After a slow day at the junk shop, I come home. I call out to Clear and he comes out of the kitchen, beaming, wearing his adorable apron. "Just a few minutes, dinner's almost ready!" he tells me cheerily.
The plates are already set, and at the center of the table is a bottle of dark wine. I recognize the brand as one of the more expensive low-end kinds, but I decide not to ask Clear about it until he's away from the oven. He's too careless for his own good, sometimes.
He comes to the table with two steaming pots and sets them on their trivets. They smell wonderful, savory and wholesome. I peek inside- in one bowl is nasu dengasu, and in the other is- I can't tell. "Inarizushi," he tells me before I even ask. He leaves and comes back with steamed rice and a small pot of miso soup.
He serves me first, doling out the soup and starches onto my dishes despite my attestations that I can do it myself. Then, he plates himself. I look down at the feast in front of me, this must have taken hours. "Thank you for the meal," I tell him. "It smells wonderful."
Clear beams and starts to try to open the wine bottle by pulling the cork. "Ah, no-" He pauses. "You need a corkscrew."
"A corkscrew?"
"I'll show you." I get up and rifle around in the kitchen drawers until I find one.
"That looks like a weapon, Aoba-san."
"I guess it could be used like one." Clear's brows knit. "But it's not, here, see-" I work it into the cork, then shimmy the cork out with a little pop.
"Ooooh! I understand now!" He looks gleeful at the new information, it makes me smile.
I pour us each a bit, then sit down to eat. "So, what's the wine for?" I ask, taking a sip. It's tart and a little sweet.
"Oh! I read it was a must-have for a romantic meal with your lover!" I almost spew the wine all over my meal, but my hand catches my mouth before I make a mess.
"Where did you read that?!"
"Sexmopolitan magazine."
"Where did you get that!?"
"The grocery store! It's in the checkout lanes. I didn't buy it, but the cover said that red wine was the most romantic way to let your lover know how you feel about them."
I smirk. "I wonder how much the wine industry paid to have them write that?" Clear looks confused. "Nevermind. So…" I feel myself blush. "You got the wine to…"
"To romance you, Aoba-san." My blush spreads.
"You didn't need to do that…" I murmur, looking away. "Can you have alcohol?"
"What do you mean?" He pours himself a glass carelessly.
"Will it… I mean, can your body tolerate it?"
"Of course! I can tolerate all human foods and drinks. My grandfather made sure I could assimilate into all aspects of human function, this is no exception." As if to prove his point, he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a tentative sip. His eyes widen. "Wow, it's so sweet!"
"I'm glad." It's not going to do any good to keep pushing. Clear knows what he's doing, and everyone should be allowed to experiment sometimes. As long as it's safe, I'm content.
I start to eat, picking up a slice of eggplant. It's wonderful, of course. "Delicious." I eat more, then start sampling the inarizushi. Clear, on the other hand, seems infatuated with the wine. He's finished his first glass already, and is pouring a second, having barely touched his meal.
"Won't you eat? It's wonderful." Clear blushes a little.
"Ah, yes, of course!" He starts to eat, enjoying each bite and sip with relish. And as much as I'm rapturous over the food, Clear really seems to be enjoying the wine. No expression so much as hints at disgust with its tartness or the alcohol underneath.
"Is it really so good to you?" I ask. Sure, it was a "sweet" wine, but it was only as sweet as a cheap wine could be. I wonder if his taste receptors register the alcohol, or just the makeup of sugars.
"It's like soda, but it doesn't hurt," he says, and gulps down almost a half of the glass at once. "Like a fruity sugar syrup." His movements have gotten a little looser. "What about you, Aoba-san? Are you romanced?"
I grin. "Dork."
We finish our meal quickly. Clear's cooking is fantastic, and as many times as I eat it, it's always a treat.
By the time the bottle runs out two glasses later, Clear has drunk four and a half for my one and a half glasses. "Are you feeling alright?" I ask him. I believe what he told me earlier, but it's still concerning- What if there was some chemical his grandfather hadn't accounted for, or something Clear forgot?
"Aoba-san, I feel wonderful." He smiles at me goofily. His bright pink eyes have a loose, unfocused glean to them, like he's looking somewhere in the space between us. He reaches out for me and falls over with a surprised sound.
"Clear!" I get down and go to support him, feeling a little woozy myself, and he starts giggling. He's… he's actually drunk. It's kind of cute. "Let's get to bed, okay?"
Clear smiles and kisses my chin, missing my mouth. He giggles again and corrects himself. I can't help but smile back as I put my arm around him and help him up. "Dork."
"Aoba-san, you're so mean!" He pouts.
"Shush, you big baby."
"Aoba-san hates me, wasn't romanced by my red wine."
I open the door to my bedroom. I take a few steps into the room with him before I'm pushed against the wall. Clear looks at me hazily. "I feel dizzy, Aoba-san."
"Of course you feel dizzy, you just downed a bottle of wine!" Clear looks confused. "Let's just go to bed, I'll explain tomorrow."
"Okay, Aoba-san. I trust you."
We get in bed and I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of Clear so close to me. A moment later, I feel Clear's lips on the back of my neck. "Hmm?" I thought we were going to sleep?
"Aoba-san," Clear murmurs into my neck. His tone makes me shiver.
"Aren't you tired? Cle-" I gasp, interrupted, feeling his hand run down my side. He presses himself against my back.
"I want to make you come first, Aoba." His fingers find my nipple and rub it against the fabric of my t-shirt. "I love you."
"Wh- why are you saying that now?" I feel myself starting to blush. The alcohol must be making more sensitive, I can feel myself getting hard already.
"Because it's true." Clear nibbles at the side of my neck, and I moan softly. "Let me make you come, Aoba, please."
"You don't have to ask for permission for something like that," I grumble into my pillow.
"Thank you, master." Clear slips his hands into my pants and starts to rub my cock. "What should we do? You could fuck me, or I could blow you, there's so many possibilities…" He starts stroking me slowly as the words spill from his mouth. I can't remember him ever talking so frankly, or perversely, during sex. I feel like I can't breathe normally, and my skin feels hot.
"Why-"
"But, I think I'll fuck you today. With the way you're pushing yourself against me, I can't imagine you'd rather do anything else." I freeze self-consciously. I hadn't realized I'd been doing that, how embarrassing. "No, don't stop. It's sexy, Aoba-san."
"How could I just-" I get up and blindly grope for the lube in the bedside drawer. I put it in his hand and take off my clothes before getting back in bed.
"How forward of you," he says, his voice dripping with salaciousness.
"Says you." I turn over and get on my hands and knees, waiting for Clear to prep me. I feel his hands- both of them?- opening me up, and then- I gasp and jerk when something hot and warm caresses my hole. "Clear!?"
"Aoba," he says nonchalantly before licking me again, snarky shit. I accept what he's doing and focus on how it feels- it's strange. But soon it turns into a good sort of strange, sinfully hot, and I'm pushing back into his face and gripping the bedsheets, panting. When he slips a slick finger into me, I moan shamelessly. My body feels electric.
He moves on to two fingers much quicker than usual, but it doesn't hurt at all. Rather, I feel myself wanting even more, asking for another. Clear squirts the lube onto the fingers still inside me, and I shudder from the sudden coolness of it.
"Clear, now." Clear's breath runs down my neck, fast and hot. I realize that I haven't touched him yet, but I feel him press against me and he's already hard. I laugh breathlessly. "Excited?"
"Of course, Aoba." His voice makes something hot pool in my spine. "Now?"
"Mmm- ah, Clear!" He pushes in easily, his cock hot and slick. I want to feel more. He starts to move in and out slowly, letting my body get used to him. His angle isn't as perfect as usual, but he's still hitting that spot in me often enough that I feel my control falling away. This won't last long. Before I can think about it, I hear myself asking, "Ho- hold my hands back."
"Aoba?"
"Please." Clear grabs my hands reluctantly and I bend my arms back.
"Like this?" he whispers, grabbing my wrists and thrusting again. I moan and nod into my pillow.
"Don't let go."
He kisses my wrist and starts to thrust again, rubbing my insides deliciously, pounding me with a rhythm that makes me gasp for air. My arms twitch and I try, instinctively, to reach down to rub my dripping cock, but Clear's strong hold keeps them in place. The lack of control makes it so much more intense, and the pleasure feels like it's slowly burning up my core.
"Do you feel good, master?"
"Clear-" I choke his name out, but my mind isn't coming up with any other response. "More," I say instead. He provides, grunting quietly and speeding up. I feel myself starting to peak.
"Aoba… you're coming so soon, today."
"Shut up- God, Clear- say my name again-" Clear pushes in deep and leans forward, and I gasp and whine with stimulation as his cock starts to vibrate inside me.
"Aoba-" he whispers into my ear, desperately, and I come onto the sheets. I hear him gasp and feel him filling me up with his come as the pleasure floods me. My arms and legs twitch helplessly as I ride it out.
Clear pulls out of me a moment later, still holding my hands back. I pant, waiting for him to let go so I can hold him. And wait. And wait. After a while, I pull my hands back, but he keeps them tight.
"Clear."
"Mmmm?" He sounds tired.
"Let go of my hands."
"Ah!" He drops them like they're on fire. "I'm sorry, master- you said not to let go-"
I turn over and kiss him softly on the mouth, quieting him, and wrap my arms around him. They're a little sore, but I don't mind. When I pull away, he starts right back up. "So I didn't let go, I didn't realize that-"
"It's okay, Clear." That stops him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I love you."
He smiles and touches the side of my face. "I love you."
"Go to sleep."
"Yes, Aoba." He lays down next to me and closes his eyes, smiling peacefully.
The next morning, Clear has his first hangover.