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He knew exactly how much the man loved pain.
Before, there was denial that he was any bit of a masochist, but it seems that things change when all feeling you never had has been renewed in your body.
Every sensation, every touch, every caress; every bite, scratch, wound, tear; all of it was new and very much uninhibited. No time-weary walls to help dull the sensations, no years of building a tolerance or mental shield that came with being human, all known for their endurance over shock. No physical callouses. No toughness to protect. But if everything came all at once, the feelings all brand new, as if a blanket of dead flesh has been ripped from your skin and all of your nerves are taut and exposed and trembling and all of these things suddenly washing over you.
- the first caress of a cool breeze, the warmth of a feathery touch -
- the hard chill of a dull blade, the searing heat of living blood -
Sometimes, the difference between pain and pleasure was nonexistent.
At least, this is what the man's mangled and twisting expression told those sharp, cerise eyes. What difference would one be able to sense between the two? Pain was a natural defense - an alarm system, so to speak - that kept living creatures out of harm's way; pleasure sent positive messages to the brain that released chemicals that were beneficial to the creature's welfare, coaxing them to seek out more.
But if one were to be exposed to these sensations simultaneously, perhaps... they would not sense any difference. Pain becomes pleasure, and vice versa. Living in fear and ecstasy, unable to seek one without the other, because they bleed together and soon they become one and the same...
Perhaps...
This hypothesis's truth became more apparent at the next tight twist, the gloved finger digging deep into a gash in his side and staining a bright, pulsing red.
The act elicited a gargling scream, now coated with a rawness that came from overuse. Mixed with it that differed from a man in true agony was a lewd moan that dripped with the saliva that ran down his paled, quivering chin and was halted only by the cold floor. A something else quite unexpected to the casual observer - laughter.
His whole body - now white and emaciated after months of disuse, despite his usual feeding - trembled in anticipation. When his head was coaxed to crane back, staring up at the visitor were a pair of unfocused golden eyes, swimming in tears and lust and excitement.
Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and diluted in the salivation, and immediately the albino knew the man had sunk his teeth too deep in his tongue yet again.
"Noiz-san..."
Though he chastised him, his words were gentle and loving. He craned him back even further, his neck and front bareness exposed fully to the chill of the dark room, and enveloped his lips in his own. Noiz's lips were dry and chapped, moistened now only by the mutual exchange of digestive fluids and, occasionally, his own blood.
Clear ran his tongue around his mouth and lapped up the salty life that dribbled down Noiz's chin. He dipped his tongue deep into his mouth and cleaned the blood that stained his teeth and gums, over the sharp points of his canines and back over his molars, listening to the sharp intake of breath nearly suck him in as he pressed his tongue to the open wound in Noiz's. It still hadn't healed since he tore the piercing right out.
Of course it must be difficult to heal with it split down the middle like that.
But they both knew Clear did it because he loved Noiz.
Suddenly sharp incisors pierced into the muscle between Clear's lips, and he winced at the stinging sensation. He could taste the subtle alternations that existed between Noiz's blood and the artificial version now trickling down Clear's tongue. He peered into Noiz's eyes again.
They were wide and crinkled, clouded with ecstasy and merriment and something else Clear couldn't quite place his finger on. A small bubble of frustration began to grow somewhere inside him at the slow realization.
Noiz was toying with him.
Or rather, he was provoking him. He wanted Clear to hurt him more, to tear his flesh, to make him bleed, to feel his warmth regularly leave his body in a mess of blood, semen and piss. He wanted to be wrecked and shredded apart in ever manner imaginable. He knew which invoked the most action from the Toue creation.
And Clear would comply. He always did.
Not to say that Noiz didn't look absolutely stunning covered in a lace made of red. Each pulse that pumped more of it from each scratch, wound, and tear and staining his skin of porcelain - it would be a lie to say he didn't want to see more of it himself.
Clear is the only one who can recall so vividly how Noiz used to have so much more color - the blond used to be darker than the droid, once upon a time. Perhaps losing so much blood day to day has that effect on individuals. What keeps the young man so full of life? This drug called adrenaline? Perhaps that is part of the source of this high he so craves from Clear. Though he isn't so uneducated with the human body since before he was 'fixed'. In fact, it was Noiz who assisted him in his learning process.
Whether he wanted to or not, now didn't matter.
Clear came to learn that, with such a response, with this 'high', there was the crash. Often after these little sessions - which sometimes lasted for hours - the next Clear would check on him, Noiz would seem little more than a used doll whose life was only assured by the shallow breathing and the weak pulse Clear could just make out from his own superhuman hearing.
It was captivating.
However, Clear knows when to stop - he doesn't want Noiz to die, after all. He wants Noiz to live a long-lasting existence.
He loves Noiz.
And so Clear expressed that by the full force of his fist shattering Noiz's left kneecap.
Something akin to an animalistic scream split the waves in the air and reverberated in the darkness; it even sent a shiver up his spine. Clear watched silently as the bloodied man writhed before him, his left leg now a useless weight as he was left to sprawl on the ground. Those golden eyes lifted and showed more clarity and spark than Clear had seen in weeks. He watched as Noiz's lips quivered and stretched into a wide grin and laughter escape his throat. It was rough, scratchy. He could even hear the soft bubbling of blood - or is it bile? - in the back of his throat.
He laughed too often.
With a slight frown, Clear took his stained white gloves off with his teeth and dropped them to the floor. Noiz's brow twitched as he panted raspily - he knew what was next.
Within moments, Noiz's face was pressed hard to the floor, his hips forced upward in a shameful stance as he was forced to put weight on his broken knee. There was no way to shift all of it to the other - Clear wouldn't allow it - and there were no hands for him to leverage himself with, either - Clear had taken care of that when Noiz was caught hurting and jacking himself off when he had been away. As punishment, Clear had made the amputation especially gruesome and painful.
Only Clear was allowed to do that.
Only Clear was allowed to touch him that way.
Glee mingled with agonized sobs while Clear pried his legs and ass apart.
Noiz was always cleaned meticulously before sessions - if there was any mess to be had, Clear wanted to be sure it was from their sessions alone. A few times he's had to readjust timing or the contents of his meals or whatever else he needed to take care of. Noiz deserved to look his best before and feel his worst after.
That's to be expected.
These are the kind of thoughts Clear has before he sits down and runs the full flat of his tongue from the base of Noiz's balls all along the stretch of skin to the pucker between his cheeks. He watched the goosebumps rise on Noiz's back, along the ridges of his spine that portruded almost in a sickly fashion.
It was such a beautiful sight to see. Clear sighed into Noiz's skin and caressed his thighs down to his knees. Swiftly, he caught the broken kneecap in a vice-like grip and squeezed his bone into his inner flesh. Noiz nearly buckled beneath him as a broken scream rang out.
"Noiz-san..." Clear breathed again before flicking his tongue over the puckered entrance, red and so clearly bruised from repeated misuse. He so, so softly sunk his front teeth into the ridge of the ring of muscle, feeling it contract and squeeze and tremble under his lips.
Noiz was panting now. Clear could clearly see beads of sweat begin to form at the reddened skin of his scrotum. He licked them right off, receiving another jolt from the body before him.
"Noiz-san is so beautiful like this," Clear mumbled lovingly, giving the broken knee another squeeze.
Doubled with the pressure his inhuman strength already applied to it, he felt and heard the familiar crack of yet another break. Noiz spasmed and, this time, he did nearly collapse completely as half of his body met with the cold floor. A broken sob racked from his body, but the wheezing that came along with it was coated with barely-supressed laughter. More like, as if he was winded from laughing too hard.
It was halted and replaced with a sharp gasp as Clear promptly plunged his fingers deep inside of him.
One hand still gripping Noiz's broken bones, Clear began to scissor the man and pry the ring of muscle apart. It relaxed easily enough, what with how often these little sessions take place. Before long, he found the spot he needed and tantalizingly started stroking it with slow, methodical motions. Noiz quivered under him, his arms reaching out to claw with phantom hands, the bloodied trickle of drool spilling past his lips and staining the hard stone.
"Noiz-san, I have missed you all day." Clear lightly nipped at one of Noiz's hind cheeks. He watched the young man's cock twitch from the corner of his eye - it was already beading with precum.
Releasing his hold on his knee, Clear's grip found its way around the base of Noiz's dick, and he squeezed. Hard.
A strangled moan escaped Noiz's lips as he tightened around Clear's fingers. He choked out a sob as he wriggled his hips, trying to press his ass more against his captor, but that only prompted Clear to slip out of him and squeeze him tighter. He clenched him enough to hurt, all the more likely to imprint red welts in the shape of his fingers. Noiz needed to remember who was in control here.
"Did Noiz-san miss me, too, I wonder?"
~*~*~
The contradiction between Noiz's strangled cries and the reaction of his body was astounding.
Clear bucked into him, filling him to the hilt over and over. Blood was their lubrication, Noiz's pain was their pleasure. His legs were spread wide, one slung over Clear's shoulder and drenching his too-small white shirt with perspiration and staining it red. He could hear the broken bones grind into each other sickeningly right beside his ear.
Though his own grunts and gasps, he listened for these things in the young man before him - the way his cock squelched inside of him; the way Noiz's mouth hung open with mingling expressions of immense pain and the lust of a whore; how Noiz's golden eyes dimmed and rolled back into his head in delirium.
Clear payed close attention, through the haze of his arousal, to the erotic view of his lover's body jerking and bobbing on the ground each time he slammed into him. Noiz's swollen dick smeared precum over himself with each heave, leaving a shimmering sheen over the dips and valleys of his tightening stomach. The gasps and trembles of his misused voice. The lewd way his tongue hung from his mouth.
Clear very nearly doubled over when Noiz's ass suddenly clenched tightly around him.
He rasped, taking a stronger hold of Noiz's waist, digging his fingers into his flesh. Noiz squirmed desperately and opened his mouth wide, but only a ghost of broken cries came out. His skin flushed a beautiful red over his scarred body and prickled with beads of sweat. It was these times when Noiz looked the most alive.
Clear couldn't keep his eyes off him.
"N-Noiz... san..."
The honeyed whisper dripped from Clear's lips, filled with so much adoration and love that one could call it heartbreaking. It sounded like it was a mix between an address and a plea.
A plea for what?
The unasked question went unanswered as Clear gripped the young man's cock and furiously began to pump him.
Noiz unleashed an ardent cry, his body lurching in an arc beneath Clear. The android could feel and hear his pulse shoot up; he could hear the blood rushing through Noiz's body and the heat between his legs heighten almost to a burn. Slick with precum and crimson warmth, Clear ravished his lover with more vigor both in front and in back, gasping, groaning, choking his name over and over in some strange unholy mantra.
This is how it was. This is how it will always be. These are the things Clear thought of when he reached his peak and spilled all of himself inside Noiz and when Noiz splattered messily into Clear's hand.
~*~*~
The roles of lover and caretaker have become one and the same for Clear, but he's never minded. Noiz belonged to him, and it was only natural that he take care of him. Noiz's drained body hung limp in Clear's arms as he cleaned him thoroughly, a common occurence that evolved from meticulous habit. The blond only blinked slowly and took upon the mask of a thousand yard stare. Now that the session was over and done, the fire that was alight in Noiz's eyes has dimmed out once again, and he returned to a state that was little more than a doll's.
Clear only smiled at him and kissed him. He licked his wounds and kissed his beautiful scars, relishing his flesh like the sweet temple it was. After he wiped his lover clean inside and out, Clear brought Noiz's stark body into his lap and stroked his hair and thumbed over the torn holes in his ears and lips and face. He could feel the warmth slowly leave Noiz's body, but Clear would never let him seek heat from anyone or anything but him. It's only natural that lovers yearn for only each other, was it not?
He nuzzled his face into Noiz's pale neck and felt the faint pulse that fluttered there. He kissed it gently. He wanted nothing more than to keep his mouth upon his skin, even if he knew he'd be able to return the next day to do it all over again.
"I love you very much, Noiz-san," Clear hummed contently into his skin. He wrapped his arms securely around his limp waist, and Noiz's head lolled silently and rested on Clear's shoulder. Clear turned his attention to his forehead and kissed him there. Then the bridge of his nose. Then his chapped lips. Clear sighed gently and kissed him again and again before he whispered again, "You are mine forever and ever."
Whether or not Noiz could hear him didn't matter anymore. Clear knew that Noiz knew.
That was more than enough.