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Mink was aware when Aoba woke, the shifting in the sheets meeting his ears as he stared at the backs of his eyelids. Aoba didn’t often catch Mink asleep, and he was always pleased with himself when he did. Mink didn't tell him that he pretended to be asleep nine times out of ten, letting Aoba celebrate his morning victories. It was a harmless secret he intended to keep.Or so he thought, but then Aoba's fingers clamped around his nose. Mink jerked, eyes flying open, but he didn't otherwise react—he trusted Aoba and thus did not lash out at a perceived attack; by some miracle, Aoba trusted him, too, and didn't flinch.“I think I finally got it!” Aoba exclaimed, smiling coyly down at Mink as he hovered over him. “I knew you had to be faking sometimes!”“Hmm…” Mink grumbled. The noise in his nose came out as a choked honk.Aoba released him with a sleepy laugh. “Sorry,” he said, although Mink didn't know if it was for laughing or plugging his nose.“What tipped you off?” Mink asked.“So you can fix it? Nuh-uh,” Aoba rejected playfully.He threw a leg over Mink’s body and seated himself on his thighs. His weight was warm and comfortable. Familiar. Aoba looked good, all proud and triumphant on his throne in nothing but his underwear for modesty.Mink accused, “You're going to hold it over me until I figure it out myself.”“When you put it like that it just sounds mean, but yes.”Sighing, Mink decided to drop the subject. It was just desserts. If the roles were reversed, he would do the same. Aoba would be loudly indignant, but Mink wouldn’t mind. His wild energy was refreshing.“All right, all right,” he conceded, shifting onto his elbows. He turned, meaning to roll out of bed to start the day.Aoba's weight did not lift.“Do I not get to leave the bed?” Mink asked.“That depends,” Aoba replied. “Do I win something for getting one-up on you?”“Oh, is that what this is about?”One day, Mink would tell Aoba that if there was ever a game between them, he’d already won it tenfold. Still, Aoba kept playing, pulling the rug from beneath Mink’s feet by pursuing him across nations and sliding himself into Mink's life. He stuck around, enjoying Mink's quiet, tempered company. The once-feared threat of violence was tucked away inside his closet with the rest of his skeletons.Mink chose to lose this game over and over with dignity and love.“I want a treat,” Aoba declared lightly, squirming in his seat and beating a pulse of pleasure through Mink's groin. It sang through his veins, thud-thud-thudding with the beat of his heart.Something else squirmed its way through him alongside the arousal, another type of pleasure. I want, Aoba said. I want. He was confident in ways Mink had once tried to stomp out, brave and demanding, joyful and smiling. It was so different from the trembling, bloodied thing Mink wanted to leave him as once upon a nightmare. The transition was blinding.I want you, Mink thought, forever. You are a blessing I took for granted, and I am yours until you cast me to the stones.“What kind of treat?” Mink replied, lowering himself back onto the mattress and reclaiming Aoba's hips. His thumbs swept little arches over the bones. An uneven fingernail caught on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and Mink knew it would be so easy to shove the elastic down once Aoba told him to.In acts such as sex, nothing happened unless Aoba told him to. Luckily for both of them, Aoba wasn't shy about asking.“I want to ride you,” he said, his playfulness tinged with earnestness. “Okay?”There was not a conceivable reality where Mink would dream of telling Aoba no, not when they were warm and comfortable in the sanctum of this bed.“Far be it from me to complain,” he mused.“Mink, come on…”“Of course. To your heart's content.”“What if I wanted to sit on you all day?” Aoba taunted.Tempting, really. With Aoba's warm weight on him, Mink couldn't remember if he had any other responsibilities to attend.“I'd hope you'd at least take water breaks,” he concluded.Bold, Aoba stated, “I only have eyes for one tall drink of water.”“Your flirting is atrocious.”“You like it when I flirt!”“I do.”“...and you like it when I sit on your dick,” Aoba added.Fond, Mink admitted, “I do.”Slyly, Aoba said, “As much as I like it.”“Then we'd better get started.”A quiet huff of laughter trickled from Aoba's lips as Mink's fingers gave a ticklish pass over his sides before they buried themselves in his waistband. As he pulled them down, Aoba leaned forward, letting the last barrier to his nudity glide down his thighs. While Aoba was distracted with kicking them the rest of the way off, Mink lurched onto his elbows to press his lips against his neck. The excited beat of his pulse reverberated in his teeth.“Mmng,” Aoba responded most articulately. It made Mink smile into his neck. “Mi–ink!”Hips rising off the bed, Mink held them both aloft and said, “If you want to sit on my cock, you need to undress it.”“Sh-show off!” he stammered, cheeks darkening past pink and straight to cherry red, as bright and unmissable as his cerulean hair. Nonetheless, he snaked his hands to the comfortable, gray cotton pajama pants Mink preferred to sleep in. Aoba had once asked him about the top of the set, and the reply he received had very obviously aroused him when he heard it: What top? He slid them down his body, and cool air rushed over his cock. Neither complained about the morning temperature; the sooner their warm bodies touched, the better.And it was better with soft, sensitive skin pressed against thick, scarred thighs, gently rocking as Mink lowered them back to the mattress. He could feel Aoba's cock stiffening against the juncture of his leg and groin, and Mink’s body responded in kind, his cock filling.“Y-you can just lift me with your pelvis, huh?” Aoba murmured.“You knew that.”“Yeah. Sometimes I forget how built you are.”Because Mink didn’t throw Aoba around, hold him down, or cow him in his shadow anymore. The Mink of Midorijima had died in the pearlescent halls of Oval Tower, just as he wanted, and malevolent spirits were not welcome in this home.“I would be delighted to remind you,” he stated, rolling his hips up to make Aoba’s breath stutter.Chuckling, Aoba commented, “Eager.”“Perhaps.”With one hand, Mink held Aoba in place so he wouldn't roll off when he reached for the bedside table. A jar of buttery oil rested there, its contents running thin. He wasn't upset that they would run out sooner rather than later, even with the recipe lost, but it was no loss to spend the final drops with Aoba. His arm strained, twinging from an old injury obtained long before they met (cold shackles and wrought iron bars, clinking together with cold, echoing rings, frozen at the edges of his memory), but his fingers only skimmed the table’s edge.“W-wait,” Aoba said suddenly. “That—we're almost out. We don't have to—”“It is of no consequence,” he soothed.“But..!”“Unless you would rather use something else?”Nervously, Aoba suggested, “I‐I can just… spit on my hand, or yours, or…”Mink shifted them closer to the edge of the mattress. His hands fell on the container, and when he pulled it to his chest and popped the lid off, the sweet, floral aroma of the oil bloomed between them like a morning glory waking.“Let us put this to good use,” he offered, “rather than let it go to waste. It is more than fine that it is finite. Many good things are, and we should enjoy them while they last.”Eyes widening, Aoba stared down into Mink's. The spark in them was familiar; it was a molten heat, cooling into hardy steel. Mink had seen this once before on the day Aoba decided to stay.“...You know, I like that,” he said, his voice as soft as a breeze through bristling evergreen needles. “Yeah, I agree. That's… Yeah! Okay.”Mink dipped his fingers into the creamy substance. His skin immediately began to warm, the oil working into the whorls of his fingertips and sinking beneath his nails. He removed them, dripping.Knowing what Aoba's tongue curling around his fingers felt like was a sterling privilege, and Mink knew lapping the oil from between them was one of Aoba’s favorite activities. Without hesitation, Mink offered them up, comparing the gold of the oil to the electric yellow of Aoba's eyes. They would never cease to stun.Aoba was ready, opening his mouth for Mink to place the pads of his fingers on his tongue. It twitched at the touch before his lips shut in an ‘O’ around the digits with an avid suck. It echoed in Mink's crotch, his cock throbbing. Each slide of his tongue on his skin was a sweet torture, hot, wet, and a reminder of the lovely things that mouth could do.That wasn’t their goal, however. Aoba whimpered when Mink removed his fingers from his hungry mouth. After another cursory dip into the oil, Mink teased the head of Aoba's cock (“Wha—oh my ghhn…”). Just enough stimulation to tease, to have Aoba hunch forward so Mink could trail his sticky fingers behind him and between his cheeks. He prodded at the puckered hole there, relaxed as the oil's effects eased through Aoba's body. His first finger pushed in smoothly, and Aoba had no complaints about the second. They rubbed along his insides and coated them with the oil, pushing delighted sighs and breathy moans from Aoba’s lips. He shuddered as Mink scissored his fingers and stretched his rim, but it was an excited reflex, not a fearful one. Casually, Mink nudged at Aoba’s hole with a third finger—Aoba whined, rocking back onto it.“Beautiful,” Mink complimented, carefully maneuvering his fingers to give him the stretch he wanted. “Your expression, your voice—”“Mmm…” Aoba didn’t quite say, a horny puddle on Mink’s lap. His hips jerked in a short, thoughtless movement.“Tell me when you want the treat you asked for,” rumbled Mink as he continued to pet his insides. “I can touch you for as long as you wish, but you’ll get nothing more until you ask, love.”“So mean to me…!” Aoba complained, humping forward to drag his cock across Mink’s skin.“You don’t mean that.”“I do!” Aoba paused, frowning. “I don’t.”Mink fanned his fingers. Aoba’s jaw went slack.“Oh, come on, come on,” Aoba groaned. “I want—!”“What is it that you want?” asked Mink.Aoba bent forward, pressing his teeth to Mink’s chest and nipping. In heady reprisal, he hissed into his skin, “I want to ride your cock.”Well, then.A wet squelch met Mink’s ears when he pulled his fingers from the warm, welcoming clutch of Aoba’s body. On top of him, Aoba squirmed like a snake, shifting on his knees to lift himself off of Mink just enough for him to manipulate his cock. And manipulate Mink did—there were still streaks of oil on his fingers when he grabbed his cock and teased his head at Aoba’s entrance, and the warm sensation danced through his shaft to settle pleasantly in his balls. It was not half as pleasant as Aoba sinking onto him, steadily engulfing his cock. Mink grunted like a bull as Aoba bottomed out, nestled in his lap.“F–uck,” Aoba uttered breathlessly.“Crass,” Mink noted.“You don't care about that, especially in the middle of this.”He was right, of course, and they both knew it. Instead of wasting breath on useless confirmations, Mink took great handfuls of Aoba’s ass and nudged him up, only to drop him back down to the root.“Hnn…! W-wait,” Aoba blurted, “let me do that first. A-and if I get tired, then–”“I hear you,” he replied, easing his hold on him. Visions floated behind his eyes: Aoba, making himself come on his cock all on his own, exultant and glistening with sweat; Aoba, faltering as his legs burned, needing Mink to guide him all the way there. Two perfect futures on either side of a coin; Mink was eager to see which side fell face up.Aoba inhaled shakily, but his exhale was a dragon’s breath of fiery determination. He rose from his seat with his hands braced on Mink’s firm chest, and Mink sighed breathily at the way Aoba’s soft insides stroked over his cock. So stretched and relaxed, the clutch of his body was a cradle rather than a vice. Aoba was no stranger to this act; above him, he gained confidence and speed quickly, honey-sweet groans bursting from his lips with every bounce. The sounds carved themselves into the room’s wooden walls. They would remain for as long as the walls stood, imprinted alongside the spirits’ blessings of health and home.“You’re so b-big it’s stupid,” Aoba babbled when he found enough of his voice to use it.“Stupid, huh?”“S-so stupid! Irredeemably stupid!”Mink trailed a hand over Aoba’s lower back, massaging the heel of it into his soft spots and along his spine in the way he knew melted every prickly part of him at the end of the long day.Hips stuttering out of rhythm, Aoba barked a guttural noise and said, “Oh my God, f-fine, not stupid! D-don’t do that again or I might—”The bump of Aoba’s spine felt fantastic under his hands.With a final, exhilarated shout, Aoba came, his hands fisting against Mink’s chest and accidentally scratching a nipple. He was so beautiful, and Mink was unbelievably lucky to have him like this. He cherished the squeeze of Aoba’s hole around his cock as he spurted his release across their stomachs, thick and milky and dripping from his blushing cockhead to ooze between the fine hairs of Mink's happy trail.“N-now you,” he rasped, shuddering through the aftershocks. “You gotta, too. I’m not selfish!”“You need not defend yourself from me,” Mink assured. Not anymore. “You are wonderful. To see you come undone is a gift.”“Then, I want that gift, too,” Aoba declared greedily. “Let me see you, Mink.”“Am I supposed to tell you no?”“Don't you dare!”Mink's idle hands abandoned their gentle massaging and pressed firmly into Aoba’s back, catching him as he surged upright off the mattress. Aoba howled as he rocked on Mink’s cock in a heavy, sudden sit, his arms and legs (and hole) clenching tightly around whatever parts of Mink they touched.He shuddered, looking up at Mink and digging his chin into his clavicle. “Jeez. What was that?”“You can still see my face, yes?” Mink asked.Even with his face red with desire, Aoba was perfectly capable of meeting his eyes, expression tenuously curious.“I can see you,” he confirmed.“Then, eyes on me.”Under his golden gaze, Mink rolled his hips up, shoving himself deep into the pliant body in his lap. He watched Aoba's eyelids flutter, and his mouth opened with a breathy gasp. The sound rattled down his spine; the things Aoba could do with his voice exceeded the power of man, and Mink was always at his mercy. That power brushing against him, harmless and loving, raised gooseflesh along his arms.“Mm—That's nice,” Aoba murmured. “Slow?”“Tender.”“It's nice,” Aoba repeated. “You're not gonna break—mmm—me if you wanna be rougher, but tender is n—ah—ice.”A memory, grainy and spotty like old, failing film but still so clear in Mink's mind's eye, fought its way to the surface of his mind with claws cut from black chains. This pale skin that he touched so gently was bruised from heavy impacts and heavier hands. Blood on his tongue, but not his own—Mink remembered being rough. More than rough. Aoba broke.He put his pieces back together, misaligned and wrong, but the cracks were lined in gold like his people's historical practices. Mink felt the twisted edges of Aoba's sharp, gilded shards, their points a constant warning against his palms, and knew if he tried to break them again he would sever his fingers. He would deserve it. Even knowing he could be hurt—that Aoba could use anything and everything against him in a most efficient weapon—he still held them close to his heart.Like those pieces, Mink held Aoba close, and Aoba gasped a throaty moan into Mink's skin, both of them sweaty and tacky with cum. He was tender with Aoba and every patchwork, otherworldly part of him, and gave him pleasure slowly in the rising light of morning. He thrust in deeply, lit him up from the inside all along his length, and inhaled every exhale to pass through Aoba's lips. They hummed down his throat, a sweet syrup coating his core—one that grew like a mighty tree the longer he lived inside of Aoba, dispensing and absorbing pleasure through his roots. They grew like lichen creeping up a rock, natural and majestic.His winding roots crumbled the rock, and Mink came, voice a low rumble locked in his chest.“O-oh,” Aoba rasped, shifting on his cock as it spilled into him. He was wide-eyed, staring. “You look so…”Mink held his awed stare as he pulled himself together, gluing every shifted pebble back in place. He'd never been good at letting himself fall apart, but even so, he didn't mind that Aoba got to see the brief moments he did. If Mink cared for all of Aoba's shattered pieces, then Aoba cared for his.“Hm?” he prompted.“...Happy,” Aoba replied. “Now, but also… That's how I can tell. When you're pretending to be asleep.”Minn raised an eyebrow. Still catching his breath, he stiltedly asked, “I look… happy?”“Yeah,” Aoba said, as certain as anything. “No nightmares. No neutrality. You're peaceful. Content. It's nice to see.”Beneath the flicker of surprise fluttering in his chest, Mink was quietly enamored with Aoba's observance. Post-Midorijima, Aoba was always surprising him somehow, either with his wit or recklessness, and this was another facet of Aoba he appreciated.“Perhaps,” Mink said, reaching out to wrap his hand around Aoba's cock, half-hard from Mink's continued activity, “it is simply because you are there beside me.”“Sap,” Aoba chided—or he would have if he didn't sound so pleasantly preoccupied. “F-faster, please, I’m already sensi—ah…!”As if Mink could ever turn down a request from him. His pace increased, slick beads of semen and pre-cum painting his palm. The pump of his hand, the swipe of his thumb against his leaking cockhead—tiredly, Aoba jerked in his seat, coming once more. It was a pitiful amount of spend, decorating Mink’s knuckles in drippy streaks.“Your sensitivity is perfect,” commented Mink. “Makes me feel young.”“Y-you’re still young.”“Not as young as I would like, some days. But it’s fine because you’re right.”Befuddled, Aoba extracted himself from Mink’s lap on trembling legs. Mink’s cock and watery lines of semen slipped free, and he groaned.“I’m right?” he asked, frowning down at the mess Mink had made of him.Gently, Mink drew a lock of Aoba’s hair between his fingers and kissed the long strands. He said, voice low and reverent, “I am happy.”Aoba looked back at him and grinned like the dawn. “Me, too, you know?”What joy, Mink thought, was it to be happy together? So impossibly joyous. Fortuitous. Felicitous.Tonight, he would drop all of those words into Aoba’s lap. As he watched Aoba, he needed to say something else.“I think you’d be even happier if…” Mink started.“If?” parroted Aoba.Running a hand through the splash of cum on his stomach, he said, “If we were clean.”“Oh, boo,” Aoba jeered, then laughed. “My legs are still shaking. Carry me to the bath?”“And so the day’s work begins,” agreed Mink. He slid out of the bed, stretching and rolling his head on his neck.“Hey! I’m not—”“Of course, you’re never work.”“...hmm.”“Maybe.”“I hate you,” whined Aoba. “I take it back, don’t carry me.”“Are you sure?”“...No. I want to be clean. Pick me up.”“Honestly,” Mink scoffed, but he still bent down to pull Aoba into his arms and up off the bed. He went easily despite his mouthing off. “Brat.”“You’re not young anymore. You’re old! Older than dirt.”“Sometimes it feels like it.”Aoba pouted, a little downturn of his mouth. “...but I love you, anyway.”“And I love you as surely as the sun rises in the morning. Allow me to show you in the bath?”A curious noise hummed in Mink’s ear. It was a little hungry. “Yeah. Yeah, please do.”