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The Somniel is a wonderful world away from worlds, floating gently in the sky almost as if it’s some makeshift heaven. Leisure at your fingertips, a way to relax and ignore the harsh and unforgiving place below you. One could die here and not know a single hardship, close their eyes and drift off to somewhere else in complete comfort.
Griss felt like he was about to puke. Looking at it all didn’t calm him in the way it would another person, it made him agitated. Made him feel like he was in a children’s book, the veritable assault of color and flowerlike scents making him want to run to the nearest fireplace and throw himself in it. Maybe the pain would make this all a little more bearable.
He’s managed to isolate himself enough that scarcely anyone visits him. He’s not convinced if he put himself smack dab in the middle of this place that they’d move to talk to him anyways. He was an eyesore, and a reminder of their Divine One’s poor judgment in going to such great lengths to spare him. Wasn’t like he disagreed.
Griss sighs, in the midst of playing with a flame in his hand. He contemplates using it to burn himself, just for some excitement. Yet he doesn’t, he suspects that the boring version of Lady Veyle would kick up a fuss otherwise.
“Griss.” A familiar voice comes from behind him, he turns around leisurely and looks them up and down.
“The divine dragon in all his glorious radiance. To what do I owe the visit? Expecting me to kowtow in reverence? You did save my life after all, I should be oh so thankful.” Griss mocks.
Alear shakes his head in response. “Um, no. I’m not exactly expecting you to-”
“Then why are you here?” Griss quirks an eyebrow, the fire in his hand finally dissipating. “Ah, maybe you’ve had a change of heart and are coming to drag me down to your dungeons. Torture me until my dying breath.” That’d be nice actually, if the Divine One knew anything about Griss he’d deny him the pleasure of a slow death.
“That’s…” Alear goes wide eyed at the thought and furiously shakes his head once again. Ugh, Griss feels bile rising to this throat. Disgusting. “I just, I’d like to speak to you. Since you’re now part of our army and all. If we got to know each other it could help on the battlefield.”
“No.”
“No..?”
“You make a compelling proposal. But I don’t want to talk to you, you’re annoying.”
Alear makes an exasperated face, but doesn’t turn to walk away. “Is there a way to change your mind?” He asks.
“That depends. What are you willing to do for me?” Griss grins.
“Just about anything I think. Within reason at least.”
“How persistent. Fine. There’s one thing I really want right now. Pain. The worse the better.”
Alear pauses, and then puts a fist to his mouth in contemplation. Griss almost balks at him, is he seriously considering it? He’d figured being blunt about his wants would scare Alear off.
“While the thought does distress me a bit. I think I can arrange something. How about a spar?”
“...You’re serious? I’m not gonna hold back, you know.”
“That’s fine. I’m the Divine Dragon, I can take it.” He smiles in response, and it’s a soft friendly kind of smile that does nothing to soothe the situation. Knowing the extent of Griss’s cruelty, Alear had to be patently insane to be so casual about this. Was pain just nothing to godlike beings? Griss had always idly wondered whether Sombron ever felt a single thing, would react with any form of emotion if he was completely split open. He feels his blood run hot at the idea of getting a live test subject.
“Alright then. Tomorrow, take me to your desired place and we’ll destroy each other to our hearts content, Oh Divine One.” He ends his sentence mockingly, but Alear puts on a serious face and nods before walking away. From there, the day passes with no more annoying interferences, and Griss falls back into boredom. He expects nothing from this, at best Alear will most certainly forget about him given the gaggle of simpletons demanding his attention. At worst, he’ll have gotten cold feet and will stay away from Griss for the foreseeable future. Both annoying outcomes, someone making him anticipate something that will never come. Mauvier had made a joke about waiting being its own form of pain, back when they were the four hounds. Griss simply replied that he wasn’t that one dimensional.
“Griss.” Alear calls to him as he’s making his way through the plaza. “Could you come here for a second?”
Griss debates saying no, just to be an asshole and make it harder on him. But relents, walking over. “What is it? Finally making good on your offer?”
Alear nods, all serious. “Come with me.” He motions for Griss to follow, and walks off in the direction of the arena.
Griss snorts, no way he was being serious here? Well, even if he didn’t get the all out brawl he was hoping for, knocking the Divine Dragon around a bit and watching him cry was a very tantalizing prospect. So he does follow.
“Originally I was thinking of asking Diamant to allow us to use the official training grounds in Brodia. But I realized I was treating this like a typical sparring match. So certain things would be off limits.” They both step through a door, and Griss finds himself in the arena. Alear turns to him. “You probably wouldn’t open up to me if I didn’t take you seriously.”
Griss blinks. “You’re taking me seriously.” He repeats. “So then where’s your sword?”
“This time, I’ll be using my fists….It’d be easy to kill you too quickly with a sword. And you wouldn’t want that, right?”
“Haha.” Griss shakes his head. “I wouldn’t.” He’s not stupid, this is a half assed excuse by Alear to keep from accidentally killing him. A sword wound in the wrong place and Griss bleeds into the water. Yet he plays along, because he’s gone this far. Fire swirls above him, the tome at his hip’s pages flipping wildly as he extends a hand. Alear readies his stance in response, the fires of a Bolganone spell crashing in on him. Griss’s face is apathetic, he’s not completely sold on this match. No matter what words are said in an attempt to convince him. A big blunder it seems, because his lackadaisical approach keeps him from watching things closely. It isn’t until he’s stumbling, gasping for breath and holding his side that he realizes what’s happened.
“You…” Griss trails off, a wild look in his eyes. Alear had struck him clear in his side, the aching pain a telltale sign of a bruise forming soon. Suddenly there’s a sharp pain in his jaw, a product of a quick punch to it that disorients him.
“Yes…Yes.” Griss hisses in pleasure as red overcomes his vision. It’s not the pain that drives him here, he’d need more than that to find the euphoria he truly craves. But Alear’s serious gaze is enough. It’s as if he’ll kill Griss if the situation demands it, that type of resolution from anyone is enough to drive him into a veritable frenzy. He’s not fully cognizant of what happens after that, he feels jolts of pain bloom in his stomach, his chest, all around his body as he fires off spell after spell with reckless abandon. His mouth tastes of metal, blood welling in it as they fight each other for what feels like ages.
The fight only ends as Griss collapses, knees buckling and body hitting the cool water with a thud. What little strength he has is used to raise his head, to see Alear staggering over to him.
“Open your mouth.” Alear says, pain on the edges of his voice as he kneels down. Griss is about to protest, but he cuts him off swiftly. “It’s just an elixir, enough to make sure you don’t pass out.”
Griss concedes, swallowing with great labor as the elixir is poured down his throat. He feels a warmth spread through his body as Alear sits next to him and drinks his own. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound between each other being their uneven breaths.
Alear is the first to break it. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Mmm.” Griss’s body is aching terribly, yet it feels as if his brain is crackling with electricity. While he loathes to answer meaningless questions he figures he can return the courtesy given to him.
“Why did you let us save you?” Alear asks. Griss grunts in response, annoyed.
“Because Zephia told me to.” He says. Her voice rings clear in Griss’s head, that if the Divine Dragon wished to save him he was to let it happen. Rage grabbed at his throat as he looked at her, prepared to scream at her for her stupidity. But the look she gave him left no room for argument. Griss does not feel grief, or rather. Not how any normal human would these days, but every time Zephia’s words replay in his mind it feels like something heavy creeps into his bones. Settling into every crevice like tar.
“I see…” Alear nods in understanding, but he doesn’t say sorry. Griss thanks the stars Alear has the foresight to see that an apology would just piss him off. “Have you been serving Sombron all your life?” He asks next.
“You should know, considering he’s your father.” Griss replies. Alear goes silent at that, so Griss decides to throw him a bone. “Since I could walk I was raised to be in service to him. I don’t remember what my parents looked like.”
“..Did you enjoy serving him?”
“Yes.” Griss pauses, then really thinks. “No. I liked…I liked being with the hounds more, the orders I was being given could’ve come from anyone.” He says, a frown developing on his face. Abruptly, Griss stands up and staggers toward the door. “I’m going back to my room. You’re killing my buzz.”
“Oh. Alright.” Alear stands with him. “We could make this a regular thing, don’t you think?”
“You’re so intent on sticking to my shoe like a crushed bug, but fine. Next time, I want you to use your sword. Or you’ll get no more answers out of me.”
Alear agrees, and Griss can’t bring himself to be surprised anymore. No matter what type of benevolence Lumera filled him with, there had to be some of Sombron’s influence still kicking around. It was the only piece of rationale for why Alear was so comfortable causing him such pain. They share no more words as they step through the door, going their separate ways.
Their next match is a few weeks later. Alear hadn’t found time to bug Griss as he was swamped with reports of corrupted appearing in various lands. Stragglers that needed to be cleaned up to keep the townspeople safe. Griss never liked these missions, preferring instead to throw himself into the heart of Sombron’s lands. Not only were they unsatisfying, Alear always stayed to chat with the residents. Something he could never do. Even if Griss didn’t find idle conversation with people he’d never see again boring, it’s not like many would wish to speak with him. He always got suspicious, hateful or terrified looks. Rightful, considering his track record but isolating all the same. He was never going to find normalcy even if he seeked it.
“Griss.” Alear’s voice rings out, and Griss turns his head. Snapped out of his thoughts about their previous excursion, he realizes in the here and now he’s once again lying on the water. He’s come down from his initial adrenaline rush, cuts stinging but not as lethal as he’d like due to the aid of a healing staff. “Why do you like pain so much?”
“Cause it feels amazing.” He states bluntly. “All the sensation, the life flashing before your eyes, chemicals rushing to your brain. Only way to chase that high is pain, or an orgasm, but when I wasn’t around corrupted I was around the hounds and Lady Veyle. Only person I’d be remotely interested in is Mauvier, and he treats me more like a meddlesome younger brother.”
“O-Oh.” Alears cheeks tint pink as he shifts uncomfortably. It could be the wounds on him that are slowly healing, but Griss can tell it’s because of the contents of his response. “So if you had other ways to satisfy the uh, feeling. Would you give up on being hurt?”
Griss eyes Alear and sits up. “Why?” He asks. “You offering me a night in your bed oh Divine One?”
Alear sputters, “T-That’s not what I-”
Griss laughs. “Figured. Anyways no. This feeling’s been engraved in me for who knows how long. I don’t think you could train it out of me even if I wanted it to happen. Why are you so interested anyways?”
“It’s just, a little odd. You’re the first person I’ve seen who finds your own suffering pleasurable. When I was under the fell dragon, everything I did was to avoid that outcome. I didn’t want to feel pain, I was hoping he’d be kind to me if I did what he asked.” Alear explains.
“Not everyone is as slow on the uptake as you are. I figured out pretty early what was desired from me, and it was to suffer and inflict it. The more I performed my role, the more I enjoyed it. Pretty simple.” Griss closes his eyes and lies back down. “Now can we stop this conversation? You’re killin’ my buzz again.”
Alear nods, then mimics him, lying down but looking over at Griss instead “What do you do for leisure? I want to do something with you other than this.”
Griss grumbles, but he supposes common courtesy meant that if he was going to force Alear to indulge in his hobbies it was only fair to indulge in the other man’s. At least, Zephia drilled that in him every time he made Marni cry by telling her the things she wanted to do together were fucking stupid. “I guess I like swimming. Elusia feels as if hell has frozen over all the time. So I rarely got to do it there.”
“Ah! Perfect.” Alear exclaims as his eyes brighten. “We have a pool! Would you like it to just be us or…?”
Griss cracks one eye open and stares Alear down. “Who the hell would want to even go swimming with me in the first place?” He asks.
“Well, Veyle has been asking to spend time with you. And Mauvier’s always glued to her so I think he’d come too. I’ll try to keep the entire army from joining, I don’t want you to get annoyed.”
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever, if that boring version of her wants to still spend time with me I guess it’s inevitable. Now stop with the conversation. I wanna bask in the afterglow before I head back.” Griss yawns.
“Alright.” Alear chuckles and lies in silence.
Griss sits in the pool, arms outstretched and elbows settling on the edge of it with his eyes closed. Alear had wandered off wondering what was taking Veyle so long, and secretly Griss was hoping he didn’t come back. There was surprisingly no one poolside, and it brought a wonderful silence with it. It’s not like he had very much to say to Lady Veyle either.
“Griss!” Speak of the devil, Griss opens his eyes and glances to see Veyle running up to him excitedly. Mauvier and Alear are close behind. He can’t comprehend the bounce someone like her has in her step, considering their long list of crimes combined. But he just grunts in response as she sits next to him.
“Lady Veyle, please be a bit more cautious about this. We still don’t fully know his intentions.” Mauvier shakes his head as he finally comes upon them with Alear in tow. “He may still be trying to manipulate us.”
“If Griss were trying to betray us he wouldn’t get very far in this place anyways.” Veyle says, frowning.
“Mmm. i thought you’d understand me a little better Mauvier. I mean, we’re almost like brothers, you of all people should know where my manipulations begin and end.” Griss is nonchalant as he responds. Of all people, of course Mauvier would be the one sane enough to not fully believe he was fighting for this army without an ulterior motive.
“Sibling relationship or not, I can’t pretend to know what you’re always thinking.” Mauvier shrugs, walking over to sit in a nearby chair. Alear looks at them all, attempting to gauge the mood before walking over and sitting on the other side of Griss.
“Sorry it took me so long.” Alear finally speaks up. “I had to turn down a lot of people insisting we have a pool party. It’d uh, probably upset you right Griss?”
“I think I’d throw myself off of this place if you forced me into any kind of party, yes.”
“We just have to get you used to everyone. You and Marni always seemed to get along, didn’t you?” Veyle smiles at him. “It’ll be the same here if you spend enough time.”
Griss chooses not to answer that, and Veyle picks up on his pointed silence and opts to bother Alear instead. Despite his flustered refusal, she manages to talk him into physically getting in the pool with her.
“Cannonball!!” Veyle yells as Alear begins to wade into the water. The ensuing splash hits Griss right in his face and he sputters violently.
“You, you must want to die right now don’t you?” Griss grouches, but he’s only half serious this time. He stalks up to Veyle, and Mauvier and Alear go wide eyed and seem ready to step in before Griss simply splashes her with water. “Good luck fixing your hair, you bastard.”
Veyle laughs, rubbing water out of her eyes as she and Griss get into a match with each other. Somehow they manage to get Alear and Mauvier involved, and by the end of things the four are exiting the pool absolutely drenched from head to toe. Griss searches for a towel left off in a place safe from all the water before beginning to dry himself off. He hears Alear and Veyle a ways away, chattering with each other.
“I didn’t expect that.” Mauvier says, standing beside Griss as he towels himself off as well. “It appears you still have the capacity to have fun.”
“You aren’t funny.” Griss replies. “She wasn’t going to leave me alone if I didn’t go along with her, so I took the path of least resistance.”
“You were laughing.”
“Shut up.”
Mauvier chuckles, and his hand knocks against Griss’s before briefly taking hold. “We are probably going to carry what we did with us for the rest of our lives, and even after that. We may never be redeemed. And our colleagues died being scorned by the world.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that.” The curse rolls off his tongue, and he anticipates a smack that never comes. Zephia had always told him to keep his vulgarity under control unless they were out on the battlefield. Griss’s chest feels heavy.
“Regardless, I see no point in being a recluse. Zephia didn’t order you to join us so you could live out the rest of your life alone. You should open up a bit more Griss, the people here have much more to them than you’d think.” Mauvier squeezes his hand, and then turns to greet Alear and Veyle running up to them.
Griss turns as well, blood rushing to his ears. He’s not young and stupid, but Mauvier isn’t young either. Isn’t guided by wishful thinking, Griss would always proclaim he was no fun, only speaking when needed. Yet when Mauvier dared to give his insight, Griss would listen. Maybe, then, he understood Zephia’s intent much more than Griss ever could.
“Ah, you and Mauvier can leave first Veyle. I have something to talk to Griss about.” Alear says.
“Oh! Alright!” Veyle smiles at Griss and gives him a quick hug. “It was great to finally talk to you again!”
Griss makes a face as he looks down at her. “Yeah yeah. Goodbye, Lady Veyle.”
“Bye!” Veyle waves and scampers off with Mauvier in tow.
As they leave, Griss finally relaxes. Veyle had way too much energy, even in that boring saccharine state of hers.
“I’m glad you humored us, even if all this was annoying.” Alear says.
“It was either this or sit in seclusion, bored. I took the best option for my situation, don’t expect me to do this often though. This crap is exhausting.” Griss sighs, then catches Alear staring at him.
“How did you get your tattoos?” Alear asks, hand reaching out to touch them. Griss grabs it, snapping Alear out of his trance. “Oh s-sorry.” He mutters, cheeks red. “I just saw them fully while we were in the pool and got curious.”
Griss’s face is impassive as he moves Alear’s hand to touch the two around his abdomen. “This one was to commemorate my service to Sombron.” Zephia had given him candy afterward for putting on a brave face.
“Wow, that-” Alear sputters, cut off by Griss moving the hand higher. Alear watches it graze Griss’s chest, before settling on his shoulder.
“This is for how well I did in my first battle.” Griss says, Alear hums in acknowledgment. Griss moves Alear’s hand further up, settling it on his cheek. “The ones on my back aren’t worth talking about, but this one. Right on my face, my greatest shame and greatest pleasure.”
“Was this one given to punish you?”
“Yup. I had to be taught there was a penalty for failure, it was pretty bad. As I grew up I chased pain just like it and nothing ever felt the same.”
Alear’s thumb runs over part of the tattoo, right under Griss’s eye. “If I was there…” He trails off.
“You wouldn’t be able to do a thing. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Griss puts Alear’s hand to his mouth and kisses it before letting it go. “And there’s my compensation for you feeling me up.”
Alear looks away out of embarrassment, mouth opening and closing before settling on what he wants to say. “I need to change…See you later.” He waves weakly before scurrying off.
Griss hums, he’s not a particularly romantic person, but he’s also not stupid enough to ignore the signs. He thinks back, and wonders if anyone in Elusia ever had a crush on him. Perhaps he simply ignored them, or maybe it was just too warped to consider a crush in the first place. Then again, something would have to be wrong with anybody that considered him a romantic prospect in the first place. Which made what he witnessed over the last while all the more baffling. He shakes his head, anymore thoughts about this when potentially nothing would come of it was useless. It gives him an unpleasant pit in his stomach, so he decides to head back to his room and wait. Another day, another week, another month, for as long as the Divine Dragon couldn’t comprehend his own feelings Griss would ignore them.
Griss’s reclusive days slowly come to an end as he seems to get an endless flood of people bothering him. He wasn’t going to commit to going out of his way to speak to people, unless it was required to obtain something. But he at least responded when approached, finding the little idiosyncrasies of the Somniel’s residents rather entertaining. It almost made his preoccupations with pain seem normal in comparison. As a result of this new change in philosophy, his arena sessions and subsequent conversations with Alear decreased. The few times Griss caught Alear attempting to approach him out of the corner of his eye the dragon would find him talking to someone else and evidently decide against it.
Perhaps in compensation, his deployment in battles increased. There was a real insistence in him cleaning up the remnants of the corrupted in places like Firene, Brodia, even Elusia. Excuses were used that Griss was someone who understood these walking corpses enough to properly help wipe them out, and for how flimsy the reasoning was he didn’t argue with it. Seeing a revered deity move through the battlefield with no mercy was a unique kind of satisfaction he didn’t want to miss. It was unfortunate that their opponents weren’t human, the distorted and garbled cries they made as they were cut down were far too underwhelming. Griss squats over a corrupted that fades away after being burned by bolganone’s flames and puts his hand on the cheek. The sounds of celebration around him must mean this was the last one, their job is done. Yet he feels an odd sense of foreboding, like there’s magic still in the air that isn’t his or an ally’s.
“Griss!” Alear calls out, jogging over to him. “You did a great job. I think this is the last of the corrupted we’ll see in Firene. The villagers can finally breathe easy.”
“Mmm.” Griss grunts, acknowledging Alear and standing up to walk past him. “Something’s bothering me.”
“Oh. Uh, are you tired? Sorry, I’ve been taking you out on so many battles lately I hadn’t been thinking whether you need rest.”
“Not that.” Griss frowns, his ears picking up the crackle of electricity. He turns to the source of the noise. “It’s thoron.”
“Thoron? Griss what are you-”
Alear is cut off by Griss shoving him several feet away as a beam of electricity races towards them. His face contorting in horror is the last thing Griss sees before his vision goes white. The pain is overwhelming, overriding his senses so much that he can barely even think. His body twitches and spasms uncontrollably as he falls to the grassy ground. This is horrible. This is the best thing he’s ever experienced. Pain and pleasure coalesce in Griss’s body before he finally passes out.
He’s almost sure he's dead. There’s a floating feeling, a sense of comfort he’s never felt in all his life. Yet he does not hear Marni in all her childishness asking what took him so long to get here, nor does he hear Zephia scolding him for not keeping his promise of staying alive. Instead when he opens his eyes he sees white curtains and the dawn breaking outside of them. Griss blinks, feeling weighed down by something. He turns to see the Divine Dragon clinging to him like a child who’s in danger of losing their favorite toy. This is the only time Griss has gotten a look at Alear’s sleeping face, eyes closed tight and small shallow breaths showing his vulnerability. His laughter is quiet, but it soon rises to a crescendo as he turns back to stare at the ceiling. Somewhere during that laughter Alear startles awake.
“Who.” Alear looks down to see Griss’s hands covering his own face as he continues to laugh. “Griss! You’re alive!” Alear yells.
Griss can’t even bring himself to respond, his laughter quieting down as he feels the dragon’s arms wrap around him.
“Y-you were out for days. Nobody knew when you were going to wake up so I took you here. I-” Alear’s voice breaks, a torrent of tears falling from his eyes as he buries his face in Griss’s bare chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He sobs.
“I pushed you, and it wasn’t because I had a death wish. It wasn’t because I was excited at the prospect of receiving such earth shattering pain. All I thought was that you were in danger.” Griss rambles. “The brush with death was just a bonus. Just a bonus when before it was half of my reason for living. Do you know what you’ve done to me? Do you have an inkling of a clue?”
“I didn’t mean to- I should’ve kept a better lookout. Instead of rushing to you like some lovestruck boy.” Alear hiccups. “I was so sure you died.”
“And yet I didn’t…Alear. Look at me.” Griss commands, and Alear raises his head quickly in surprise. He’d never heard his name from Griss’s mouth, and he’s more surprised when Griss surges upward and kisses him.
“Griss? Why did you…?” Alear looks at him wide eyed as Griss pulls away then quickly scrambles off the bed. “I don’t want to take advantage, you just got out of a coma so. You can’t be in your right mind right now.”
“Idiot.” Griss’s mind is clearer than ever, there’s a pleasant ache in his muscles as he fully sits up, legs swinging over the side of the bed and feet touching the floor. “I know what I’m doing. Do you think that was my first near death experience?”
“...I suppose you’re right but…Then that means.” Alear’s cheeks are tinted red, and soon the blush spreads to the rest of his face. “Do you, love me?”
“Love you..” The phrase is heavy on Griss’s tongue, he’d always thought himself incapable of it. The normal sort of love that you read in novels, where a maiden was giddy and nervous. He still doesn’t believe himself capable, but the feeling bubbling in his chest must be something similar. It feels ugly and unfamiliar, not anything like the warmth that one would expect, and yet. Why else would he have saved his former enemy from that blast of magic? “I want you…I need you to be mine.”
Alear goes quiet, gazing into Griss’s eyes for an untold amount of time. He turns, walking over to a dresser and opening the drawer to rifle in it. Eventually he takes out a box, and presents it to Griss. “Please take this” Alear whispers.
It’s obvious what it is, so Griss isn’t surprised when he opens it and sees a ring inside. He takes it out, holding it up to the light peeking in to get a better look.
“This was my mother, Lumera’s ring. It was told to me that if I trusted someone and had a strong bond with them I should give this to them. Even if this turns out to be a mistake I think. I think I want you to have it.” Alear explains. “I thought of you as nothing but another enemy that needed to be cut down before you joined us. Then we spoke, and sparred…” He trails off and hopes that his gaze can convey the rest.
“You developed a crush on me did you?” How absurd, Griss thinks as he grins. “Giving this to me means you must understand what’ll happen next right? If news of this breaks out it could be unfavorable. People may lose faith in you for proposing to a sadistic killer Divine One.”
“Not everyone can be redeemed, but everyone should right their wrongs. It may be too late for you to fully make up for your crimes, but please pay for them until we die beside each other.” Alear says. Such a disgustingly noble and wise thing to say. Griss laughs in response, slipping the ring onto his own finger.
“Aren’t you a romantic?” Griss beckons Alear over, pulling him onto the bed by his waist and maneuvering himself ontop. “I want your joy, your despair, your rage, your fear. I want all of you, Alear, every last bit.” Griss’s hand slides up Alear’s shirt, featherlight, a warning. “So if you’ll allow me, please let me devour you.”
It almost feels as if Alear’s breathing has stopped as he looks up at Griss. So easy to read, emotions always on his sleeve. “Yes. P-Please go ahead.” He stutters out. “I can- I can take whatever you give me so please don’t hold back.”
Griss hums, the feeling in his chest is spreading to the rest of his limbs. It’s exciting, and the warmth they both feel as skin touches skin is even more so. He could bask in this feeling for eternity, listen to these sounds on repeat for the rest of his life and even after that.
Alear is his, all his. Perhaps Griss can’t feel the same pure love one would read in novels, but this is close enough. More than close enough.