and from the fact that he was very drunk), Nik fell on his side, but quickly pulled himself together and sat down. He didn’t rise from his knees and was silent, allowing his father to scold him. No matter how hard he tried, Kors didn’t feel a stream of suffering or any kind of experience from Nik. Deciding that it was alcohol to blame, which blocked his son’s consciousness and prevented him from being sad and fully feeling the burden of guilt, Kors stopped scolding him:
“Put on the mask! I can’t see your drunken face! Oh, demonic nature, why should I be so punished – to have such a son!”
Nik, upset, but obediently reached for his mask and put it on. He finally got up from his knees and lay down on their trestle bed on his side, facing the wall, clearly trying not to “stick out like a sore thumb” and not provoke Kors. Frustrated, Kors left him alone and lay down on the skins next to him, defiantly embracing Arel.
They slept almost all day and only woke up in the evening.
“Can I take off my mask?” Nik asked cautiously. “I’ll wash and brush my teeth.”
“What for are you asking me?! When you get drunk, you don’t ask me!” Kors snapped sharply and irritably.
Nik sat in front of him with his head down, and Kors saw that he had not touched the mask, didn’t take it off without permission.
“You can take it off!”
“Thank you, daddy, please forgive me.”
“Oh!”
Nik took off his mask and looked at his father apologetically. He looked sad. Unable to remain serious at the sight of his cute face, Kors involuntarily smiled.
