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The sky was gray, and the spring water was unstable.
Between heaven and earth there was no conflict, only a subtle and constant tension, like a breath that never ends. Nagi stayed at that limit, not belonging, suspended on the edge of everything. Nagi does not suffer —pain requires attachment—, but neither does he live; living implies surrendering to disorder, letting yourself be dragged, allowing others to disturb his balance.
Until then, nothing had been worth enough.
From that distance, he watched the water tremble..
It wasn't the first time he had descended enough to observe the spring up close. It wasn't the first time the water stirred without apparent reason either. Still, that afternoon he did not leave.
Nagi belongs to a divine race called Daemon. The work of the daemons is to be a mediator between mortals and immortals, a guide in life for those who were in moments of doubt and in death being a conduit to lead them to Hades. What differentiates the appearance of the Daemons from humans are their horns and wings that they usually hide when descending into the human world.
The gray sky remained, the wind blew with the same force; nothing seemed different, and yet the tremor persisted in the crystal-clear water of the spring.
Nagi, yielding to his curiosity with laziness, leaned forward.
Then
he saw him.
Beneath his reflection, a dark figure could be seen in the background.
Nagi hunched a little more, enough to barely distinguish what lay beneath his reflection.
“A nayáde…?”, thought Nagi.
The sea creature did not seem aware of being watched, it had long dark hair with bright blue reflections that crossed the surface, but the movement of the water distorted its shape and to Nagi it became difficult to accurately identify whether it was a nayáde.
The daemon's curiosity led him to approach a little closer, causing a slight disturbance in the water, just enough for the unidentified being to quickly retreat —like a fish fleeing from its predator—.
Nagi's eyes, always filled with perpetual laziness, opened barely. Quickly returning to his monotone state, although the gesture had been unintentionally to frighten it, I can't help but feel a slight disappointment.
He sighed barely as he carried his body away from the water.
It was the first time he managed to glimpse the being that inhabited that part of the spring.
Nagi knew that every body of water —springs, rivers, lagoons, seas, etc.— was claimed by aquatic spirits. The nayádes, a species of nymphs who are born and die with the current that sustains them: free spirits that represent seduction and the connection with nature, blessed with eternal youth.
However, in that spring, up to that moment, he had only seen water.
After his failed attempt to distinguish the marine creature, he lay down at a prudent distance from the water.
He was not attracted by the idea of being dragged by the water; it was a situation that required unnecessary effort, something that could be avoided. Besides, the place was too quiet to leave and waste the opportunity to sleep calmly.
The surface had regained its calm, although the tremor did not disappear from the everything. Nagi rested his head on his arm, closed his eyes, losing interest and yielding to his incessant laziness.
And then, the water trembled again.
From the depths, the figure rose slowly, this time without fleeing. The dark mane floated around its face like a living shadow, and the reflections just as blue as its eyes seemed to catch the little light that the sky granted.
The bright eyes settled on the sleeping daemon. The surprise was evident in them, but it did not retreat; there was no fear, only curiosity.
The spring stirred subtly as if the water shared the unease of the nayáde.
Giving in to instinct, he moved close enough to observe Nagi in detail. The breathing of the unconscious body was slow, almost lazy, it even seemed that breathing was a nuisance to the creature.
That amused him.
The daemon's skin was pale and luminous, it felt like an illusion that the clarity of the spring reflected on it even without touching it. His hair, as white as his lashes, some strands falling softly over his forehead, his body he rested lopsidedly on the warm rock. His lips, slightly pink, were the only warm tint amid the pallor that prevailed.
There was no tension in his posture.
There was no threat in his rest.
And yet, he was imposing.
His broad shoulders seemed to bear more than the silence allowed to guess; his body, sprawled carelessly, occupied the edge of the spring as if he belonged there.
“He is big,” thought Isagi.
Big not only in size but in presence.
And that stillness —that absolute calm with which he slept— seemed to him inexplicably attractive.
It was not the first time Isagi had seen him near the spring, but the first time he looked at him so closely. He had never dared out of fear of how he might react to his presence, he did not think the daemon would be violent —most of the time he found him asleep or simply contemplating the landscape—, the fear that took root inside Isagi was that upon learning of his existence, the daemon would find something unworthy of being seen. Not because of his appearance, but because of the stories told about his own people.
However Isagi came up with an idea; if the daemon, knowing of his presence when seeing him, did not leave and stayed to sleep there, he could gift him a flower as an apology for having fled.
He sank again under the water.
Isagi had always felt a strange devotion to flowers and the meanings they possessed.
He was fascinated that something so fragile could say so much without words or sounds. That each color, each shape, and each season hid a different message, as if nature had created a secret language for those who stopped to observe and were curious enough to seek meaning.
It wasn’t only their beauty that trapped him, but the intention behind them: a flower never grew by itself. It chose the moment, the soil, the proper light.
It resisted. It survived.
Something so small and beautiful… capable of conveying apologies, promises, or even feelings that had not been allowed to live for Isagi.
Upon finding the indicated flower, he returned to the edge of the spring where the still-sleeping daemon was located.
His heart beat in his ears as he crossed the edge of the spring —it wasn’t a sensation he was used to—. The water barely stirred beneath him. The daemon did not open its eyes, but its breathing barely changed.
The choice of Isagi was a blue water-lily, symbol of purity, enlightenment and rebirth.
Isagi left the blue water-lily close enough to his hand, but not daring to touch it, so that when the daemon awakens it would be able to notice it.
Isagi stepped back, keeping to the edge, holding his breath.
If the daemon chose to ignore the water-lily upon awakening, he would understand.
Even so, for the first time, he did not run away, feeling drawn to the appearance of the daemon.
The silence was not uncomfortable. As if the spring itself held its breath beside him
Isagi watches how the light slides through the daemon's white hair; the wind barely moves a few strands across his forehead. He wants to admire the creature for as long as he is granted. Isagi is a being who lives with intensity: he tends to analyze and then act, but there are moments like this when he lets his instincts take over.
Isagi took a deep breath and, carefully, ran his fingers through Nagi's white hair. It was. soft, more than he expected.
He didn't know if the daemon would permit it, but Nagi did not move away. He only let him approach, still, as if he too wanted to feel it in his unconscious state.
The mere touch made Isagi halt for a moment, enjoying the closeness without thinking too much, simply letting his body guide him.
Isagi stayed there for another moment, gazing at Nagi, before gently retreating back to his comfort at the bottom of the spring with a new sensation that he hoped to be named.
Days later Nagi for the first time truly felt disappointed with himself, his efforts to keep the blue water lily alive failed completely. On the second day after finding it, if he watched it closely, it seemed to him, he could see the petals drying, and by the third around midnight it was already completely withered except for the leaves.
—I really wanted you to live. —Sigh, his frustration remained.
On the fourth day Nagi returned to the spring with the water lily in his hands.
He sat near the edge and carefully set the water lily on the surface, wondering if it would perhaps make sense to try to see the creature again. After all, if it truly was a nayáde, it would not have gone far; and it's not that he had unshakable patience, but he did have expert laziness to evade his work. So waiting to see the longed-for creature was better than going from one side to another fulfilling his duty.
Then, a slight movement caught his attention: something in the water's reflection that hadn't been there before. Nagi leaned a bit, holding his breath, his eyes met a figure watching him from the opposite edge.
His heart skipped a beat. It wasn't fear. It was curiosity, and something more that he couldn't name.
The creature in the water approached slowly, keeping a considerable distance. Its eyes and part of its face were the only things that stood out from the water; not it was an act of alertness, not timidity. Nagi noticed it: his eyes, previously lazy, now were slightly more open.
—You… are you the one who left the flower?
Isagi, from the water, nodded slightly and then lowered his gaze from the pale face to the withered blue water lily. A slight sadness appeared in his eyes, and Nagi felt pity, causing his body to lean back and his hand to place itself behind the nape.
—I'm sorry… I tried to keep it alive, but where I live there is no spring like yours and the sunlight does not reach.
Isagi moved close enough to the edge to take the water lily between his hands and return it to the water. Cautiously, he laid his arms on the edge and rested his cheek on them, leaving visible one of his bare shoulders and a lock of his dark hair falling over the damp skin.
—It's okay, I suspected as much. Despite your appearance, I can see that you are not completely of the human realm.
Now, Isagi's face was fully visible. The light revealed barely perceptible nuances under his skin: a bluish tint that seemed to be born from within, as if the spring's current also flowed through his veins. On the sides of his neck, delicate gills opened and closed with a soft, almost imperceptible rhythm, accompanying his breathing. They were not grotesque, but fine nacreous slits that glowed faintly when the light touched them.
His ears, slightly longer and more stylized than human ones, curved with natural elegance, as if molded by the very water. Overall, his appearance was not strange but harmonious: a perfect balance between the human and the ethereal.
The supernatural beauty of the aquatic creature awakened in Nagi the desire to observe in detail. And if anyone asked him what was the most part fascinating, he wouldn't know what to answer; everything in him demanded his attention.
—I am a daemon. I hide my horns and wings when I come to the human plane. It’s more comfortable because... they are heavy.
The comment made Isagi release a melodic laugh and hum. —Let's say I’ve seen you hanging around at my spring a couple of times, and you always look without energy and lazy.
—Your spring… then I confirm my suspicions that you are a nayãde.
“And I suppose the melody in his voice is part of his charm as a nayáde,” he thought Nagi.
Isagi barely nodded. —Yes… although many have the idea that nayáde are all female, I am the exception.
Nagi nodded and leaned forward, watching him closely. Isagi before the action I can't help but feel inhibited.
Nagi tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow. —You're naked —it was more of a statement than a question. He had read some data about nayáde, but he never mentioned anything about his clothing.
His words surprised Isagi who laughed again. —Yes, it is common in our race. Also, why would I cover myself in my own home?
—You're right —Nagi nodded, reiterating his approval. —Earlier you said that you had seen me, and last time you ran away, why?
—Well... I'm not a common naiad and since we have a bad reputation with those who invade our marine territory, I thought that if I showed myself you wouldn't come back — Isagi tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear — and you're the only creature different from my sisters who has come close... except for the little animals that drink.
—It must be boring to be alone all the time... although I like my solitude, I can play video games all the time.
—Video games? —Now it was Isagi who was curious.
Nagi hummed. —It's easier to show you than to explain, so next time I'll bring one.
"Next time," those words echoed in Isagi's head like a bell and something inside his stomach jumped with happiness.
—I'd love that. Although it's not completely boring, as I said, sometimes I talk with my sisters, even though they're all girls we have things in common.
—Now, besides your sisters, you can also talk to me —he kept his voice monotone, but this time there was a softness in his words.
Isagi could almost feel his heart rejoice at the daemon's words.
—I'm glad to hear that. By the way, my name is Isagi Yoichi —he smiled, extending his hand toward Nagi, close enough for him to shake it.
—Nagi Seishiro, a pleasure, Isagi —imitated the gesture and shook his hand, inevitably noticing the softness in the palm of his hand and tried to etch the sensation into his memory.
The sky shattered into threads of light that fell on the spring,
and the water trembled, extending like a reflection of his own heartbeat.
From that moment on, there wasn't a day when Isagi did not receive a visit from Nagi, who always brought objects that Isagi would not be able to touch without stepping away from his spring.
Sometimes, Nagi would arrive before dawn, slowly walking along the edge of the spring; other times, he stayed until the evening light reflected on the water. They talked for hours, but also shared a comfortable silence, especially when Nagi slept without shame.
Isagi learned to wait for those moments with a mix of emotion; even the simple sound of footsteps on the grass felt comforting to the point that it became familiar.
Nagi, for his part, seemed to enjoy watching in silence, admiring every gesture and every movement. In those moments, time seemed to stop, and their routine of his visits became a small ritual that both eagerly anticipated.
—I still can't believe that you are a mediator between the immortal world and the mortal —commented Isagi, coming out of the water and sitting on the edge with his legs crossed, giving half his back to Nagi even though he was covered by his hair black. His naked torso was visible, while his lower area remained covered by his thighs.
Nagi hummed. 'Why?' he asked, moving a little closer until he was shoulder to shoulder with Isagi. His fingers toyed with the water, as if looking for an excuse to further reduce the distance. Without looking at him, he slightly tilted his head toward Isagi, who was at a lower height.
Isagi watched him shyly. Forgetting the question due to the closeness, his white hair brushed his shoulder, causing a shiver to run down his spine. The gesture was almost imperceptible, but enough to flood his cheeks with an unexpected warmth; it was the first time they had been so close, so intimate.
Isagi thought it might be a dream, an illusion born of his deepest fantasies. But Nagi's scent anchored him to reality: fresh, clean, undeniably present. Isagi wished to imprint that aroma on his senses, leave it in his nostrils, in his memory, on his skin. That impulse made him tremble.
Nagi, on the other hand, was not indifferent to what Isagi felt. A warm flush adorned his pale face as well, betraying the calm he tried to maintain. His gaze fixed on Isagi's blue eyes: bright pupils and damp lashes that were starting to dry.
Isagi turned his gaze away for barely a second, as if prolonged eye contact were too much, and then extended his hand toward the spring water. The surface trembled beneath his fingers.
—today the temperature is good —he murmured, almost to himself. —would you like…?
Nagi, not letting him finish, shed his shirt, throwing it along with his shorts, took the first step and the water covered his ankles, the soft sound of splashing began a state of calm. Isagi followed him. The spring welcomed them with unexpected warmth, caressing their legs, inviting them to let themselves go with their instincts.
Isagi hesitated to get closer. Not due to shyness, but due to the intimacy that the contact implied, the one that would start a connection they could not undo without destroying themselves in the attempt.
The dim light reflected between them, blurring the outlines.
When the water reached their knees, their hands brushed under the surface. It was a minimal contact, perhaps accidental… but neither pulled away immediately.
Isagi held his breath and looked at their hands.
Nagi did not move, but he looked at Isagi.
In that silence, both understood that something had changed, even though neither named it.
“Let's go,” spoke Nagi, breaking the silence. With determination he intertwined his hand with Isagi's and guided him to the center of the spring. As they approached the depth, the water grew denser, like the silent desire that rose from both.
When the water reached their elbows, they both stopped and looked at each other.
Isagi's eyes shone with mischief and Nagi's eyes widened in surprise as water droplets splashed on his face.
—cheater… —he murmured, his lips barely curving.
Isagi had learned to notice those gestures, which would have gone unnoticed to others.
Nagi replied by splashing back, with a quick and precise movement. The water exploded into small waves that reached Isagi, who let out a choked exclamation before laughing.
The droplets glittered as they fell on their shoulders, sliding down to disappear on the surface of the spring. For a moment, the spring filled with laughter and splashes; the echo; of the water and the glow of their gazes merged with the light. The sound was pure, light, as if nature itself were celebrating that moment.
Nagi stepped forward a few more steps, his hair glued to his forehead and his chest rising and falling quickly.
—We are on the same page.
The melodic laughter of Isagi filtered into Nagi's ears. He was centimeters away from the shorter one, so absorbed in watching him that he swore to forget how to breathe when their gazes crossed. An electric shock ran through him from end to end, so fast that he barely had time to understand it.
But he already knew it.
He was screwed.
And he wanted more.
He wanted Isagi to take more of him, and him of Isagi. Until devouring each other.
Isagi moved his hand to Nagi's cheek, caressing it softly and smiling, moved, as the taller one leaned in to give him better access.
—I have dreamed of this… —Nagi confessed, his lazy gaze holding Isagi's. —That you touch me like this.
—Hmm, you could say so, me too.
Isagi placed a hand behind the pale neck and, gently, brought him closer. The taller allowed himself to be guided. When their faces were only a few centimeters apart, Nagi's forehead rested on Isagi's, and the tips of their noses brushed softly, causing a light laughter in Isagi as he felt tickles, but staying close.
—I want to kiss you.
—You can do it.
A spark inside Nagi lit up, and his lips kissed Isagi's. His hands found Isagi's slim waist underwater, caressing, squeezing the curves, and pushing his small body against his, squeezing together.
The sky dissolves beyond its limits,
and the spring ignores its shores.
Since they began kissing minutes ago, their lips hadn't separated for a second. Isagi's arms wrapped around Nagi's neck, resting on his shoulders, while Nagi's hands gripped him firmly by the buttocks under the water, drawing closer to him.
Isagi's lips were sore and numb from the kiss, feeling he was going to lose his head. Nagi sucked them softly before pulling away, leaving a thin thread of saliva between them, he ran his tongue along the already swollen and red skin, while gripping the flesh firmly in his hands, causing Isagi to moan. The younger's lips captured his again; wet flesh and tender that rubbed and pressed.
—T-Take me, Sei —he demanded, bringing one hand to the pale cheek and bringing their foreheads together, he kissed him down the bridge of his nose, the corner of his lips and jaw, stopping before descending to the neck. — Please?
—Yoichi, I will give you everything you ask for.
Nagi carried Isagi, holding him by the legs up to the shore; he wanted better access to his body and for Isagi to have it with his own. Being there he enjoyed a better view; Isagi underneath him with tearful eyes, lips red and shiny just like his cheeks, hair messy with strands stuck to his forehead, and… completely naked, surrendering to him without resistance.
Isagi smiled at his own sight, Nagi didn't look in a better state than him. A warm sensation flooded his chest; he didn't know if he should consider himself sick for finding Nagi's appearance exquisite and wanting to devour him, and for Nagi to do the same with him by fucking him. With force he drew his pale face closer and poured wet kisses over his whole face, his ears, and shamelessly down to his neck.
He wanted to mark him, but he didn't know if he was worthy of it.
Nagi noticed Isagi's hesitation, and stretched his neck to the opposite side from where the moist flesh was, giving himself a better view and access. And without hesitation, he bit like a hungry creature; upon tasting a slight hint of iron, he pulled away and licked as an apology, delighting in a moan that did not belong to his own throat.
"mine... mine, mine." thought Isagi, and a growing excitement in his belly made his thighs close unconsciously and he squeezed his already wet vaginal lips, begging to be touched.
Nagi hummed with a mix of admiration and lust in his eyes. —You're wet — he moved back just enough to spread his thighs and get an exquisite view of Isagi's vagina dripping a white liquid that clung to its walls. — you're dripping... a lot.
Slightly embarrassed and with his cheeks burning, Isagi bit his lower lip, trying to cover his vagina with his hands. —Don't look too much, it's embarrassing...
—Embarrassing? I'm about to cum just from seeing you —his tongue ran over his lips,
moistening them. —Can I eat it, Yoichi? —Unlike his usual monotone voice, this time it sounded sweet, almost cloying.
Isagi was screaming inside that he could do whatever he wanted to him, but his mouth wouldn't respond and he only managed to whisper: —Y-Yes.
He brought his face close to his dripping crotch and sighed, making Isagi shiver and let out a small moan. His tongue licked between the lips, testing his movements; he wasn't an expert, but he would do anything to make Isagi feel good and drink his nymph juices. With the help of his thumbs, he spread the lips, exposing the juicy hole, and licked from below up to the bundle of nerves, using as motivation the song of pleasure that emerged from
Isagi's throat. When the vagina was dilated enough to no longer needing his fingers, he raised both hands; one placed on his abdomen, caressing the soft skin, and the other on his thigh, squeezing with the intent of leaving marks. Nagi began with slow, long licks; it was a warm, sweet sensation on his palate; then he applied more force and speed, biting the lips from time to time and slightly stretching them, he wanted to absorb every drop and sound Isagi could give him. When he felt Isagi arching and flailing, he pinned him to the ground with his grip, something that ended up exciting them both.
Nagi penetrated and repeatedly licked with his tongue the vaginal cavity and then climbed to suck the clitoris; at that exact moment Isagi screamed and brought one of his hands to the white hair between his legs, pulling and gently pressing the intruder's face with his soft flesh. Nagi gratefully received every sensation; the itching on his scalp and the feeling of being suffocated while devouring Isagi's hole.
The daemon had visited the underworld and the heaven; he knew every corner, from the brightest to the darkest. However, this was a celestial sensation that changed everything. Now he was deeply sure: this was his place. Isagi was his heaven and his underworld.
—H-here! Don't stop, Seishiro!
The sweetness in Isagi's voice when pronouncing his name almost melted his eardrums; indeed Isagi provoked in Nagi the effects that alcohol has on humans. He invaded the wet and abused hole again with his tongue, adding a finger, widening the walls. When his tongue came out, his finger curved inward attempting to reach the point that would make Isagi writhe, he added a second finger, with his face and palm soaked, he penetrated with greater aggression, but careful not to hurt Isagi. With his free hand he fondled a nipple, playing with it and then pinching while continuing his rhythm with the aim of loosening Isagi, who was beginning to have light spasms. At the third finger his pace was fast and he sought to bury his fingers completely, striking that spot that drew moans from Isagi, tearing at his throat in the process.
—I-I think I'm going to…
His voice was hoarse, and he didn't finish speaking when his body arched and his throat screamed, Nagi was buried between his thighs drinking every drop of Isagi's stream, devouring it eagerly and making sure nothing went anywhere but his mouth.
Isagi was wrecked; with shiny, tear-filled eyes, sweating forehead, his cheeks flushed and lips parted. His mind was blank, clouded by the sensation of his first orgasm, he wasn't even aware that his body was trembling.
Nagi gave him some time to recover while kissing him, pampering and praising how well he had done, biting and pulling the skin of his neck and chest, skin that soon turned red when he moved his teeth away.
He wanted to leave evidence of his presence on Isagi's body.
When Isagi came to his senses, he captured Nagi's lips forcefully, tongues entwined, saliva mixing and teeth clashing. When they separated, Isagi glanced at Nagi's crotch, his erect penis and his glans shining with precum.
"Looks like someone needs attention down there..."
"And it also seems like your body is especially big there," he thought, swallowing hard.
Nagi looked at his own erection and then at Isagi's vagina, nodding. "I want to be inside of you."
Isagi tried to suppress a laugh at the way the words came out of Nagi's mouth; but he just positioned himself on the floor with a smile and his legs
open, so that Nagi could settle in. Now with full access to his vagina, he sent him a silent invitation: 'You have me beneath you, spreading my legs for you to
fuck me, just take me.'
Nagi's penis somehow seemed to grow larger at the sight, with one hand he grabbed Isagi's thigh from underneath, pulling it forward, and with the other he guided his tip to the hole, just rubbing and pretending to thrust, causing a playful frustration in the nymph who complained openly, and Nagi wouldn't lie that he was just as needy, but hearing him complain turned him on more than he should have.
Nagi held his breath and slowly sank between Isagi's legs, bit his lower lip and his eyes went blank at the huge intrusion, halfway in Nagi let out a sigh and looked up into the blue eyes, his hand that had been guiding his penis inside Isagi now resting on the other's slender waist.
'Are you okay?' he licked the lip that had just been bitten.
'Yes, just keep going, Sei...'
As he sank even deeper into the warm cavity, his lips kissed Isagi's soft ones, trying to calm him when his eyes began to tear up again. Both enjoyed the new sensation, although for Isagi it was a mix of pain and pleasure, more pleasure than pain.
Nagi lifted Isagi's body onto his lap and raised his hips, thrusting for the first time, dizzy from the sweet pleasure he let out a hot moan over the other's lips, who moaned weakly. His thrusts became more aggressive and Isagi clung to his back, scratching or digging his nails in, staining the pale skin crimson red. Isagi was being torn apart inside and that gave him heavenly pleasure. His face was so red it looked like he was suffocating from pleasure.
Nagi inhaled Isagi's neck, he felt drugged by the sensation of pleasure and the burning on his back, and it excited him because he was being marked. He also wanted to mark Isagi. He drove his fangs into the middle of Isagi's neck and shoulder. The ecstasy of both bearing a similar mark almost made him cum.
The smaller body floated and then fell into the pale lap that was now turning red from being spanked by Isagi's buttocks. The sounds their bodies made when they came together were wet and obscene before the natural sight of the spring.
All his flesh pierced his entrails, his walls stretched aggressively, the outside of his pussy was slapped and abused by Nagi's testicles as he shoved inside again and again, soon the mucous membranes he produced mixed with the pink of his sensitive skin. Nagi's hands grabbed his hips firmly with a force he would swear would leave marks. The sensations drove him to a state of unconsciousness where his sight clouded and the only thing he could utter were moans and the name Seishiro.
Nagi's thrusts became careless and erratic, cumming at the sight of how his penis bulged Isagi's belly. If he kept delighting in that view, he would cum soon.
Nagi's tongue slips without warning into Isagi's mouth, and he clings to the kiss to anchor himself to reality and the sensation of the thrusts.
The first to cum was Isagi, shouting Nagi's name shamelessly, and him holding him to keep him from falling; after a few thrusts, Nagi came inside him, filling him. His appearance shouted that they had just been devoured by pleasure.
Their heavy breaths were the only thing that reached their ears. Isagi trembled as the
taller guy stroked his back to calm him, leaving tender kisses on his whole face and praising his effort.
—You took me incredibly, Yoichi.
There was that soft voice again, and unable to suppress the weak moan, he hid his face in Nagi's neck, who smiled and hummed in satisfaction; Isagi, feeling it, stood up to look and smiled as well.
—Now I am yours, and you are mine, Seishiro.
Nagi nodded, kissing his temple. —Eternally, Yoichi.
A being who should not feel, surrenders to eternal love.
A naiad who should not aspire beyond his current course is chosen to touch the sky.