[BL] I Accidentally Summoned A Demon Husband Now He Won't Leave-Chapter 22: Pressed Against A Naked Body

With a heavy pant of relief, Elliot quickly changed into a slightly worn-out pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt, his hands trembling slightly as he fastened the buttons. His heart was still racing, his mind unable to shake the vivid, disorienting experience he had just endured. He couldn’t stay in his dorm room any longer—not after what had just happened. The overwhelming sensation of being dragged into that strange, unknown space lingered in his mind like a nightmare that refused to fade.

What if it happened again? What if he was suddenly pulled back into that terrifying place without warning?

A sharp heat coursed through his veins, and he gritted his teeth, pressing a hand against his chest as if that would somehow ease the burning sensation that was spreading inside him. It wasn’t an unbearable pain—yet—but it was definitely unnatural. He could feel his body struggling to regulate itself, as though something foreign had taken root in him.

He was sure this was a side effect of the raw mana he had absorbed earlier. The way it had surged through him, raw and untamed, left little doubt that it was affecting his body in ways he didn’t fully understand. And if left unchecked...

He swallowed hard.

It could turn into a real, life-threatening situation.

He needed answers, and more than that, he needed help.

But from whom?

No one in the academy regarded him with any importance. He was just another nameless face, a nobody amongst prodigies, struggling to survive. The instructors wouldn’t waste their time on him, and the other students certainly wouldn’t care if he suddenly collapsed in the middle of the hallway.

There was only one person he could think of who might be willing to lend him a hand—Charles.

The problem?

Elliot barely knew anything about Charles aside from his name and the fact that they were both newbies in the same cultivation class. He didn’t even know where Charles’ dorm was, didn’t know which room he stayed in, and didn’t even know if he would be willing to help.

Still, there was one possible solution—asking around.

With how well-dressed and wealthy Charles appeared, it was inevitable that someone in the academy would know him. Someone had to recognize him.

So Elliot went from person to person, describing Charles as best as he could. But his search quickly turned into an exhausting ordeal. Apparently, there were multiple people named Charles in the academy. Too many, in fact. The only way to distinguish them was by their last names—which Elliot, of course, didn’t know.

Great. Just his luck.

He groaned inwardly, realizing that this was going to take longer than expected.

Without any other clues, he had no choice but to visit each dorm associated with a "Charles," enduring the awkwardness of knocking on random doors, only to be met with confusion or irritated glares. The process was humiliating, and just when he was about to give up, he finally found the right room.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he stepped inside without waiting for a response. His eyes scanned the space quickly, searching for any sign that this was the Charles he was looking for. The moment he spotted familiar clothing—the same ones Charles had been wearing when he saw him a day before—he knew he had finally found the right person.

"Thank God..." he muttered under his breath.

He glanced around the room, but Charles was nowhere to be seen.

Before he could call out to Charles, a voice echoed from somewhere close to the room.

"Charles baby, are you all prepped to dominate me on the bed later?"

Elliot’s body went rigid.

His brain struggled to process what he had just heard. The words alone were shocking enough, but the most startling part was the voice belonged to a man.

Did he hear that correctly?

He wasn’t imagining things, right?

That was definitely a man’s voice.

And that man was clearly talking about something... intimate.

No, no, no.

His mind raced. No, there was no way he misheard that. The words were crystal clear, and the implication was very obvious.

Was Charles... gay?

A part of him wanted to deny it. Maybe this wasn’t the Charles he was looking for. Maybe he had made a mistake again. But before he could cling to that thin hope, the voice rang out once more, this time even closer than before.

At that moment, he became aware of the sound of running water coming from an adjacent bathroom.

Then—

It stopped.

Elliot’s cheeks heated up slightly. His pulse quickened.

Was Charles in the bathroom?

Panic surged through Elliot’s chest as he took an instinctive step back. Shit.

This was bad. This was really bad.

He suddenly realized how compromising this situation was.

He hesitated, then cautiously whispered, "Charles?"

Before he could react—

The bathroom door swung open.

A strong arm grabbed him—

And dragged him inside.

SLAM!

The door clicked shut behind him.

And suddenly, his body was pressed flush against Charles’ bare, damp, and incredibly warm skin.

Elliot froze.

For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe. His brain completely shut down, every coherent thought wiped away as he became painfully aware of just how close they were.

Charles’ body was firm and solid, his chest sculpted like a work of art. Droplets of water clung to his tanned skin, glistening under the dim bathroom light. His dark silver, jaw-length hair was wet, strands sticking to his sharp, angular face in a way that only enhanced his already devastatingly good looks.

Elliot swallowed thickly.

His breath hitched.

Oh, God.

Charles was half-naked.

No— practically naked, Charles had nothing on except for a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, and their proximity—God—it was too much. He could feel Charles’ breath ghosting against his skin, feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thudding against his own chest.

They were too close.

Way too close.

And his body... was reacting.

Elliot hated it.

He hated that his face was heating up, that his heart was racing for reasons he didn’t understand. He hated that Charles’ presence—his scent, his touch, his warmth—was making his mind spiral into chaos.

And then—

The door to the room opened outside.

That same unmistakable voice called out, irritation lacing every word:

"Charles! You promised to take me to Cloud Nine tonight! Where are you?!"

The frustration in the man’s voice was obvious. Elliot could hear the distinct sound of things being shuffled around, as if the person was actively searching for Charles.

His throat went dry.

Shit.

If that guy found them like this—

His gaze snapped back to Charles, who, much to his frustration, seemed completely unbothered by their position.

Elliot, on the other hand, was losing his damn mind.

What the hell was wrong with him?!

His body was acting up, responding to Charles in ways that made no sense. He had never—never—been affected by another man before.

So why?

Why was his pulse hammering wildly in his chest?

Why did Charles’ touch feel hotter than it should?

Why did he suddenly feel like he couldn’t trust his own body anymore?

This wasn’t normal.

This couldn’t be normal.

His body was acting up in ways he didn’t like.

Especially when he glanced up—and his gaze locked with Charles’ piercing light-blue eyes.

Elliot’s throat went even drier.

Charles was... unbelievably handsome.

And his physique?

Unfair.

Perfectly sculpted muscles, broad shoulders, a toned chest—Elliot hated to admit it, but Charles had the kind of body he envied.

A body he wanted.

A body he—

Wait.

Why was he thinking like this?

Why was his heart pounding so fast?

No, this definitely wasn’t happening.

Desperately, he tried to reassure himself.

He was straight.

He had always been straight.

Right?

Or was he... not?

Doubt crept into his mind, unsettling and foreign.

He didn’t even trust himself anymore.

But somehow, he found the courage As the words left his lips before he could stop them, whispered in a voice barely above a breath.

"You... you’re... are you gay?"