You're dead to me, Claire.

"L... Luck, why..."

You're DEAD to me, Claire.

"Luck, no... Please, don't... Leave me..."

I hate you, Claire.
You're dead to me, Claire.
I hate you, Claire.
GET OUT.

***

"LUCK...!"
Claire's eyes flashed open, and he lunged forward in bed, gripping his sleeves and crying Luck's name as sweat rolled down his hot back. He panted desperately, trying to fend off the feeling of desperation sucking the air from his lungs, trying to slow his pounding heart. His hair felt damp, and clung to his forehead. Tears crept from the corners of his eyes, and he allowed them to cut watery paths down his cheeks. He cried openly, not even attempting to make himself stop. He gripped his shirt tighter as his body shook with his quiet sobs, becoming quieter still as he forced himself to take deep, even breaths. Gradually he calmed, lying back down, not caring in the slightest about the dampness of the sheets, pillow or his clothes. "Luck..." He said quietly, eyes moist and misted. His chest ached, ached so badly he felt as though his ribs would break from the pressure inside him. "Do you... Do you really..." He felt more tears oozing from his eyes, and he turned on his side, curling into a tight ball. He wondered, for the millionth time his sleep had been broken by those terrible dreams, if it was true. If the world was as his mind dictated... Was it the truth? He had never felt this way before, this all-consuming fright. It surprised him, more than anything, but at the same time, he understood. He had never felt for someone as he had for Luck... He had never loved anyone more than what he felt for the man who had taken him in. They had grown up with each other, and over time, Claire had grown to do more than admire the slightly older boy.

Claire rolled over again, uncurling himself, feeling his breaths come slowly. He should have never left. Never left that household, never left Luck. Regret ate through his stomach, the feeling worming it's way through his torso. Never, never had he ever felt so unsure of himself. He had never felt such fright in his life. He rolled over once more, closing his eyes. "Could he... Really hate me...?" He whispered, to no one in particular. The lonely darkness seemed reluctant to answer back, and Claire opened his eyes again.
Firo.
Firo would know what to do. Firo always knew exactly what to do, what to say. Perhaps he could help him, now. Claire instinctively reached for the telephone beside his head, but his hand stopped short of it's own accord. No, his mind seemed to say. You must sort this out on your own. And somewhere, deep down, he knew. If the world was his, only he could solve his problems, only he could act upon the way he felt. And with that, Claire sat up, and dipped his legs over the side of the bed.

He was out the door in minutes, coat haphazardly thrown on and left unbuttoned, his shoes slipped on. He felt something boiling in his chest, but he couldn't figure out what the emotion was. He slid his key into the locking mechanism of his door, turning the bolt and locking it. He pondered it as he walked, wondered why it grew larger, more uncomfortable, more consuming as he neared the Gandor household. The night was a cold one, his breath forming clouds of mist as he exhaled, but he felt heated with some kind of apprehension. He found it harder and harder to control his breathing, even though his pace wouldn't have brought about even the slightest shortness of breath. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a few moments, trying to rid himself of the feelings. If anything, trying to get rid of them only made them worse. It wasn't until he was standing on Luck's doorstep that he realized the emotions must have been a desperate sort of nervousness.

Claire raised a hand, balling it into a fist, and knocked sharply, three hard raps for every two panicked beats of his heart. He bit his lower lip as he waited for someone to answer, biting down so hard he tasted his own blood. He almost jumped out of his skin when someone opened the door, stomach dropping to his toes when he realized it was Luck himself. The interior of the house was dark, and Luck stood before him, casually rubbing his eyes as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. He seemed to smile a little, very briefly, before his face took on it's usual flat, unreadable look that Claire knew all too well. "Claire...?" Luck asked, rubbing his eyes a second time, as if to check if he were dreaming. "L-Luck..." Claire said numbly back, finding it hard to make eye contact. His mouth hung uselessly open, he just couldn't find the right words to fill it. "...Are you... Alright?" Claire felt a slight, warm pressure on his shoulder, and directed his gaze there, surprised to find Luck had laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you hate me?" Claire hiccuped, immediately looking away, blushing and throwing a horrified hand over his mouth. Why the FUCK did I say that...?! He silently cursed himself for his outburst, but waited for Luck to say something, anything. The silence lengthened, and Claire found this unbearable. His shoulders trembled, and he felt as though he would cry again. He closed his eyes, ready to accept the truth, and slowly turned away.

"Claire." Luck's voice suddenly broke the utter, horrible, painful silence, and Claire found himself frozen. He felt a hand, Luck's hand grab onto and tighten on his sleeve, felt a sharp tug as he was ripped from the outside world into the Gandor den. He saw the door slam shut behind him, felt Luck's lips as they pressed desperately against his own. Luck's arms were suddenly around his body, squeezing the fabric of his coat, and Claire's eyes widened to the size of quarters before gently sliding closed. He wrapped his own arms around Luck's warm body, feeling the plains, angles, twists and turns of his figure, feeling the hot crush of his kiss, feeling a wall against his back as he was pushed roughly against it. "Hate you..." Luck breathed, lowering his lips to Claire's throat. Claire gasped, feelings melting away and revealing the happiness that had been frozen underneath. He shrugged off his coat, desperate to be closer to him. "How could I... I've missed you..." Luck rose his head again, kissing Claire deeply, letting his tongue slip delicately into his mouth. Claire revelled in his taste, licking his tongue, weaving the fingers of one hand through Luck's hair. Claire felt tears pool on his eyelids, streaking paths down his cheeks, relief mixed with happiness and pleasure all at the same time. He felt... Good. He slipped his hands under Luck's shirt, touching his soft skin, loving the shivers he received in return. He swiftly ripped Luck's shirt off, taking his mouth from his lips and placing them on his newly exposed skin.
"I... L-Love you."
Claire felt shivers race down his spine as Luck slipped his own hands under his clothes, whispering the words, peeling off his shirt over his head in one smooth movement.
"I... LOVE you."
He said it again, sticking his fingers just under Claire's waistband, kissing his collarbone. Claire raised his head, placing a gentle kiss on Luck's forehead.
"I've missed you. I l-love you."
Luck raised his head, repeating himself, licking up Claire's tears, winding his fingers through his hair. Claire shivered, lying his head back against the wall as Luck kissed his neck.
"I've missed you.
Stay."