The One and Only Sami Chapter 1

Jasmine, pomegranate, oasis, sand, mint, apple, rose, tree bark, iron, and fire.

And the scent of hyssop flowers spreading freshly.

“Sami.”

The space, filled with layers of fragrance so luxurious it felt decadent, was less like a room and more like a giant incense burner.

Especially so whenever the pillar decorations, crafted as beautifully as golden chalices, and the long, drooping leaves of the foliage plants cast overlapping, flickering shadows upon one another.

“There are many Maruts in this world.”

Inside the incense-like room, a man took his lips away from a tobacco pipe and whispered softly.

As if he were choosing one story out of a thousand and one nights to tell until dawn, his voice was secretive and laid low with a smoky huskiness. The bass tone, flowing in as if licking against his skin, was ticklish. Sami’s toes curled inward without him realizing it.

It was fragrant and dizzying.

The smoke blooming in thick clusters from between the man’s smooth lips was a pale purple, like the mist seen in a dream. Carrying a moist dampness, the slowly spreading smoke seeped through the veils draped over the bed. Beyond the veils, thin as a dragonfly’s wing, an opaque silhouette billowed.

“Razard…”

Everything surrounding them was low, secretive, and soft. The smoke, the veils, the slender breeze, the lamplight, and the sound of finely trembling leaves. Everything draped before his eyes swayed with ambiguity.

“Ah…”

Only one thing—the man whispering softly before him—shone as clearly as if he were made of crushed gold and sun. The man approached Sami’s face with a natural familiarity and rubbed his lips against that skin. Hair resembling sand heated by the sunlight spilled down softly.

Lips that had emptied out the fragrant smoke touched Sami’s forehead, the corners of his eyes, his cheeks, and finally, his weakly parted mouth. They bumped together softly, like silk rubbing against silk.

Chu, chu.

The sound of soft, wet mucous membranes meeting began to fill the density of the fragrance-filled room.

Chu, chuu.

Just as the sound of the touching lips grew thick as if rolling honey in their mouths, they parted with a blurred exhale. Their lips overlapped as if interlocking, and in a natural sequence, they tangled their tongues.

“Razard, Razard…”

“Yes, Sami. Shhh…”

In the room that tickled Sami precariously, only the breath and the tongue crawling into his mouth were hot. The wet, supple sounds piled up layer by layer atop each other’s tongues.

As if possessed by some illusion or magic, he received and served the man’s tongue.

Sami’s head was hazy, and a strange scent clung to his skin. To have a body melting so softly—it was something he couldn’t have even imagined just a few months ago.

The body that had known no kind of sexuality until it reached twenty years of age was now merely being sucked upon the man’s tongue to a degree that made its past innocence seem laughable.

“Mmph, nngh…”

Conversely, though he had been tamed by those lips and tongue for months, Sami was still clumsy, having not yet learned how to move his tongue suggestively.

Both the way he swallowed the offered saliva without any knack for it, and the way he pressed his tongue flat against the bottom when the other’s entered to serve him—allowing the man to play with the inside of his mouth to his heart’s content. Sami’s inexperienced tip of the tongue was simply the man’s preference.

“You listen well now, Sami.”

Sami did not even know what kind of submission this kiss contained. Without even knowing the shame of being toyed with by the man’s tastes, he was simply being tamed step by step.

That was what the man wanted.

Sami had to be touched and touched again until he became the shape that fit most perfectly in his hand.

Because becoming something solely for that one person was the task given to Sami.

“Haah…”

The tangled tongues unraveled, and Sami’s lips flickered—the same lips that had been receiving the man’s tongue until just a moment ago. Between the plump lips, white, even teeth were briefly revealed before being hidden again as he pulled his lips inward and bit them.

“They are all beautiful jewels, but you, Sami, are special.”

Taking the fragrant smoke into his mouth again, the man approached Sami’s ear. His eyes, narrowed as if lethargic, were drawn so sharply they looked like a snake’s, or perhaps a tiger’s. Even while smiling smoothly, there was something eerie about him, like a beast with sharp teeth.

The lips that had just been sucking on Sami’s lips gathered into a circle. Through them, the fragrant smoke billowed out once more. Shimmering fragments within the smoke dazzled Sami’s eyes.

The smoke was, as expected, a pale purple resembling the color of dawn.

A color that belonged neither to the night nor the morning.

The hue favored by the Jinn, the spirits who cross boundaries.

That fragrant and ominous smoke seemed to stick to his skin and seep even into his ears. Sami unknowingly hunched his shoulders. He felt ticklish throughout.

“There is only one in the world. A living, breathing Marut.”

The man shone brilliantly as if coated in gold, so why did he always feel dangerous, like a wicked illusion?

Within the cheerfully smiling face, Sami felt a poison that seemed ready to stick and cling. Through the low, blurring purple smoke, eyes burning yellow as if fire had been placed inside them were revealed.

He possessed the color of the morning and the fragrance of the night.

“Sami. In front of you, other Maruts are just ghosts of the past. Merely worn-out jewels.”

The man’s finger touched Sami’s unripened cheek. Upon the rings hanging from each of his fingers, jewels crafted into their respective shapes sparkled blindingly.

Those imbued with the scents of jasmine, pomegranate, oasis, sand, mint, apple, rose, tree bark, iron, and fire each embraced their own light, radiant in every color.

Sami felt as if that light were glaring at him. It felt like it was rebuking the life force in Sami’s skin, the breath he exhaled stealthily, and his Adam’s apple that bobbed as he swallowed, using that glistening light to criticize him.

Without a care for Sami’s tense face, the man smiled as he pressed the gold dust from his thumb onto Sami’s forehead.

“By borrowing the sun of Harut and the moon of Marut.”

Even the words the people of this country recited like a greeting felt suggestive when placed in the man’s mouth, as if he were whispering a wicked spell.

“My only Marut.”

Eyes that rolled about, not knowing where to look; shoulders hunched in naivety; heels and ankles hardened from living as a messenger for a long time, lacking any supple elegance because they had never been handled by another’s hand.

Even while looking at the flat, slender body that had not fully grown despite reaching adulthood, the man merely looked on with eyes that seemed to find it lovely. Within the sun-like gold, his black pupils were sharp like poison.

“Sami, you must become mine. Because I, too, am the only one of my kind in this world.”

Two things that are one-of-a-kind staying together.

The scent on his fingertips transferred to Sami’s earlobe and forehead, remaining like gold dust. The undergrown physical body was completely overlaid and smeared with what Razard had bestowed. The smoke entwined the two like thin silk.

“Razard.”

Sami’s eyes turned toward him. Round, honest, and lovely eyes.

“Is that… something that can be chosen?”

The man’s mouth curved flexibly, wearing a smooth smile.

Stupid, cute Sami.

It was quite an insolent question, but Razard decided to find his rudeness endearing.

Anyway, he was a being made to become his. He could view such a futile wish as the coquetry of an immature Marut who had not yet been fully tamed.

“Choice, you say…”

The thing the world prepared for me. Despite falling into his arms and growing up there, he still had not grown or bloomed.

It was almost commendable that such a shabby, tiny existence would even harbor such a thought. Sami had been asleep in the form of a seed for twenty years so that he could be tamed according to his touch.

A black, flat seed that hadn’t even sprouted.

The only person who could soften and melt the shell of the seed to pull out the white sprout inside was Razard, and only himself.

The one to trim the tender stem and make it bear fruit, the one to raise it into a plump fruit—all of it had to be Razard. Devouring the grown Sami was a qualification given only to him, the Harut.

While he was just waiting for him to ripen enough to split open at a mere touch, he speaks of choice.

How could he be thinking such a foolish thought?

“Sure. Choose and think as hard as you can.”

Regrettably, this was not a story within an illusion or a magical coercion.

He was not some mistreated servant embarking on a perilous adventure after being ordered to bring back a treasure lamp. This was not a subject for a thousand and one nights, but simply the repetition of a naturally determined record.

A being meant to be intertwined from birth. Mine alone. The only mate who would stick fast to one another like a ring fitting a finger.

“If you can.”

It was the one and only destiny, with no room for choice.

Well… regardless of what kind of annoying curse might strike.