The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era [BL]

WULFRIC'S heart thumped at Aster's mention of a 'reward'. All the nervousness and anxiety he'd felt about possibly being discovered as the one behind the shower of jasmine petals seemed to scatter instantly. Now he could only wonder: what exactly did Aster mean by a reward?

Before his brain could fully process the thought, the words slipped out: "What reward?"

A small, secret smile tugged at Astrid's lips when Wulfric took the bait. The prince's curiosity had clearly overridden his self-preservation. Before Wulfric could reconsider, Astrid pressed on:

"You'll find out once you answer my question truthfully. So what's it going to be? Lie and get ignored for a week, or tell the truth and get your reward?"

The choice was obvious. The moment Wulfric heard Aster might ignore him for lying, his decision was made—though it suspiciously felt like he'd just walked into a cunningly made trap.

He shook his head and sighed. Then he looked straight at Aster and answered truthfully, "I did it."

Even though he was already expecting that answer, Astrid still felt a flicker of surprise. "How did you pull it off?"

If Casey hadn't known, that meant Wulfric had arranged it without even EMMA's owner noticing. That level of stealth had Aster genuinely curious—hence, why it was his first question.

Wulfric rubbed the back of his neck, a rare sheepish gesture. "I may have... called in a favor with the venue's head technician. The Stellar Atrium uses the same event coordinators as imperial palace functions. I just requested a 'special effect' be added to the finale."

Astrid raised a brow. While Wulfric's explanation sounded simple, he knew it couldn't have been that straightforward. It likely involved layers of complexity, yet Wulfric had pulled it off unnoticed. Astrid could only imagine the effort it must have taken—all just to surprise him.

A warmth spread through Astrid's chest at the realization. Wulfric had gone through all that trouble just for him. It was excessive, over the top, and so very Wulfric. He pressed his lips together, but the small smile breaking through gave him away—he was undeniably touched.

And that's really all that mattered.

"Thank you," Astrid said, his voice softer than usual, the words carrying a quiet sincerity.

Wulfric shifted awkwardly. When he'd planned the surprise, he hadn't expected anything in return—he just wanted Aster to shine the most during his first runway show. But seeing Aster's genuine appreciation, that awkwardness melted into quiet pride and happiness.

"I'd move stars if it meant seeing you smile like that."

He met Aster's gaze, the usual sharpness in his golden eyes replaced by something warmer. A faint smile tugged at his lips—not the confident smirk he usually wore, but something quieter, more sincere. He held Aster's eyes just a beat longer than necessary, letting the unspoken weight of his words settle between them.

Astrid felt his ears grow warm, caught off guard by Wulfric's words. How could the prince say things like that so easily? Yet at the same time, it was so him—blunt and unwavering. The sincerity of it made something flutter in Astrid's chest, equal parts exasperation and fondness.

He looked away for a moment, clearing his throat before meeting Wulfric's gaze again.

"I'll send your reward later," he said, then added softly, "And... thank you. For the jasmine petals. I really liked it." A faint smile touched his lips before he continued, "Good night, Wulf."

Before Wulfric could respond, the call ended abruptly. He blinked—he hadn't even said goodnight yet. Then he remembered how Aster had looked away after his last words, and realization dawned. Was Aster actually shy?

But just as he was about to savor that thought, a notification chimed on his Terminal. He checked it and saw that it was a message from Aster. His pulse quickened—was this the promised reward?

Wulfric opened the message, and his entire body went still.

The moving image captured Aster submerged in the bath, his inky black hair slicked back, water droplets gliding down his temples to trace the elegant line of his jaw before disappearing down his throat. Steam curled off his damp skin, giving his normally pale complexion a faint flush. His collarbones peeked above the bubbled surface, the hollows accentuated by the warm lighting. One arm draped lazily over the edge of the tub, fingers dangling with casual grace, while a single bare foot breached the foam, toes flexing slightly—an unintentionally intimate detail.

But it was his expression that truly undid Wulfric. Aster's lips parted just enough to reveal the barest hint of teeth as that familiar smirk played across his features, as if he could see exactly what this image would do to its recipient. The bubbles concealed just enough to tantalize, their slow pop and reform at the water's surface drawing attention to what they half-revealed with each subtle shift.

Wulfric's heart hammered against his ribs, the sudden rush of heat making his pulse roar in his ears. His blood seemed to surge south all at once, leaving him lightheaded as a familiar, uncomfortable tightness strained against his pants. Just as he registered the warmth spreading through his face, a distinct, metallic tang hit his tongue—followed by the slow, wet sensation of something dripping past his lips.

He instinctively raised a hand to his face, fingers brushing his upper lip. When he pulled them away, his fingertips came back stained with red.

He actually had a nosebleed!

Wulfric stared at the photo again, his thumb hovering over the screen as if this scene were happening right in front of him. The image looped perfectly—Aster's wet hair, that slow, teasing smile, the way the bubbles clung just enough to suggest more. His breath hitched.

"Damn," he muttered, voice rough. "What a reward."

He would definitely have a sleepless night. That image of Aster would be seared into his mind for hours. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd see it again, feel that same jolt of heat low in his gut. And with the photo still glowing on his Terminal, begging to be replayed, sleep was a lost cause.

Wulfric exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Yeah, he wasn't getting any rest tonight.