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"I heard your voice, so I came."

The voice I thought I would never hear again is reaching my ears once more.

"Aoba-san."

My throat burns fiercely and tears begin to fall from my eyes. Against my palms, the cold metal of the railings sears my skin hot and cold, and it's all I can do to open my mouth and stare. It feels like my heart is about to burst, it hurts so, so much.

He stands up gracefully, and through my blurred vision, I see him fold up his umbrella. It disappears into his pockets. I blink more tears from my eyes as he carefully hops across the rooftops, stepping gently on tiles with a small "ha" noise escaping his smiling lips.

It feels like my heart is going to burst—

I peel my sweating palms off the railings and step back just in time for him to swing his legs over and land softly on the veranda. His white coat swishes as he settles down and stands before me. His pale eyes are twinkling and his lips turned up ever-so-slightly into that sweet smile I had yearned to see for over a year.

"Cl—" My words stick to my dry, burning throat. I swallow and try again, but it doesn't work. He merely remains there, watching me.

In a daze, I lift a hand and touch my fingertips gently against his cheek. It's warm. He's warm.

Immediately, he closes his eyes, leans into my hand, and lets out a sigh. His own gloved fingers wrap around my wrist, and he presses his lips against my palm.

"… Aoba-san," he breathes into it.

At that moment, a cry finally tears itself from my mouth and skitters across the dry air like a startled bird. My arms immediately go around his neck, and I strain up to bury my face into his neck. His arms circles around me automatically and holds me up to his body.

"Clear…!" He smells warm and dry, like blankets left in the sun to dry.

"Aoba-san," he says again, his voice threading through my hair.

I want to scream.

This can't be a dream. It can't be another cruel dream that I will wake up from, shaking and crying. This warmth isn't Ren anxiously sitting on my chest and patting me with his paws. This scent isn't the breeze when I leave the windows open at night.

This voice, this solidity, this groundedness, this, this, this—

"I'm home, Aoba-san."

This is Clear.

—Isn't it?

I don't know how long we stand out there on the veranda, just fiercely embracing. I can't stop crying, not even after I lose all my tears. After that, it is my year-long despair and yearning which leaks from my eyes, and those, Clear kisses and brushes away carefully with his lips, nose, and cheeks. A few times, he backs away to look at my face, and I can see his reddened and wetted eyes reflecting my gaze. Despite this, his smile hasn't faded in the least.

We bring our lips together in those moments, only softly pressing them together at first, as if afraid the other will disappear if we apply any more pressure than that. But then, I open my mouth, and Clear touches his tongue against mine. I scarcely breathe between the seconds which pass by like that, my throat and chest still swelling with pain.

And, as I suffocate with emotion, Clear always knew when to pull back and let me learn how to draw breath again. With his nose, he nudges mine playfully. His eyes are closed and his long lashes flutter, some strands stuck together with tears and sadness and joy. He kisses the edge of my opened mouth and traces my cheek with smiles, only stopping at my ear to whisper something inaudibly along the way.

Each time I murmur his name, he patiently replies with, "I'm here, Aoba-san," "I'm home," "It's okay," "I'm here," "I'm here," "I'm here."

Eventually, I become so tired of clinging onto him that my knees give out, and Clear slowly lowers us to the floor. He keeps me in his lap, his arms around me and hands softly, softly stroking my hair. He sings for me quietly while we kneel there, and my heart really does burst then.

Finally, after the sun goes down and the night settles in with a subtle chill, Clear smiles into my hair and says, "Aoba-san, should we head in now?"

Completely spent and still overwhelmed with swirling feelings, all I can do is nod weakly.

"Can you stand?"

I nod again, and Clear begins to unfold his legs and stand up, taking me along with him. It takes me a second, but I am able to support myself again in this too-vivid, too-long dream.

We go in, and he quietly slides the veranda door shut. The curtains squeak as they are drawn. My room is dark, as I had not bothered to turn on the light since I came home who knows how long ago.

With a gentle hand, Clear guides me to the edge of my bed and lets me sit. As I sink into the mattress, he moves away, and a visceral stab of pain seizes me suddenly. Before I even register what I'm doing, my arm shoots out and grabs a fistful of the back of his coat. In my haste of grabbing him, I half-stand from my previous position. My other hand shakily comes up to cover my fist.

"Aoba-san," Clear says mildly, turning around and carefully touching my rigid arms.

"—n't go," I croak, bile rising to my throat as the paralyzing fear of separation wraps around me. I can't look him in the eye anymore. I'm so scared.

As if he could read my mind, Clear crouches down and nudges me back onto the bed. "This isn't a dream."

But I had heard that line too many times before waking up. Stubbornly, I cling onto him.

"I'll be right back. Don't worry." In the shadows of my room, Clear's eyes glitter softly like splintered ice.

He said, "This isn't a dream," but how could it not?

… How could it not?

I release my hold, and he stands up quietly.

His shoes, I realize, are still on as he walks across my room and out of it. The hallway light flicks on shortly after that.

As I sit there, numbed and waiting for Ren to lick my face and whimper until I wake from this nightmare, I hear the muffled noises of running and glass clinking around.

I wonder what is taking so long. Usually by this point, I would have already jolted awake, feeling like someone had shoved their hand through my chest and wrenched out my soul. But now, time is passing so slowly. I stare at my hands, which hang loosely between my knees.

A long shadow spills over the rectangle of light leading into my room.

"Aoba-san, I'm going to turn on the lights now."

I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for brightness to flood behind my eyelids and draw me out of sleep.

There is a click and the light.

But that's it.

I open my eyes.

Clear is kneeling in front of me again, smiling.

"This isn't a dream," I breathe.

To confirm my incredulous discovery, he says, "No, it isn't."

A knot forms in my throat and my face heats up again. I screw my eyes shut once more.

I want to ask so many useless questions. Questions like, "How?" and "Why?"

But I know all the answers to them already.

Because I allowed him to be sent to the lab and because there had always been a chance for him to return.

"You must be thirsty." Clear's voice coaxes me out of my thoughts.

I didn't notice at first, but he had come back with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. His shoes are off too. So that's where he went. I swallow.

"Yeah," I rasp, as if to confirm his statement. The chill of the glass feels good against my hand as he passes it to me. I gulp down the water greedily as Clear watches, waiting for me to finish. Once I have, he takes the half-empty cup and hands me the cloth to clean my face.

It still feels surreal. This is the first time we saw each other again after so long, yet he is still the same thoughtful and caring Clear he had always been. Never saying more than he needs to, but just enough to settle deep in my heart and stay there forever.

The glass and cloth go onto the table, and he settles next to me and watches me.

The same million questions scatter my thoughts, each one fighting to be asked but none of them coming out. In the end, the only thing I did is look back at him. Really, nothing has changed.

I bring my hands up again to touch his face once more.

"I've missed you."

His smile widens slightly.

"I'm sorry I overslept, Aoba-san."

An unexpected, hoarse laugh escapes me. A brief smile flickers over his face too, but a sorrowful look quickly dyes his expression.

"For me, it only feels like hours ago that I fell asleep, but it has been much, much longer for you…. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long."

I lean forward and bring our faces together again. "It's fine. You're here now," I say, and then I press my lips to his.

He sighs quietly when I pull away, and he's smiling again.

Before, I was so afraid this was a dream that I didn't want to look at him too closely. I knew that it would only hurt me more if I was able to rememorize every detail of the face I loved so much only to wake up in the end. But now—now that I know it isn't a dream…

His eyes are trained carefully on mine, and we're so close I can see the slight shifting they make as he follows my gaze. It's like he's dissecting my thoughts, carefully gauging every breath I make or time I blink my eyes.

I lightly touch his right temple, where he had once driven a knife into in order to protect me. A flicker of pain passes his face. There is no scar there, no sign that anything ever happened. His skin is smooth and pale, completely unmarred. My fingers move down to his cheek, right under his eye. Here too, where all his skin had once peeled off and revealed the dark metal of his self…. It is flawless. The edges of his mouth, the corners of his eyes, the tip of his nose, the two moles on his chin—they're all in perfect condition.

The air has the same delicate quality as the time when Clear removed his mask for me and allowed me to see his face for the first time. His breathing is suspended and careful as he watches me examine him. My heart beats fast, and I open my mouth.

"You're so beautiful," I murmur, finally voicing the thing I had thought ever since I saw his true visage.

His eyes close tightly, and his lips stretch out in a pained line. I kiss his furrowed brows and bring his face to my chest.

Clear's hands weakly hold onto the front of my jacket as he leans his forehead against my sternum, and I can feel faint tremors coming from his shoulders. The next time he speaks, his voice is shaking.

"I really do love Aoba-san so much…."

He brings his face up again and kisses me. It's more frantic this time. He opens his mouth immediately and lets out a short, impatient breath. I swallow it and curl my fingers into his hair. His tongue goes into my mouth, and I suck on it.

"—ba-san," he murmurs after drawing back wetly. The way he looks at me makes my chest and stomach warm. It's such an apologetic look he's giving me. His lips are slightly flushed and parted, and Clear's gaze is boring into me. With a hand on my back, he slowly makes me lie down on the bed.

His white hair and scarf hang down above me as he braces his hands on either side of my head. Absently, I stroke the fabric of the scarf and smile. He looks puzzled at my actions but says nothing. Carefully, I take hold of both the ends of the scarf and pull, taking him down with them. His elbows resist bending at first but once he realizes what I'm doing, he complies easily.

As we meet for another heated kiss, I unravel the scarf from his neck and put it somewhere to my side. Clear's hands are coming up my shirt, and the fabric of his gloves slides across my skin easily. I hold my breath as his fingers go across my stomach, and a ticklish sensation causes a bubble of laughter to come up my throat. I try to swallow it, but to no avail.

Quickly, I put my hands over his to stop him.

"Aoba-san?"

"It tickles," I explain, a slanted smile stretching across my face. I twist my hands and lace my fingers with his. My lips part and I breathe with my eyes closed. That's right. The previous time we were in this kind of situation, the last thing on my mind was laughing and smiling. My heart clenches in pain at the memory, but the tickling of Clear's hair on my forehead eases it quickly.

He's looking at me cautiously, his head tilted down slightly. He's peering at me through his eyelashes, as if asking for permission. A nervous smile plays around his lips, and his gaze darts away for a second.

"I'm sorry. Again, I'm asking for such a selfish desire…."

I let out a breath of air of laughter. "If it's me who also has such a selfish desire, then it's fine, isn't it?" I gingerly touch him on the thigh.

In response, Clear stiffens and sucks in a quick gasp of air. His cheeks flush, and he still refuses to meet my gaze.

Aah, indeed, the situation really is different now, even though neither he nor I have changed.

The corners of my lips curl up. "Cute…" I say softly.

Clear makes a small noise and presses his forehead against my collarbone.

My smile grows as I realize how our roles have reversed. The last time—the bitter last time—he was the one embarrassing me, saying all these kinds of things.

I let him hide for a few more seconds and stroke his hair before lightly yanking on it to get his attention. He looks up immediately, and I smile at him. I shift subtly on the bed. Clear watches me carefully, and the heat in his eyes returns.

His hands begin to tug on my jacket, and I half-sit to help him get it off. In turn, I shove my hands across and behind his shoulders to remove his coat. It lands on the floor with an airy "thwump" along with my jacket. While I'm sitting up, I pull off my shirt as well. The pile of clothing on the floor quickly accumulates.

My fingers shake a little as I unbutton Clear's shirt. He swallows so hard I can hear him. I take a moment to admire his bared upper half. Even if he is literally built this way, it's still quite a sight.

Clear kisses me again, tracing my mouth with his tongue and gently coaxing me to tilt my head back. I let him explore deeply, responding enthusiastically in kind. He begins to make small noises in the back of his throat as we continue to stroke our tongues together. His lips mold against mine, alternating between being soft and firm, and it drives me crazy. I swallow whatever I can between the two of us, but we're so frantic and excited that things begin to get rather messy.

We're touching each other wherever we can reach, and the subtle noise of dry skin on dry skin fills our ears. Halfway through our mutual groping, I help slip off his gloves. I play with his nipples by rubbing my thumbs over them simultaneously, which elicits a sharp "Ah!" from him. He withdraws his chin and furrows his brow at the spark of pleasure.

In retaliation—or experimentation, I can't tell which it is—he pinches mine firmly. The pleasurable pain surprises me and my body jerks forward. This time, I am the one who breaks the kiss. My tongue presses up on the roof of my mouth hard as I let out an abbreviated moan. Clear takes that opportunity to slip his fingers around the back of my jeans, where they rode down just far enough for him to tease the beginning of the cleft.

I pull back when it feels like I am going to die from the heat. Though I have been breathing hard through my nose the entire time, the way Clear is making me feel is robbing my body's capability to properly accept oxygen. Clear is just as winded as I am, but in a feverish rush, he presses our lips together again, reconnecting the string of clear saliva that had pulled between us when we parted. Wetness smears across my mouth, and I groan.

I fall back onto my pillow, hair splaying around me in a messy array. Clear sits on my hips, his legs on either side of me, trapping me. Even through our clothing, I can feel his hardness against mine. His lips shine in the light of my room. They're a deep red with how violently we were kissing. Already, his eyes have gained a sort of glazed look as he looks at me from above.

Suddenly embarrassed at the thought of how flustered we both look, I turn my head slightly to the side and hide my eyes behind the curled back of my fingers. With one arm bent up to shield my face, my other hand rests protectively on my chest. I don't know where the boldness I had before had gone.

My hips are lifted slightly, and a jangling noise comes from below me. Clear is taking off my belt. A thread of panic laces through me, but I swallow and bite the inside of my cheek.

"Aoba-san? Is this okay?"

Not trusting myself to form any intelligible answer, I merely nod. I move around to help Clear.

"—Aah…!" I can't help the noise that slips past my throat when Clear slowly pulls my pants and underwear down. If I didn't know any better, he might have been purposefully dragging the rough fabric over my stiff length. I crack open my eyes to look at him, only to find him staring intensely back.

So he really is doing it on purpose.

The thought of him teasing me like this makes me feel simultaneously embarrassed and turned on. My cock twitches, something Clear doesn't miss.

He carefully pulls my pants the rest of the way off and then, I'm completely naked. The room is suddenly too bright, and I'm too exposed. It's beyond late to escape Clear's roaming gaze, but I still close my legs a bit just to save my pride.

Clear scoots closer and smiles at me. With his hands on my knees, he gently opens my legs and leans down to kiss me. Our breaths mingle for a brief second before he goes lower.

A moan cuts through the room when he opens his mouth and covers my nipple with it. It's so warm and wet, and the way he laves his tongue over me sends tingles down the base of my spine. His hands are resting much closer to my inner thighs now. They are dangerously close, in fact. If he had not been applying so much pressure, I would not have been able to do anything but laugh from the ticklish feeling. The thought of laughing in a situation like this is wiped out completely when he slowly and carefully scrapes his teeth across my sensitive skin.

I gasp sharply. My hands dig into the sheets below me, and my hips jerk up involuntarily. I was not aware of how much sensation I felt there.

Now, Clear begins to stroke the insides of my thighs, his touch firm and warm. It's maddening how close he gets to me. Already, I'm completely hard and dripping on myself but he has not even touched me properly.

Unable to stand it anymore, I release the constraint on my voice. "Clear…!" I don't say more, hoping that he won't make me actually voice what I wanted. It's embarrassing enough like this.

He lifts his head from my chest and swallows softly. Clear's pale eyes are drilling into my own.

"Since Aoba-san did this for me last time—"

The rest of his sentence trails off as he moves even lower. A rush of heat floods me as I realize exactly what he's about to do.

Clear hovers over me, his left hand spread flat against my skin. It's close but not yet touching my erection. His gaze on me is so intense that I don't know where to look.

It excites and embarrasses me to see how turned on he is just by staring at me. More than figuring out how to deal with my mortification, however, I much rather him just start doing something.

I shudder when he exhales hotly over my tip. At this rate, I really will die out of suffering.

Just as I think this, Clear sticks out his tongue and licks the underside of my dick from base to tip. I involuntarily keen at the feeling, and my fingers bury themselves into his hair. It's hot and wet, and suddenly, an overwhelming amount of stimulus hits me. Once he reaches the head, Clear hastily puts as much of my cock into his mouth and starts to suck. At the same time, his hand reaches around me and pumps me firmly.

After having practically no contact there for so long, the flood of sensation nearly makes me cum. Somehow, I hold myself back, even as he slowly but steadily shoves more of me into himself. He's not holding back at all. Between my guttural moans and gasps, I'm dimly aware of how quickly he's able to deep-throat me and how much saliva he's letting drip out. Each time he goes down, he moans and causes vibrations to go through me. It takes all my self-will not to thrust, since I don't want to choke him.

"Cl—" Again, my words stick in my throat, this time because I've been gasping so hard that my mouth has dried up. Instead, I settle for moaning rhythmically with his actions. My voice sounds loud to me, but not quite as loud as the wet slurping noises Clear is not muffling at all.

He starts to slow his pace and lowers his head all the way down, swallowing several times in the process. Hazily, I look down to him and meet his heated gaze. I feel myself twitch in him and coat his throat in pre-cum while we watch each other in ragged silence. Finally, after a few seconds, he pulls his mouth off me completely.

He gently kisses my engorged erection. Clear presses his mouth against the side of my dick near the base and sucks lightly, his tongue swirling over the small area. His slender fingers rub me gingerly, smearing saliva and pre-cum together.

I dazedly mutter to him, "It feels so good," and continue to suck in much-needed air. My fingers absently rub and trace his temple, where his hair is sticking to his skin.

Somehow, that makes him stop all his sweet kisses and licks. Everything stops for a moment, and I'm confused as to why the pleasure has ceased. My mind is too muddled to think straight as it is. But before I can figure out what's going on, Clear takes me into his mouth and starts to violently suck me off once more.

This time, my hips jerk up in surprise, but it doesn't seem to bother Clear at all.

He's moaning loudly again, as if blowing me is giving him more pleasure than I am receiving. The sharp cries that slip from my sometimes-closed, sometimes-opened mouth begin to come in shorter and faster bursts. I'm getting close.

"Cl—aah! Cle—ar, stop, nnngh! Wait—" I rasp out urgently. My whole body is tense and my toes are curling hard against the mattress. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna—"

I can't finish the rest of my warning, and it turns into a scream of sorts as Clear quickens his pace.

This is impossible. I don't know what I want anymore. Clear is making me feel so good that I want to cum, but not yet. Not now—

I feel myself approaching the point of no return, and my voice grows louder each time he goes down on me. The pressure is incredible, and I feel light-headed. My vision is blurry, but I still look down to watch Clear sucking on me. My entire being is prepared to ejaculate, but then everything—

Stops.

Clear pulls off me in one motion, a sticky trail of saliva and pre-cum coming from the tip of my cock to his lips and tongue. His hand holds onto me tightly but doesn't move. He's breathing hard through his mouth, and he still has not pulled his tongue all the way back in. He looks so erotic. His lips are swollen and wet, cheeks a dark pink, and his half-lidded eyes are staring at my straining cock. Twinges of pleasure run through me as my dick twitches in Clear's hand and oozes out more pre-cum.

I'm so close that Clear stopping right that moment is unimaginably frustrating. I almost wish he had just let me cum.

My head falls back, and I throw my hand over my eyes to block out the light with the back of my wrist. "Fuck," I say breathily. I swallow hard and try to calm myself down. My cock still feels incredibly sensitive.

Only the sound of our ragged breathing fills the air.

A familiar metal clinking noise prompts me to lift my hand and look at Clear. As expected, he is taking off his belt. His hands are shaking, and it doesn't help that one of them is coated with fluids. When he notices me watching, he smiles embarrassedly.

"Sorry, you looked and sounded so sexy—…"

"Uh, no, it's fine, just…"

Clear saying that so bluntly throws me off again. Even while doing something as adult as this, his straightforwardness makes him so childlike that I can't help but smile.

"C'mere. Closer to me," I beckon. I straighten my legs to help him.

After a pause, Clear awkwardly moves until he's right above my stomach. My hands reach out for his belt immediately, and I start to unbuckle it.

He's really been holding it in. I can tell because of how obviously tented his pants are. A wet spot has formed on the front. Just my rubbing my finger against the bulge makes Clear gasp.

He swallows. "Aoba-san…"

"Relax. My turn now," I tell him softly.

My heart is beating fast as I finally get the belt to unwind. The button gets stuck a few times, and we both laugh at how much trouble it's giving us. His zipper proves to be less unwieldy. The entire time, Clear has his fingertips resting gently on my wrists.

I run my fingers near the hem of his boxers, right where his skin meets the fabric. His breathing becomes thin and short. I watch his face as I carefully ease the boxers down. The red tip of his erection peeks out as I drag the band down. He's fully hard and wet. I can only imagine how it feels to be that turned on and still not have been touched. I take him into my hand and stroke him once, slowly.

Clear shudders and bites the corner of his lower lip, and his fingers curl around me more firmly. I hadn't done much, but a drip of pre-cum dribbles out of his cock's tip and lands on my stomach. He has been really holding it in.

I feel kind of guilty for having been the only one to be pleasured. I give him a sort of apologetic smile when he cracks open his eyes and looks at me, and then I start touching him in earnest.

He lets out a small whine when I rub my thumb on the underside of his cock and over the slit several times. When I begin to stroke him, Clear groans and leans his body over me. Wood creaks, and I'm aware that he has a grip on the headboard.

His chest is right above me, so I open my mouth and lean up while continuing to stroke him. I'm too distracted by how he sounds while he thrusts shallowly into my hand, so I just let my mouth trace over his chest in random patterns. My other hand plays with his nipple.

Each time he moves his hips, more pre-cum coats my hand until he's freely dripping on me. I try my best to vary the speed and pressure of my strokes, but something touching my hair makes my concentration break. One of Clear's hand has wandered down and begun stroking my head gently. He also has his face against my head. He begins to breathe and moan hard.

It doesn't hurt. In fact, it feels oddly good right now. But I don't recall having ever told Clear that I had feeling in my hair. If he begins to yank on it, it really would be painful, even though I don't feel as much in my hair as before.

I lick him one last time and move back.

"Clear," I call out to him hoarsely. His thrusting slows down a bit, and he lifts his lips from the crown of my head. "I never got the chance to tell you, but my hair has feeling."

Instantaneously, he takes his hand off my hair and backs off. The cool air that replaces his warm breath makes me shiver.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No," I laugh slightly. "Just don't bite or yank on it or something."

I hear him swallow. "So this is… okay?"

He slowly twists the strands around his fingers and rubs them. Tingles go down my spine, and I squirm a little.

With some effort, I manage to say, "Yeah."

"And this too?"

His warm breath seeps through my hair again, and I moan aloud when I feel his lips close around a clump. Hot saliva soaks the strands as he licks it.

I don't know if he actually expects me to reply to that, but I don't. Since pain was the only thing I ever got out of touching my hair, I never tried doing anything to it. And neither has anyone else. At least, not this carefully. My initial reaction was to be disgusted by Clear grooming me like this, but the way my body tingles and cock twitches indicates something else entirely.

My vocal reactions seem to excite him too, because I can feel him throbbing in my hand. He starts to thrust again while playing with my hair. He kisses it and presses strands between his lips delicately, rubbing them together and then releasing them. In so many ways, it shouldn't feel this good to have my hair touched, but….

Clear stops pushing his dick against me and shuffles down until we're at eye-level again. His pink eyes hold a kind of shy nervousness.

"Aoba-san, do you want to do it this time, or—?"

I'm a little surprised by this question, since I had been expecting to receive again.

"I didn't really… think about it."

A tiny smile dances on his lips. "I thought maybe you'd want to…."

"Well, I guess I'm fine either way but…."

"But…?"

"Since it's come to this, I was kind of preparing myself to…." I can't keep looking him in the eye anymore.

"Eh? We could do it like last time, when Aoba-san was ridi—"

I blush fiercely and cover his mouth with my dry hand.

"This is fine, so just get on with it already!"

His smile stretches against my palm, and his eyebrows furrow together in an apologetic expression.

"Okay," he mumbles into my hand. I move it away, and he comes down to kiss me deeply. I breathe out through my nose slowly.

We only kiss for a moment, and then Clear sits back. Since I had only pulled his cock out from his underwear, he's still half-dressed. He takes the time to remove his pants and underwear so he is just as naked as me. I smile at him, and he mirrors me with a sweet expression.

When he moves down on me again, I wonder if he is going to start sucking me off. But when his tongue touches me, it isn't on my erection.

"Wait, Clear, that's—!"

"Mmn?" His tongue is still sticking out of his mouth when he replies. "This is fine, isn't it?" He touches a few fingers to my entrance.

The thing I want to say most is "Absolutely not!" but then his entire mouth covers me there, and he begins to attack me with the same level of enthusiasm that he used when he was sucking me off. With his thumbs, he spreads me apart and presses his tongue in. It starts getting really wet down there, and I try to loosen myself as much as I can so he can reach deeper.

While pushing his tongue into me, he reaches over to my stomach and swipes off some of his pre-cum with his fingers. Even though I know what he's planning to do, the thought makes my body heat up even more.

Just as I expected, he pushes a finger into me and continues to lick my insides. The way he wriggles his tongue against me is exhilarating. Again, my first instinct is to be grossed out, but since it's Clear, I don't care at all. He alternates between softly stroking his tongue along the outside of my entrance and thrusting it in hard. I'm never sure of what will happen next. The anticipation only stirs me up more.

Soon, Clear pulls out his finger almost all the way, only to push in a second one with it. Now, he begins to scissor me. It's a strange feeling, the way his tongue and fingers pry me open. Here, too, I did not realize how sensitive I was.

I lift my hips gently and squeeze around him. A third finger goes in. It doesn't hurt, since he's doing it so slowly. As he thrusts his fingers in and out of me, he returns his attention to my cock.

Clear collects saliva on his tongue and opens his mouth wide before going down on me. As his tongue slides against the underside of the tip, he exhales and makes a tiny noise. In response, I arch my neck and moan loudly. This time, he goes more slowly.

It seems like he's looking for something, as he reaches around and curls his finger experimentally in me. I don't really have the attention to be figuring out what he's doing though.

When he stops sucking me off, I turn my hazy eyes to him. His fingers are still moving in me, and he's watching me with an intense curiosity. I see the tip of his tongue slip out as he licks the corner of his mouth, where some saliva and pre-cum had collected.

"Does it feel good?" he asks as he pushes his fingers firmly in me. I shiver as that causes tingles to go through my body. Each time he prods that part, the sensation grows. My toes and fingers twist into the fabric of my sheets, and I let out a strangled huffing noise. He takes my response as an affirmative one.

The mattress squeaks and dips as Clear comes up again. A shadow falls over me, and when I open my eyes, Clear's eyes watch me. He smiles and leans down.

His fingers continue to move as we kiss messily. When he opens his mouth, I lick the corners of it. He slips his tongue into my mouth to let me taste my own bitterness. Short breaths fan across my face as he moans through his nose. My hands roam his warm back, feeling as his muscles shift underneath his skin. I scratch my fingernails across his skin.

Clear takes both of our erections into his free hand and rubs them together, so I spread my legs open more. We slide against each other smoothly, mainly because of how much wetness Clear had coated me in. His fingers reach farther in.

The next time his fingers rub up on me, I let out a small cry and my face scrunches up. Clear kisses the side of my neck. Vaguely, I feel him smile against my skin. Before I can figure out why he's so happy, he's repeatedly thrusts his fingers on the same spot inside me until I'm gasping out broken squeaks and moans. Wet noises come from below as Clear's fingers move quickly in and out, always precisely hitting the right place.

With his cock rubbing mine with growing fervor and his fingers twisting and spreading me apart wetly, I can feel an orgasm coming up again.

"Haah—Cl… ear…. You're driving me crazy," I gasp into the air. My fingers slip on his skin.

I feel his cock throb against me. "Me too," he breathes, "Aoba-san is also making me very excited…."

He stops nibbling on my collarbone and shoulder and returns to watching my face. Clear's so close that I can't escape his gaze. It's kind of embarrassing to have him look at me like this.

The speed of his ministrations quickens. A spasm of ecstasy crosses his face, his eyes shutting momentarily and his lips parting ever-so-slightly to release a small, "Ah…." As he continues to rub his dick with mine, his eyebrows furrow a little and he starts to pant softly. I thought it was impossible to grow any hotter, but I was wrong. It's like he's showing me exactly how I am making him feel. It's so erotic.

As I watch him pleasure himself, my breathing grows just as short. Everything about Clear—the way his eyelashes quiver each time he clenches his eyes tighter, how he tilts his head back and folds his lips together to moan, his voice, his touch, his warmth—is turning me on.

When he opens his eyes, he's smiling contentedly at me again. Every one of his smiles is so sweet.

I open my mouth, and he immediately pushes our lips together. I stroke my tongue under his and then run it along his teeth. He sucks on it and lightly bites it, making me laugh a little. He does too and gives me a closed-mouth kiss. Several times, he brings our lips together and pulls back, making quiet kissing noises filter into the air.

By this point, his continuous fingering had led me to the edge of cumming again. I can't focus on kissing anymore and lean back to revel in the feeling. It feels good, but I wish there is something bigger in me. It's a little shameful to think that, but when I imagine Clear's hardness thrusting inside me instead of against me, my dick throbs.

"Haah—ah… ah! Mmn!" My moans turn into punctuated jolts. My hips buck and knees quiver. The entire time, Clear looks at me and gauges my reactions attentively. The hand around us starts to pump faster, and Clear's fingers are rubbing me feverishly.

"Aoba-san—" His voice is breathless as he groans my name.

I swallow, but my mouth is dry and hot. "Clear, I'm close…!"

The bed creaks with Clear's thrusting, and our grunts overlap sporadically. My stomach gets wetter and wetter as both of us drip profusely on it. I arch my body up to Clear's. It's hot.

Pleasure wracks my entire body, not just in my cock. It builds intensely in me, ready to explode. I'm trembling in anticipation, and it feels like my every muscle is taut and straining.

Whatever noise comes from my mouth is slurred and lazy. Everything is combining into a mess of moans and gasps, and I can't control them any longer. My heart races as I whimper.

I'm so close—

In just a few strokes, I will be spilling out everywhere. Clear's rough hand doesn't slow at all.

"Aah—ah!"

My eyes snap open and lock onto Clear's.

He stopped.

Again! Everything! He stopped everything!

He just pulled out his fingers and stopped rubbing against me completely. Now, he suspends himself over my writhing and sweat-coated body, not touching me at all.

My dick still throbs and jerks, but I hadn't cum.

"Clear!" My eyes are wide and my breath is not yet back. I don't wait to regain it. I'm still tingling, and my agitation is not helping.

Twice now, he brought me so close to the edge but stopped just when I was about to lose it. The accuracy of his timing is uncanny, but I'm too frustrated to admire his edging skills.

"Sorry," he mumbles and kisses the side of my mouth. I bite him a little harder than necessary to show my displeasure. "Next time I won't stop."

I bite him again. "You'd better not, or I'll just take care of myself in the bathroom," I mutter angrily. I wrap my arms around his neck and trap him into a long kiss. He starts to giggle but stops after a while.

When his fingers gently touch my stretched hole, I loosen the lock on my elbows and let him lean up.

He looks at me silently for permission. Having come this far, it's a little superfluous to be asking again. But at the same time, it's endearing too.

To answer him, I sit myself up and cover his mouth with mine while reaching out for his stiff cock. I run my fingers on the wet underside of it and pull him forward. My thumb rubs firmly against the top side. The bed creaks softly in complaint as I readjust my hips so my legs can spread apart farther. I lead his erection to my entrance and break the kiss just enough to watch ourselves. I feel Clear tilt his head down as well.

He doesn't push in immediately, but rubs himself around my puckered hole several times. His thumbs smear the wetness around. I breathe in deeply and relax the best that I can. Clear moves forward, and his tip starts to spread me.

"Ah—…" My eyes clench shut and eyebrows furrow as I feel myself open up for him. I hum in slight discomfort when he goes in farther.

Clear stops moving. "Am I hurting you?"

"No…." I swallow and take another deep breath. I experimentally clench and relax around the tip of Clear's erection. "I'm alright."

He places his lips tenderly to my temple. Slowly, he pushes his hips forward. Once he's halfway in, I lie back down. Clear's face is full of concentration. He lets out a short breath and licks his lips as he continues to go into me.

"Ao-ba…" he breaks off halfway to let out a tiny whimper, "san."

Clear is thick and hot inside me. I haven't done this since— But that time was also with him and under much different circumstances. Now, I can feel everything he's giving me. It doesn't hurt, exactly. It just stings. Already, it feels like he's so deep inside me, throbbing and leaking out. It's a strange sensation, this pressure. I swallow again, as if that would help dispel the discomfort.

I wiggle my hips a little and feel him press against me at a different angle. Still, he doesn't move and only braces his hands on my knees. Clear's eyes are closed, and he's breathing slowly.

My cock lies hard and heavy on my stomach. After all the teasing Clear put me through, withstanding penetration hasn't made me soften. Clear leans over me. His arms are shaking a little as he distributes his weight over the length of his arms and his knees.

Several times, we come together for kisses. Then we just stay that way, enjoying each other's presence. I nudge my nose against his playfully, and we both smile. We breathe.

Together, we inhale and exhale, looking at each other. His gaze is soft and sweet. I stroke the side of his face. He moves very slightly in me. To encourage him to stop holding back, I clench myself around his erection several times in succession and let out a breathy moan.

"Aoba-san—!"

I squeeze around him harder. "Clear…."

Taking the hint, he places his hands behind my knees and pushes them toward my chest. My new position lets him go in even more. A whine slips out of me. Clear pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in. My body follows the motion.

It's only one thrust, but a strong tingling wracks my body.

He repeats the motion without stopping. I can feel every inch of him rubbing in me. His cock is long and thick, and it's like he's stretching me to my breaking point. He's so careful in making love to me, it's almost cruel. This kind of gentleness is not enough right now.

"More—"

Clear starts to move faster, his cock plunging into me again and again without stopping. I get wetter inside with each thrust, as Clear leaks more pre-cum into me. Soon, a warm sensation slips out of my hole and down my ass.

My hands are sweaty as they grab his arms. He's overwhelming me again. All I could feel is him. My mind is blank.

Clear's lips are on me, his tongue invading my mouth and his teeth clacking messily with mine. His hand is roughly stroking me against my stomach to add to the intense sensation. I didn't think he could get any bigger, but it seems like he's swelling to fill me to the brim.

His every push elicits a shameful noise from me. Through my hazy pleasure, I can hear him gasping and moaning as well. Clear's thrusting is accompanied by sloppy, wet noises. I grow hot just hearing how lewd we sound.

Even as he shoves himself wildly in me, he still manages to hit my sweet spot every time. White dots scatter across my vision when I close my eyes.

He hits the spot especially hard and makes my entire body jolt. "Aa-aaah! Clear!"

Clear has his teeth clenched as I cry out. His white hair is plastered against his flushed skin. I'm sure I look just as disheveled as he.

"H-Harder—Faster…."

I don't want to hold back anymore. I've been teased and brought to the edge two times too many, and all I want to do is feel him fill me up with his cum and make me lose myself. I've had enough of his tender nibbles and soft touches. Now, I want him to pound into me hard and screw me until I forget how to breathe.

I move my hips to meet his thrusts, and my voice grows louder. I'm dripping everywhere, and I'm so stiff it hurts. I can't remember a time I've been this aroused. The pleasure is unthinkably powerful and only grows as Clear's dick penetrates me over and over again.

"Aoba-san, A—oba-san…." He's moaning my name in my ear between sighs and whimpers. To follow my earlier command, he pushes himself in all the way and grinds his hips against me repeatedly. A loud slapping noise comes from between us.

"It feels—so good," I tell him, clamping down tightly on his erection. He groans at the sensation and roughly pounds into me.

It's all friction and heat and tightness and wetness.

I'm losing myself fast. We're not making love anymore. He's fucking me raw now. There is no tenderness left, only pure passion.

"Haa, haa—A-Aoba-san—" His voice cuts off every time he buries his cock in me. "You're—so tight… and hot. A-Aah! Mmn—"

I can't hold back. I'm drawing breath so quickly I'm practically wheezing. My dick is throbbing hard, and the constant stimulation is not helping. Sharp bursts of pleasure make me twitch and dribble onto his palm and fingers as he stretches my hole apart violently.

We're loud. We're loud, and I don't care. All I care about now is the man above me, making me feel more alive than I had felt in a year.

"Clear, Cl—ear! A-Aah! Make me cum—"

His breathing becomes much more ragged. His thrusting is so powerful that the entire bed is creaking and shaking.

A strong tingling begins to spread from the tip of my cock to the base of my spine and down my legs. I'm quivering and taut. Everything is building up, ready to be released.

Clear shoves himself in me harshly a few more times, and I lose myself in ecstasy.

I cry out a mangled version of his name and shake violently, cum spurting out of my cock and onto my chest and stomach. Halfway through my orgasm, Clear yells my name out messily. Hot streams of cum fill my hole as he continues thrusting through his pleasure. As he continues to fuck me, he pulls out his own cum from my ass and lets it drip down lewdly.

He stops, cock still plunged deep within me.

We gasp hard for air after that. The high is hard to come down from after stimulating each other so much.

That was such a strong orgasm that it feels like he's fucked me dry. I don't know how much cum I let out, but even now, my cock is slowly dripping out.

With the first full breath he's able to collect, Clear murmurs, "Aoba-san…" and kisses me sweetly.

None of our previous franticness can be found here. We touch our tongues together and kiss softly with bruised and reddened lips. His eyelashes flutter against me as he rubs the tip of his nose to mine.

It's hot and sticky. Everything feels wonderful though.

I don't want to let go or be separated from him, even though it's rather uncomfortable being completely covered in sweat and cum.

Clear leans his warm forehead to mine. "I love you, Aoba-san."

A tight knot forms in my throat at those words. I don't even know why. I swallow.

"Mmn. Me too. I love you too." It's only a few words, but my voice splinters anyway. I hold him close to me to get some time to settle my emotions.

That's what I thought, but Clear only makes the situation worse.

"I love you, Aoba-san. I love you, I love you, I love you…." His voice is thin, and he has to stop several times to wet his mouth and start again. "I love everything about Aoba-san…"

And he starts to tell me the things he never had a chance to say to me before.

"Aoba-san was the first one who made me feel accepted, even when everyone else thought I was strange. You took all my questions seriously and did your best to answer them honestly. You taught me so many new things, even if you didn't realize. You never made fun of me or judged me. Aoba-san was the first one besides Grandpa to see my face, but you had already accepted me before that."

Clear's words tumble out of his mouth like flitting butterflies. They are light and endless, and each one shimmers with an ethereal quality. Sometimes they bump into each other clumsily, but that does not detract from their beauty at all.

"You saw all my bad points and didn't care. You trusted me and cared for me, even when I kept making mistakes. When you got angry, it was only out of concern for me. Aoba-san is a really kind and loving person to everyone. You don't notice things right away all the time, but you always do your best to make sure everyone around you is okay, whether you know them well or not. You're selfless and gentle but also very strong.

"Aoba-san…"

Hot tears had started to roll down my cheeks and into Clear's hair long ago when he started speaking, and they aren't stopping now. I try my best to drink in every word Clear says through my hiccups and suppressed sobs, but it's hard. It's hard when everything he says makes my heart swell and twinge. I want to throw up because it's so sweet. My chest hurts.

"Aoba-san was the one who taught me what it means to be a human and proved Toue-san wrong. You showed me that it doesn't matter who made me or what I'm made up of, because that kind of thing doesn't matter at all. Aoba-san was the one who showed me that I can become a human. I am human. Just like Aoba-san."

His warm hand touches the left side of my chest, where my heart pounds against my ribcage. Then he places his other hand on his own chest.

Clear's wet eyes move up to mine. "I'm the same as Aoba-san…."

I nod hard and clench my eyes. "Yes. You're the same as me, Clear. Just the same."

We embrace hard, and I can feel his heart beating against me.

We're the same….

Together, we stay in the same position for a long time. Our bodies cool, and my sobbing turns into sporadic sniffling. After a while, I can't stand it anymore.

"Clear," I start laughingly. My voice is nasally. "I can't breathe."

He laughs as well and kisses me one last time. "I'm going to pull out."

I confirm this with him and feel him moving. It's a little awkward, feeling him slowly come out from me. More wetness drips out. My sheets are a fine mess by now. We both grunt a little as we separate.

Clear moves stiffly and gets off the bed. The loss of warmth is a bit startling. Quickly, he flicks off the light and rummages around the dark. I hear him yank out several tissues from the box on the floor and take the half-drunken glass of water off the table.

"Aoba-san, can you sit?"

I do so with a groan. My legs are sticky, and I don't know what to do with myself. It feels like every time I move, more comes out. A dull pain throbs through me as well. Maybe we went at it a little too roughly. Clear is by my side in an instant, his hand supporting my lower back.

He first hands me some tissues to blow my nose with, and I laugh as I can't even clear my nostrils properly. After I'm done with that, he gently scrubs my face with the still-damp washcloth he retrieved. It's cool and nice against my hot skin, especially after having cried again. It's hard to believe how much I've cried today. I kind of hope Granny won't see me for the next two days, since I'm sure I'll look like someone punched me repeatedly in both eyes when I wake up.

I toss the tissues somewhere on the floor and take the glass that he hands me. This time, I drain the entire thing. My throat feels much better after that.

He settles between my legs. His fingers touch the outside of my thighs lightly, and then something cold and wet wipes up between my legs. I grab ahold of him and let out a startled yell. The coldness goes away immediately.

"Sorry, I thought you knew—" Clear's concerned eyes flash at me in the dark.

A burst of laughter escapes my closed lips, and I cover my mouth with a loose fist. I start laughing in earnest. I really hadn't expected that. The entire situation is so ridiculous.

"Pffthehehe! N-No, it's fine, I just didn't…" I heave out a chortling sigh, "Warn me next time." I laugh warmly through my nose and rub his shoulder with the hand I had clawed him with.

"Okay. I'm going to start again then," he cautions me.

"Mmn."

The wet cloth goes back onto my skin as he wipes up the mess we made. Clear is gentle in cleaning my sensitive skin, and his tenderness fills me with warmth. He takes the washcloth away again.

"We should really properly clean inside too, but…" He dabs the outside of my entrance with clean tissues and prompts me to squeeze. I'm glad for the dark, because this is really embarrassing. I am too tired to deal with this thoroughly right now though.

The sensation is very strange, but it's not too bad. Soon, he's done there and folds the washcloth to wipe my stomach clean. When I start to laugh and shake, Clear applies a bit more pressure to his wiping.

"Thanks. Sorry," I say through a smile. He kisses me softly.

When he finishes cleaning us up, the leans over the side of the bed and places everything on the floor. I lie down tiredly and curl on my side. Clear shuffles back on and squeezes between the wall and me.

My bed is small and cramped. We're a tangle of limbs as we lie together, face-to-face. Our breaths mix as we watch each other quietly. My ankle is somewhere on his calf, and his knee is jammed up between mine. I can't get a smile off my face, and Clear seems to be suffering the same dilemma.

Now that we're both lying still, the air gets a little chilly. It's still hot though, so Clear only kicks up enough of my blanket to cover up to our knees.

I reach out with my hand and touch him on the cheek tenderly. I stroke his face charily and stop when I get to his chin, where his two moles are. Clear blinks and brings my fingertips to his lips. He kisses each one before kissing my palm. Our fingers intertwine and fall between us. I squeeze, and he squeezes back reassuringly.

I open my mouth and, for a second, nothing comes out.

Then I start talking softly.

Just about anything. Everything, really. I tell him about what happened to the island after I escaped with him. I tell him, with a lump in my throat, about how I tried to fix him for a month straight but didn't manage to. I tell him how scared I was. About the sadness and loneliness I suffered through day-in and day-out after he was gone.

I tell him how I thought I would never hear him call my name again.

And work. I tell him about work, and the three brats. I remember he hasn't met them yet and wonder if he will like them. That, too, I ask. He smiles and says he'll see.

I tell him about how Mink disappeared and how Noiz doesn't really show up anymore. I tell him about Koujaku and his ever-shifting harem. I talk about Granny and Haga-san and Yoshie-san and Ren.

And I tell him about myself again.

I don't know what I'm trying to do, just talking like this. Maybe I'm trying to fill in the silence that I've floundered through for a year. I want him to know everything that has transcribed since he had gone to sleep for too long.

Clear only listens, making soft noises at the right times to show he's still paying attention. His eyes are trained on me in intense concentration, as if he doesn't want to miss a single thing I say.

Bit by bit, I feel the gaping hole in my heart fill up again.

I'm tired and sleepy. I don't know what time it is anymore, but it feels late.

Muddy, artificial light is shining dimly through the drawn curtains of the veranda, and my eyes have long since adjusted to the dark. I close my puffy eyes.

"I've missed you, Clear," I tell him finally. "I love you."

He kisses me and leans back.

My consciousness starts to drift, and the last thing I remember before I fall asleep is Clear singing his song for me and holding my hands tightly.

My eyes feel heavy and my ears feel like they've been stuffed with cotton when I wake up. The entire world is muffled for a split second before I fully wake up. I register that it's warm and comfortable, and a little cramped, but I don't understand immediately.

I inhale deeply. When I exhale, the world comes back into focus.

I can hear the din of life outside my closed window, and my eyes flutter open with some effort.

My vision is a little blurry, but I'm soon able to focus on what's before me. Clear's face is close to mine, and his eyes are half-lidded. He blinks slowly at me with a small smile.

My chest is warm, and there's a small pressure on it.

Clear's hand is feeling my heart beat.

His words from a year back return to me. His fears about falling asleep and never waking up. That I would fall asleep and never wake up.

Was he feeling my heartbeat the entire night?

My heart-rate speeds up.

I want to reassure him. I want to reassure myself too, that neither of us will fall asleep and never wake up this time.

I don't know what to say.

… I don't know what to say.

So instead, I just wrap my arms around him tightly.

"Good morning, Clear," I murmur. "Good morning for today, and every day after this as well. Good morning."

Clear's voice catches in his throat, and he buries his face into the curve of my neck and shoulder. I can feel him smiling through tears.

"Aoba-san…. Good morning."