The long night didn't extend me sleep, though it wasn't like I wasn't expecting it. The unexpected part was when I'd just thought I would come to terms with all going on something I'd been missing hit me like a ton of bricks. Not just what I missed - also the fact I missed it in the first place - left me shell-shocked.

He hadn't lost color.

Lear hadn't lost color even when I'd observed him like I'd been counting the infinite stars shining in the night sky. His silver eyes had never lost brightness. His lips had never stopped being the most juicy and tasty-looking in the world. Not an ounce of beauty had left him.

And when I stilled my steps down the stairs in the sticky hot temperature of morning, I hadn't had a doubt left in me. The subject of interest was dazedly having his morning coffee in the same place he ate the pancakes I made yesterday, and where he surrendered to me for the shortest but most valuable of time. I could tell he had a similar experience in the sleep department but since my standing only let me a vague view of above the shoulders I couldn't be too sure. The moisture slowly blurring my gaze didn't help the assessment.

Fear. Relief. Attraction. Disbelief. Everything came at once, overwhelming me to the point I had to grip the railing over where my hip touched. I didn't cry but I suspected it was because the outer man was as lost as the inside.

I hung there dealing with all the rumpus in me. Although, it didn't last long. Simply because the culprit of everything going on rised from where he'd been sitting.

He was fucking naked.

Okay, not exactly since he had an underwear down.

Just like that, every single emotion I'd been dealing with got pushed away - by none other than sexual appetite.

"M-mine." I let out stupidly, pointing his way from where I'd climbed down in the bottom of stairs.

He quickly hid his nipples with both hands and turned away from me slightly, faking shyness with an unhidden- yet scarce- smirk. "You let me stay at your house for a day and already declaring ownership?"

"Not that." My freaking brain wasn't sharp enough to comprehend his joke at the time causing me to say, "The trunk. I was sure I had two more. You had them on you all this time?"

I stole a glance and was shocked how it even stayed affixed to his waist when my size was obviously too big for him. The picture had me wondering if it would be too big for him.

"So when are we doing it?" Lear asked and it occurred to me I'd not been listening to him.

"What?" I asked, awestricken.

"I need it." Lear said suggestively, torturing my virgin ass. Either he had enough fun or the silence was too long, he gave up and said, "Breakfast. I'm starving, aren't you?"

"U-uhm yeah." I managed a clumsy response. "I keep a couple of bagels in freezer. I'll just reheat them."

I didn't hear what was his response or if there was even one in the first place as I bolted across the opposite side of where Lear stood and yanked open the freezer, sticking my head in and go through the frozen food in hopes Lear would just go put on something so I could finally take a breath and calm the arousal down. Or at least try a bit.

THANKFULLY he did put on something and had been laying down on the couch after what should be around ten minutes but felt like a decade. Are you sure you're thankful?

I shushed the voice inside my head and my arousal almost-almost- went down when I nearly had a burn on my index and thumb handling the slice toaster roughlier than I probably should've. God knows how I managed that. God knows how I managed to keep causing comic mishaps after that.

"You okay there?" Lear asked nonchalantly because his mouthwatering physical wasn't the very cause of my sloppiness. Because the thought of tasting his tantalizing skin, biting his jocularly hidden nipples, testing the sturdiness of the kitchen table with his body after stuffing his mouth for so long it would be too numb to articulate a protest wasn't driving me insane.

"Yeah. Totally. Never been better." I chirped, trying hard not to burn myself pouring the boiled water over two earl grey tea bags in my cup. While I was steeping the tea for around three minutes, I'd asked Lear his preference in a morning drink and his answer was predictably-he'd literally had a cup like an half hour ago- coffee. Thus he was consuming the food eagerly while I was sipping tea and taking a nibble of bagel from time to time.

"You gonna stop faking sophistication anytime soon?" Lear asked, nearly disgusted by the way the erect pinky was directed his way.

"What faking are you talking about?" I dramatically put on a facade of being offended. "I'm always like this-sophisticated and elegant to the core."

"No, you're not. You always end up choking on the mouthfuls you forget to chew. All because you fill your mouth until you look like a monkey stuffed its face with cymbal." I saw color draining from his face after his own words, but for the first time I was certain it wasn't caused by the usual phenomenon.

"How do you know that?" I said, raising an eyebrow. I sure as hell hadn't done anything close to that since he'd started staying here, including the two days I was unaware of it.

"I-" He began but didn't form an actual sentence until he straightened his spine and cleared his throat first. "I don't know. I just felt like you would do that. It's written in your face."

"Huh?" I grimaced at the foolish reasoning but it didn't last long because Lear cupped my face in his hand gently and I just let him, be the reason shock or comfort. Or both. It took everything in me to not rub onto his hand and forget why I should be questioning him, not enjoying the softness of his touch. The things he did to me with such ease were frightening. How out of control I felt.

Our eyes met at last and the frozen time flowed again. He went brushing a finger over my lips, his gaze trailing his motions subtly. I noticed a hoarse inarticulate sound leaving his mouth but it wasn't blatant.

It wasn't until he broke the silence and pulled his hand I was able to stop the needy tremble of my lips.

"It's written there." He smiled smugly.

You could hear a pin drop after that. He played me and was going to, most likely, pull off the feat again. It annoyed the crap out of me, so I was going to gladly go along with it.

God. You're too gone.

"I need to ask you something." Actually a lot but I don't wish to scare him away do I?

"Yes." He appeared readier than I'd figured, though there was still uncertainty in his voice. "Go ahead."

"Why can't I stare at the lake?" Not an easy one but it should be better that it's not just about him. "Why did you warn me against it?"

He heaved a sigh and relaxed a bit. So it was worse he expected. "Simply put, you ain't getting away with just losing consciousness next time."

I gulped at his words.

"What do you mean?"

"Just don't go near it." He shrugged abruptly.

"Lear!" A feeling of urgency got the better of me and I raised my voice without being able to suppress it. "Please," I continued softly this time. "It was also my father's words. I think he warned me about the lake just like you. I lost him when I was terribly young and I need to know anything about it, anything about him. Please."

My earnest words must've had changed something because his eyes immediately widened at the mention of my dad and he said -his voice awry-, "Your dad? He... he was here?"

"Yeah...?" I said, lost over his state. "Did you know dad?"

"Oh my god." Lear closed his eyes and slapped his mouth, painfully trying and failing to hold back tears. Although they were muffled, I was certain I heard dad's name out his mouth a few times. Miss you Alekos. Miss you so much.

I remained speechless for a while and could only generate a hand on his shoulder as a course of action.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently when his sobs calmed down considerably.

"I'm sorry. I'll tell you about the lake." He said, wiping his tears. His reaction to my dad's mention was too much to brush off but I would take anything at this point.

Anything about the peculiarity of the lake - or maybe even the world as a whole. Anything about dad. Anything about this boy who was and would keep changing my life.

I settled back into my seat and waited for Lear. His gaze turned from his clasped fingers to momentarily ceiling to my way. The solemn expression spreading over his face was inscrutable yet had a strange intensity in it.

"I almost lost everything once." He started. He opened and closed his mouth a few times after that, clearly hesitant but still continued. "I was weak and pathetic. Not only did I ruin everything for myself, I ruined the people who were everything to me. I ruined their peaceful lives."

"Almost? You said almost. Does that mean you were able to fix things later?"

He shook his head weakly and blinked slowly. "I could only save him. He and I'd gotten only each other left. We tried to get accustomed to the new life with only each other. He was trying to be positive and suggested we just live like that. But I couldn't accept that. I loved him more than anything else and I couldn't forgive myself for ruining his life. I thought I could maybe find a way to fix things, even a bit would've helped me take a less painful breath. But..."

"You lost him to the lake?" I suggested what could be the only way his story was related to the lake. I was the one to give voice to the words but it was just...hard to believe. Hard to consume.

He struggled with the response. It wasn't hard to notice tears threatening his eyes again and as a result he just settled with a simple yet heart-rending nod.

"I'm sorry." I said and we weren't looking at each other anymore. At least I wasn't. Accepting the lake had such a sinister power was one thing but watching Lear suffer was pure torture.

If it hurted this much watching, just what kind of a hell must this guy be in right now?

The thought pushed me to move and take Lear into my arms. Perhaps a bit too forceful- no, just right.

Lear was startled to be dragged to his feet suddenly but didn't try to get away. Contrarily he wrapped his arms around me.

God, how could he smell so good? He'd been using the same shampoo as me. How nonsensical it was that Lear's unique fragrance outpowered everything else? The more I inhaled him the more it affected me: penetrating my senses, coursing through everywhere and finally extricating its tail on my dick.

I shifted my hips slightly and struggled with keeping it clear from THE vulnerability in front of me. He, on the other hand, overrode my efforts by doing exactly what I feared. Clinging onto me tighter, our dicks bracketing. A surge of self-consciousness and shame went through me but it didn't matter for long. Because it was well shut down by something substantial and rigid, yet just of the perfect softness.

Lear's hard-on.

"Shall we move on to couch?" I asked absently before finding myself 'accidentally' rubbing erection to erection. He nodded shortly against my chest but didn't move otherwise.

"We need to walk then." I said, each word delaying the next one further.

Lear released the arms from where he was hanging on to me in my back. It didn't necessarily mean he was releasing me though, so it appeared. He grasped my nape with both hands and let go of his weight, so I would have to face a -not necessarily undelightful- dilemma of either going down with him or carrying him in my arms.

I chose the latter and relished in how his legs locked on the small of my back was tight and trusting throughout the brief travel to the couch. I unfolded my arms and attempted to gently drop Lear onto the couch laying. Lear, then again, didn't cooperate and pulled me to lay on top of him. I was able to provide nothing more than a space for breathing when I supported myself with arms on either sides of his head.

Lear restrained me with the look in his eyes. I couldn't pinpoint what gave his gaze the power but it was just easily capable of that. He chose that exact moment to peck me lightly on lips-not lingering long enough for me to study his taste but enough for a magnetizing glimpse- and lay his head back hesitantly. The short contact was drizzle to my drought, elixir of life to the creaky bones and the color I longed for my entire life.

"Please," Lear cried.

"I can't." Oh how I wanted. "You're not in your right mind. I'm not taking advantage of you."

"You won't be. I promise." He went on feeling up my face reservedly, stroked cheeks with his thumbs, nudging ears with forefingers. "I don't want to feel anything."

The last stage of safety guard broke inside me and I released myself. On Lear's lips. Christ on a cracker. He was asking me to ease the pain of losing his lover and I was willingly doing it.

The kiss was supposed to kick off slowly but it was nearly impossible to not deepen it when Lear was so damn responsive. He moaned into my mouth whenever the slightest of air dared bore between us and I swallowed all the sounds escaping him.

We had to part for air after nearly choking on saliva and a bashful smile graced Lear's well-kissed-swollen-lips.

"Fuck, you're too hot." I murmured under my breath and pulled off his tee, throwing it wherever. Pants and trunks followed suit and I got a load of the naked perfection before setting my painful dick free. Lear groaned under me, his eyes locked on me expectantly and I had to remind myself that it was about Lear before losing control.

I kissed him on mouth but didn't deepen it this time. Instead, I trailed his body down with my lips, torturously slow but not without fervor behind. He let out a whimper at every stop -- jaw, adam's apple, nipples(one pinched between fingers while the other bitten), happy trail. He cried out a grumpy cry and writhed when I skipped his cock, moist from pre-cum leakage, and ran my tongue down his inner thighs instead.

I was an alien to sex in general, let alone sex with someone as wholesome as Lear, yet swaying above his body felt like nothing new. I knew his body, he knew my touches and we knew the depth of each other's desire.

I was intelligibly aware prolonging the foreplay (easing Lear's pain for longer) would've been better but my throbbing erection didn't agree and it was messing with my senses. I lifted Lear's legs up so his hole would be exposed and was met with a plea from him.

"Want your dick." His hole twitched subsequently to his words.

"I need to prepare you first."

"No." He said shortly and I threw him a questioning look when he didn't elaborate.

"I don't want to hurt you, Lear." I kissed his forehead and he averted his gaze from me shyly before he held his hand to his lips, index and middle finger adjoined, others closed.

"I'm prepared." He said and my dick danced at the mental image of Lear fingering himself.

"Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"

Lear nodded eagerly and I didn't wait a second longer to lead my cock to his slick entrance, slowly pushing the head in. He bit his lip in pain as he struggled with the resistance at first contact. I debated on whether to tell him to relax and breath steadily with the nonexistent experience I had but did it anyways. By the time my balls touched his sensitive skin, the signs of pain was being washed away from his face, replaced by relief and something almost like pleasure. Almost, because I knew he felt actual pleasure only when I started moving inside him steadily.

"So tight." I murmured as I thought he couldn't possibly get tighter. But fucking fuck, he did just that and I couldn't keep myself from picking up on speed. His intensifying moans did nothing to help my lessening restraint ability. Lear shut his eyes close and cursed between his loud cries. I was fucking into him ruthlessly when he first cried my name and I felt something swelling in my heart. The reason -purpose- I was fucking Lear's brains out in the first place slipped my mind conveniently at that point.

My balls drew up tight against my possessed body and I wrapped my fingers around Lear's hard penis. Only then Lear tore his eyes open and we looked into each other's bliss through our eyes. I fisted his dick with one hand, matching to the thrusts of my hips and slid the other one's index on his slit, collecting pre-cum on it. Lear shuddered uncontrollably under me when I sucked onto the finger and his cum was everywhere on his chest. I, too, couldn't resist my own orgasm any longer and came explosively while Lear was still shivering slightly.

I dropped my weight on Lear, beat-up and reluctant to pull myself out of him. Our breaths slowly evened out and it was silent. Too silent for my liking.

"Are you sleeping?" Lear finally asked.


He smiled -that I knew without looking- and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"I'm kinda rubbing off on you, huh?" I whisper-ishly returned. "I'm listening."

"Where is the farthest place you've ever been to? Have you ever left the village?"

"No, I've never left the village. The farthest I'd gone would be where you found me, the mini-bridge." I'd never been agog about the outside world - outside of this small village enough to travel away. "For real, now you got me wondering why I didn't do it till now."

"So you don't know where the lake ends?"

I felt my body stiffening at the mention of the lake.

"Is there something about it? Something I should know?"

"Nah, just curious." Lear said with a strange-exaggerated casualness. I was about to call him out on it when he beat me to speak.

"Wanna suck you off."

I held my breath at that and felt my dick stirring against his taint. It didn't take more than those four words to get me worked up and in no time I was fucking Lear's mouth -or rather he was fucking my cock with his mouth- on my bed.

Following the mind-blowing orgasm it resulted in, I whacked him off (despite my intention of a head, our mouths couldn't be apart long enough for that) and we both laid on the bed, relieved.

I couldn't find the strength to check whether Lear was sleeping, especially when his head rested on my chest and didn't show a sign of movement from there on.

Everything about the boy was confusing the hell out of me. Either he suddenly became super skillful at hiding his sadness after his break down or what we did actually eased his pain to the point he was feeling nearly none of it. Sex, comparatively, made sense but his countless display of affections? It didn't seem like that of a devastated-over-lover's-loss guy behaviour.

But it just didn't make sense to think he was lying about the story, either. There was something weird about him I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Perhaps, I should've pondered more about it but the exhaustion emerged victorious, and I slumbered atypically in peace.

Pub: 07 Jan 2021 11:37 UTC
Views: 172