From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 780: Zero Privacy, Maximum Intimacy

A knock sounded at the door, followed almost imdiately by the door opening.

Micah, who was currently inside the bathroom, did not even bother turning his head. He assud it was Darcy returning, likely with food or dication as promised. Relief washed over him instantly, and he called out without thinking, his tone carrying both urgency and impatience.

"Finally, you’re back," he said, his voice echoing slightly against the tiled walls. "I seriously can’t hold it anymore..."

Before he could even finish his sentence, a pair of arms suddenly slipped around him from behind.

A firm hand pressed gently against his stomach, beginning to massage it in slow, deliberate motions.

Micah froze completely. His hands, which had been occupied with his zipper, stilled mid-action. For a brief mont, his mind went entirely blank.

It didn’t take long for him to realise who it was. The faint, familiar scent of sandalwood surrounded him, warm and unmistakable, wrapping around him like an invisible presence that he knew all too well.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. "...Why are you here?" Micah asked, his voice dropping into a low, restrained tone. He did not turn around, but the irritation was evident. "It’s earlier than we agreed."

Behind him, Clyde leaned closer, his breath brushing lightly against Micah’s ear, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"I heard that your stomach was hurting," Clyde replied, his voice calm and unhurried, as though his sudden appearance was the most natural thing in the world. There was a subtle warmth in his tone, one that made it difficult to tell whether he was being genuinely concerned or deliberately teasing.

One of his hands moved, producing a small pill bottle, which he held casually in front of Micah. "Here," he continued, "take this first."

Micah’s eye twitched. He did not hesitate to elbow him sharply."Are you blind?" he snapped, clearly exasperated. "Can’t you see where I’m right now, or what exactly I’m doing? Give so basic privacy, will you?"

Clyde did not move. Not even a little. "Go ahead," he said, completely unfazed by Micah’s protest.

With one hand still resting firmly around Micah’s waist, he used the other to open the pill bottle. He shook one tablet out into his palm before bringing it up to Micah’s lips, his movents slow and deliberate.

"Co on," Clyde murmured. "Open your mouth."

Micah’s forehead creased sharply, his expression twisting in disbelief at the sheer audacity of the situation. Under normal circumstances, he would have argued, resisted, or even outright refused. However, his stomach chose that exact mont to remind him of its presence with an uncomfortable twist.

"...Fucking unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.

Reluctantly, he opened his mouth.

The mont the pill touched his tongue, he bit down harder than necessary, his frustration very clearly directed at Clyde rather than the dication itself. If it had been possible to crush the man’s fingers along with it, he probably would have.

Clyde, however, did not even flinch.

Once Micah finished, he turned his attention back to what he had originally been doing, doing his best to ignore the fact that there was a grown man practically attached to his back.

The entire situation was absurd. Truly, completely absurd.

Their current position felt so ridiculous that if anyone were to walk in at this mont, there would be absolutely no way to explain it without sounding insane, like those insect docuntaries where the male just clings to the female’s back.

The comparison made his irritation spike even further.

After finishing, Micah quickly adjusted himself and pulled up his zipper, his movents stiff and restrained due to Clyde’s unyielding hold. No matter how subtly he tried to shift, the man behind him refused to loosen his grip even slightly.

Micah inhaled slowly, clearly reaching the limits of his patience. He walked over to the sink and turned on the tap, washing his hands with more force than necessary before glancing up at the mirror.

Clyde’s reflection stared back at him, entirely unbothered.

"When exactly are you planning to get off ?" Micah asked flatly.

Instead of letting go, Clyde’s hold seed to tighten slightly, as though the question had produced the opposite of the intended effect.

"But I missed you," Clyde said, his tone softening into sothing almost sulky. "You’ve been staying at the Ramsy mansion for the past two weeks, busy with preparations. I barely got to see you."

Micah stared at his reflection in disbelief. "...Excuse ?" he said slowly. "Was my house suddenly relocated to another planet? Or was the door locked specifically to keep you out? You could have just co over like a normal person."

Clyde leaned in, pressing a light kiss against the side of Micah’s neck.

"Could I have done that in front of your family?" he murmured. "Do you have any idea how they look at ? As if I am stealing you away right in front of them. If I showed up and touched you casually, I would probably be stared to death."

Micah rolled his eyes so dramatically that it felt like they might actually get stuck.

"Fine, fine," he said dismissively. "If that’s the case, then from tonight onwards, I’ll stick to you as much as you want. Let’s see how long it takes before you start begging to give you so space."

Clyde’s lips curved slightly. "That’s never going to happen," he replied quietly.

His gaze shifted toward the mirror again, lingering on Micah’s reflection with an intensity that was difficult to ignore. There was sothing almost possessive in the way he looked at him, as though he were committing every detail to mory.

Micah, dressed in that sage green suit, looked far too striking. Too noticeable. Too... captivating. For a brief mont, Clyde found himself unwilling to let anyone else see him like this.

anwhile, Micah also caught sight of Clyde’s reflection.

The man looked just as composed as ever, his blond hair slicked back neatly, revealing his sharp, angular features. His charcoal suit fit him perfectly, paired with a matte golden tie and a black shirt that contrasted subtly with his pale complexion. The hazel-toned handkerchief in his pocket added just enough colour to tie the look together.

His pale blue eyes softened the mont they t Micah’s gaze."Baby," Clyde said quietly, "you look stunning."

Micah’s throat moved visibly. For a brief mont, he forgot how to respond. He quickly turned his head away, clearing his throat as a faint flush crept up to his ears.

"...Where is Darcy?" he asked abruptly, changing the subject with obvious intention. "I’m starving."

Clyde’s smile deepened slightly, clearly amused. Without teasing him further, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss against Micah’s cheek before finally releasing him.

"I’ll go check," he said.

The mont Clyde stepped away, Micah let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, as though trying to steady himself.

That had been dangerously close. This was neither the ti nor the place to lose control.

Before Clyde could get near the door, it opened from the outside. Darcy returned, carrying a tray.

Micah turned toward him imdiately, only for his expression to fall the mont he saw what was on it.

"...You were gone for that long," Micah said slowly, "and this is what you brought back?"

Darcy remained completely expressionless. "Your fiancé requested it," he replied.

Micah shot a sharp glance toward Clyde, who had just stood there.

"You can’t eat anything too heavy right now," Clyde said calmly, as though this had already been discussed. "This is easier on your stomach. Eat it before it gets cold."

He poured a small amount of honey over the rice porridge before handing Micah a spoon.

Micah sat down reluctantly, his suspicion growing stronger by the second. He narrowed his eyes slightly. Sothing about this felt... deliberate. As though Clyde was preparing him for sothing later. But without any actual proof, he could not say anything.

Clyde grabbed a tissue and tucked it into Micah’s collar, treating him as a baby incapable of eating neatly without a bib.

The vein in Micah’s temple pulsed vigorously but he held his tongue.

Grumbling under his breath, Micah took a few spoonfuls. The honey did make it more tolerable, though he still looked far from pleased.

Just then, another knock sounded. The door opened, and Flora stepped inside after receiving permission.

"Dear, it is ti," she said gently, before pausing as her eyes landed on Micah in his current state. "Sweetheart, is everything alright?"

Her gaze shifted briefly to Darcy and Clyde, who stood on either side of him.

Micah reacted quickly. "It’s nothing," he said, removing the tissue from around his neck with a swift motion. "I was just a bit hungry and did not want to risk dirtying my clothes."

Flora’s expression softened, though a hint of guilt flickered across her face. "Oh... we should have prepared sothing earlier," she said.

Micah smiled lightly, cutting her off. "I was the one who said I did not have an appetite," he replied. "So this isn’t on you. Don’t worry, I am fine now."

She nodded, reassured. "Alright. If you need anything, just let know."

"Of course," Micah said. "Thanks, Mum."

Darcy stepped forward, picking up Micah’s jacket and waistband before handing them to him.

"Here," he said. "I will go downstairs with Mum."

Micah nodded as he began putting them back on.

Darcy escorted Flora out of the room, leaving the two of them alone once again.

Clyde stepped closer without a word, helping fasten the waistband and smooth out the fabric of Micah’s outfit with careful, practised movents.

Once everything was in place, he took a step back, observing him briefly.

"Ready?" he asked.

Micah adjusted his jacket one last ti in front of the mirror, brushing down invisible creases before exhaling softly.

"...Yeah," he said. "Let’s go."