hi

Sunday wasn't built for the hot weather of the resort, clearly, but no scorching heat would be as hard to handle as that man. Aventurine was there from the moment Sunday and the rest of the crew stepped foot in the stop and made sure to make himself present at all times. For someone who was supposedly both working at a side modeling gig and trying to enjoy some vacation, Aventurine managed to find an impressive amount of time to stick by his side.

"I went to see them, but I noticed you were missing," Aventurine continued, taking the space in front of Sunday as his seat, "are you not a fan of the water, mr. Sunday?"

"I'm… more comfortable this way," Sunday explained, trying his best to keep himself composed in front of the other. "And, please, I'm no more than the other Nameless. You… don't have to be so formal around me anymore."

"Is that so?" Aventurine chuckled and turned around to fully face Sunday, making the latter's cheek heat up with the sight. "Can I call you 'Sunny' too, then?"

It took Sunday a few seconds to take note of the question thrown at him. He blinked, barely grasping anything beyond the tone Aventurine used. "I… ahm, yes? I'm sorry, I don't think… I understood the question, mr. Aventurine."

If Aventurine's overly friendly nature wasn't already enough to overwhelm Sunday, his new outfit sufficed to complete the task. Sunday couldn't help but spare a look at Aventurine's bare chest, all the way down to waistline.

Of course, Aventurine caught him staring and his smile widened as he did so. "My, I thought you'd be more discreet," Aventurine teased, "my eyes are up here, Sunny."

Sunday widened his eyes and looked back at Aventurine's face for a split of a second before turning his head away. His wings fluttered rapidly and instinctively covered the lower half of his. "I-I'm sorry!" Sunday gasped, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment. "I d-didn't mean to stare! I just—"

"Relax," Aventurine laughed, cutting off Sunday before he tried to come up with an explanation, and leaned back on his hands. "I don't mind it, not if it's you."

"'You' what?" Sunday repeated, peeking through the corner of his eyes. Whatever Aventurine meant with that sentence went straight over his head, the concept of flirting absolutely foreign to him.

Aventurine rolled his eyes at the question and hooked a finger at the border of his shirt to further expose his chest. "C'mon now…" He let the cloth slide down his shoulder, watching Sunday's startled, almost scandalized, reaction with amusement. "Don't you think I look good, Sunny? I picked this outfit myself, you know."

"Y-you—" Sunday gulped, wishing he could hide behind his wings, "you do look good, mr. Aventurine."

"Right?" Aventurine nodded, a little too confident for his own taste, but the occasion asked for a bolder approach. He shifted onto his seat and placed one hand on Sunday's knee, stroking the exposed skin. "And you're handsome as ever, Sunny. I have to say, this is my first time seeing so much of your skin ~"

Sunday flinched at the touch, his body tensing in response. He felt like he was being eaten by Aventurine's eyes, stared at like he was some sort of meat on a plate. It made him anxious, even a bit insecure — but he just couldn't bring himself to tell Aventurine off, not when he had the same sort of craving in his own eyes.

He tilted his head, watching Aventurine's fingers slide around his kneecap and then down his shin. Each stroke made his skin prickle with goosebumps and his nerves tingle in a way that sent shivers up his spine. "I— ahem, you can say I prefer more… modest outfit, but the resort asks for its own dedicated attires."

"So diligent," Aventurine muttered. His finger stopped at Sunday's ankle, right above the little anklet he was wearing. He caressed the side of Sunday's leg, smiling as it kicked out slightly in anticipation. "But… are we going to stop here? Just complimenting each others' clothes?"

Sunday looked up from Aventurine's hand to his face, meeting his expectant gaze. Stop? Was there more to it? Other complicated steps for a greater scheme? Courting was truly harder than it seemed to be in theory.

Sensing the other's loss of words, Aventurine hooked his hand behind Sunday's ankle and pulled his foot into his lap, making room for himself between Sunday's legs— a little closer to the other man.

"M-Mr. Aventurine—" Sunday gasped as he felt Aventurine's firm grip around his leg, realizing it was too late to try to walk away.

"I can't tell if you're acting dumb or coy," Aventurine chuckled, interrupting whatever Sunday had to say at that moment. "But it's cute either way."

"W-what do you— wait, t-there are other people around here! W-we are in public!"

"Oh?" Aventurine chuckled, thrilled at the sight of Sunday's flustered face. He knew he would ruin it if he pushed it too much, but how was he supposed to stop? "Tell me, just what sort of indecent thought are you having right now? Can't two friends share a seat?"

Sunday clenched his jaw and whimpered quietly. Aventurine was just teasing him, he repeated inside his hand, dangling a bait in front of his eyes and waiting for him to take it. "Y-you…. you're too close, mr. Aventurine…"

"So you want me to go away? To leave you with your book again? ~" Aventurine purred, his thumb soothing the smooth skin of Sunday's leg.

Sunday pressed his eyes shut, frowning slightly. His lips curled with words stuck on the back of his throat, but he couldn't make himself admit it. Aventurine was undoubtedly tempting, but everything about it sounded wrong inside Sunday's head.

"I'm not taking a cold shoulder for an answer, Sunny," Aventurine smiled, his voice breaking through Sunday's inner monologue and struggle. He dragged his fingers down Sunday's leg and wiggled them against his sole, making Sunday jump and try to pull his leg back.

"A-ah! What are you—"

"I'm asking you a question, Sunny," Aventurine grinned, grabbing Sunday by his ankle again. "I need a clear answer from you and I don't plan to leave without one."

"M-Mr. Aventurine— ahAH, w-wahait a second! Stohohop it, I-I'm tihihicklish!" Sunday giggled as Aventurine's fingers scratched the arch of his foot, the touch maddening gentle against his sensitive skin. Sunday curled forward, trying to reach to pry Aventurine's hands off his body and to pull his ankle free from the other's grip.

"I supposed so," Aventurine teased, barely bothering himself with Sunday's hands. He tickled Sunday's foot like a kid playing with a toy, changing from teasing touches to rougher ones at whim and listening to Sunday's laughter change in response. "Have you ever been told how melodic you sound like this? You should smile more often, Sunny."

"P-PLEHehease, n-no mohohore! Ahah, lehehet me go!"

"Not yet," Aventurine shook his head, listening to Sunday squeal as he tickled him under his toes. "Just know, did you want me to leave? Or would you agree we could spend some more time—"

"M-Mr. Aventurine! I-it reheheally tihihickles, I c-cahan't tahahake it!" Sunday's unrestrained laughter cut through the question. He remained hunched over his legs, trying to pull himself out of the ticklish torment.

Aventurine sighed and dragged Sunday's ankle closer, making sure he wasn't going anywhere but closer to him. "Yes yes, but this is important, too. I'll keep it short, since you're in such a hurry," he couldn't sound mad even if he wanted, not when Sunday was smiling so adorably right next to him — and even better: because of him.

"Would you go on a date with me, Sunny? I heard the pool is great at night."

"I-I cahahan't answer lihihike this— ahAHAh, s-stohop it, plehease—"

"It's a yes or no question, Sunny, it can't be so difficult. I'm not even tickling you that hard, am I?"

"I— agh, f-fihihine!" Sunday whined along with his giggles, throwing himself back in the lounge chair. "W-we can gohoho out! J-just stohohop it!"

"Splendid," Aventurine cheered, the tickling ceasing like Sunday just said some sort of magic word. "I'll pick you up in your room at 8', yes?" Aventurine continued, crawling a little closer to Sunday to see his flushed up face. "Grant you I won't be more than a couple minutes late."

"A-ahah, y-you don't— ahh, d-dohon't need to hurry," Sunday groaned, finally looking back at Aventurine. He pouted slightly, but felt his heart drumming inside his chest— from both the adrenaline of what just happened and excitement for what was scheduled for later.

"Now," Aventurine smiled and helped Sunday seat up, "if you excuse me, I've another appointment in a couple minutes. Please, enjoy your stay at Astropolis and," he took Sunday's hand in his, kissing his knuckles, "don't forget about me, ok?"

"R-Right… I won't," Sunday nodded. It wasn't like he could forget Aventurine even if he wanted to. Sunday shifted in his seat slightly, almost frozen in place as Aventurine bid him goodbye one more time and walked away.

"…"

Harumasa flinched away from the phone, his eyes scrunched up as Yanagi's scolding went on. He knew this was going to happen, but what else was he supposed to do? "I-I know, I know!" He whined, sounding like he was at the verge of crying. "But… I-it's really hard for me to go out right now, Deputy Chief".

"I'm going to need a clearer, decent explanation, Asaba-kun, especially if I'm going to fill out your leave request," Yanagi continued, her tone slightly firmer than usual. She was mad, Harumasa thought as he leaned on the sink for support. "This is the third time this week, so unless it's really something—"

"It's a side effect!" Harumasa admitted, his fingers clenched around the phone and eyes lowered to avoid his own reflection. "My doctor prescribed me a new medicine and I took it for the first time yesterday, but… y-you could say I woke up with some weird side effects from it…"

"Shouldn't you come and get checked by our medical team, then? I'm sure someone at H.A.N.D.S. can treat your symptoms."

"T-that's the problem!" Harumasa pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished he could simply blurt it out and end this awful phone call at once. He would rather be caught dead than be in a situation like this, but here he was. "I… I can't go out, Deputy Chief."

Yanagi sighed and Harumasa could picture what sort of face she was probably making on her end. "Can you at least tell—"

"I have to hang up now, Deputy Chief! Thank you very much, I'll buy you something when I'm back! Bye bye!!"

"Wait—"

"Fuck," Harumasa hissed, his heart pounding inside his chest. He would need way more than just an apology gift for when he made it back to the office, but that was a problem for later. He looked back at his reflection, his eyes wandering down from his frustrated face to the hard cock standing between his legs.

Despite what he told Yanagi, Harumasa wasn't sure if this lasting, stubborn erection was really a side effect from the pills he took the night before. All he knew was that he was fine when he went to sleep and that he woke up to this aching, bothersome problem.

At first he thought it was a regular morning wood, nothing he should really worry about. When it refused to go away after a couple seconds, Harumasa just decided to… have some fun before heading out. Then, however, the problem really started.

He wasted almost half an hour under the shower, his back pressed against the cold wall while he jerked himself off under the stream of warm water. He stroked his length from the tip to the base, rubbing and squeezing the tip and even playing with his balls, but nothing seemed to work or get himself off. Harumasa felt the arousal and the frustration from the edging growing up inside him with each passing second, and, yet, he couldn't cum.

The orgasm started to feel less like a bliss and more like a need. He continued to masturbate, trying to picture the hottest scenes he could inside his head, only for it to turn into one fruitless attempt after the other. His dick swelled and leaked, the tip turned into a deep shade of red and he felt his balls clenching, but he didn't get even the slightest taste of release.

As he stepped out of the shower with an even more pent up erection, despair started to hit him. His erection started to feel a little painful, the muscles around his core tired from the tension and the clenching. Harumasa was supposed to go out to work in a couple minutes, but how was he supposed to show up in public like this?

After he hung up on Yanagi, he made his way back to his bedroom. He wore the towel around his shoulder, barely bothering to dry off the damp skin. All Harumasa could think about now was to get himself to cum — even when he had no proof it would actually work or solve his problem, it was the only thing he could think of now.

Harumasa sat on his bed, naked, and slowly reached for his dick again. He hesitated, afraid to make the problem even worse than it already was, but the craving for an orgasm was already far greater than what he could reason.

He stroked his dick again, gently clenching his fingers around the shaft. He pumped it once, twice, thrice, leaning back on his hand and throwing back his head. "Ah— ahh, d-damn it… hnngh… c-come on," Harumasa moaned, his eyes half closed while he stared at the aching boner between his legs.

But it didn't matter how, or what, he tried. Nothing seemed to work, to please him enough to give him that push past the edge.

After another fruitless, frustrated masturbating session, Harumasa started to wonder if there wasn't anything else he could do. Maybe he should try calling his doctor again or just go back to sleep with the vain hopes that it would go away. He looked around his room, his arm tired after the repetitive attempts, and ended with his eyes landing on his phone. Harumasa sighed and another, even less reasonable path of action came up to his mind.

He reached for his phone, hesitating before he dialed each and every digit. Part of him began to hope that he wouldn't pick up the call, but he insisted on the plan.

The sound of the phone ringing made him regret that choice more and more by the second. Expectation started to make him anxious and Harumasa thought about giving up on this absurd decision. However, out of irony or luck, he heard a soft click before he could act and the other man's voice reached him.

"Hello?" Wise asked. He sounded a bit drowsy, especially calm.

"H-hey there, manager," Harumasa muttered and laid back on his bed. The room's air felt cold against his skin and so did the sheets that barely offered him any comfort at that point. He couldn't be less bothered by them, however. "Say it, a-are you busy right now?"

"Hmm, not really, why—"

"Great," Harumasa gasped, rolling onto his side, "c-can you come over my place? I-I… I need your help. Please."

Silence lingered in the call for merely a second and Harumasa's heart began to race again. He squeezed the phone between his fingers and bit down at his lower lip, waiting for the answer that seemed to take an eternity to come. He opened his mouth, but his words were held at the back of his throat as soon as Wise's voice could be heard again through the phone.

"Let me just get changed and I'll be on my way," Wise muttered. Harumasa could hear some soft noises coming from Wise's end, probably from him walking around wherever he was. "Is everything alright, though? You sound… off. Do you want me to call someone else—"

"No!" Harumasa answered, a little too fast to not make Wise even more alarmed. "I-I just— ahem, well, it's better if… you come on your own. I really need you here, manager," he added in a sigh that neared a cry.

"I'll be there in a minute, I'll hang up."

"T-thanks, manager," Harumasa forced himself to smile before the call ended, trying to keep himself positive about it.

He should've thought about this twice, but there was no room for clear reasoning when he was so damn hard. Arousal clouded his judgment and drove him like instincts guided an animal. What would he even tell Wise when he got there? This was way worse than a regular booty call, way more pathetic too.

Harumasa held the towel against his face, ashamed of himself and the situation he was in. It was going to be fine, he told himself, Wise was always nice to him and always knew what to do.

They couldn't be that close yet, but something about Wise just made him seem like the right person to call. He was caring, kind and always wore that gentle smile that made him look even more handsome. Wise was smart and… always smelled nice, too. He wasn't that strong, but his hands always felt so firm that Harumasa wouldn't mind trusting his life on them. In fact, he wished he could be held by them right now…

"F-fuck…" Harumasa gasped, his hand already back at his cock before he could make notice of it.

Calling Wise suddenly started to feel more and more like the right thing to do. Harumasa pressed his eyes shut and frowned, stripping Wise off his clothes inside his head just to imagine him in all sorts of situations and poses. Harumasa was sure Wise had a nice ass and probably a nice cock too. He wanted to feel it— no, he needed to feel it. How would Wise's voice sound in bed? He looked like the type that would get breathless so easily….

"D-damn it, manager… hurry up…"

Just how far away was the Sixth Street again?

Harumasa pressed his face into the mattress and groaned, his hand coated in his own pre-cum while he turned the bedsheets into an absolute mess. His surroundings started to blur right before his eyes and everything seemed to spin as he shifted around the mattress. Harumasa let out a saddened chuckle, even more annoyed at the thought that all of this was happening because of an orgasm he couldn't reach.

He sat himself back up and grabbed his phone with his still-clean hand. He had already lost count of how many times he checked the clock in the past hour, but there was still hope that more than a few minutes would've passed. "I think I'm going to go crazy—"

Knock knock.

"A-ah!" Harumasa's eyes snapped open and he turned around to face the source of that sound. He wasn't hallucinating, not this time, right? "W-Wise?" He called and clenched his hand around the towel that kept him company until now. "Is that you?"

"Yes?" The muffled voice came from the distance, from the other side of Harumasa's apartment's main door.

"P-perfect," Harumasa gasped and stumbled his way out of his bed, barely wrapped in his towel. He made a crude knot around his waist, just enough to not completely flash his guest right at the door. "J-just a second, I'm grabbing the keys!"

Wise chuckled, "It's fine, Harumasa".

Damn it, Harumsa thought, just then realizing he still didn’t have an explanation or even the slight idea of what he was going to ask Wise to do. All he did until now was to touch himself and moan the manager’s name. What was he even supposed to do with that?!

He sighed one last time, gathered what was left of his pride and dignity, and pulled the door halfway open to peek at Wise. “H-hey there, manager.”

Despite how much he tried to sound natural, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fool Wise and, even if he did, it wouldn’t last long. Wise cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow arched as he stared at Harumasa’s bare shoulder. “Did I arrive at a bad time? Should I come back later?”

“No– well,” Harumasa coughed, not really willing to admit what he had done in the past hour. “Can… you come in? I think it’d be better to explain.”

Wise nodded and Harumasa pulled the door the rest of the way, still hiding behind it like a shield. When Wise was finally inside, Harumasa snapped the door shut like it was all part of some sort of trap and stood in front of it.

He turned around and was met with Wise confused and somewhat flustered gaze over his body. “I s-swear I can explain it,” he muttered. Maybe he should’ve just called his doctor, after all.

“Were you showering?” Wise said and turned his face away. “I-I’m sorry, you didn’t say anything earlier, but you seemed in trouble so I just came over as soon as I could.”

Harumasa felt the air around his face turn hotter and his own skin warm up. He pressed his legs together and held the towel tightly against his crotch. “I-it’s fine, ahem, I just… didn’t have time to change myself yet.”

“Right,” Wise seemed just as lost, and uncomfortable, as Harumasa with the whole situation. Still, he seemed to somehow manage to collect himself again, even facing Harumasa despite the awkwardness and embarrassment. “You said you needed my help, right?”

“Yes,” Harumasa bit his lower lip and threw a glance at the ground between the two of them.

He had known Wise for a while and, admittedly, had one or two feelings for him, too. They’ve gotten closer over the time and even casually flirted a few times, but that was it. He never dared to take another step and Wise didn’t seem like the type to make his move first either, so this was all their relationship was about.

At least, until now.

If they were to be more than friends, Harumasa wanted to make it at least a little corny. Ask the proxy out on a date and buy him silly gifts. This already felt like he was messing it up and, maybe, even screwing whatever chances he had with Wise. Still, if he couldn’t do it by himself, he might as well try to make something out of this weird, awful situation. He was this desperate, after all.

"Can you fuck me?" Harumasa blurted it out after a sigh.

He fixed his eyes on Wise's face and watched his expression slowly shift as realization dawned on him. His cheeks turned into a shade of deep pink in mere seconds and his mouth hung agape, at a complete loss of words. If it wasn't for the predicament he was in, Harumasa would've found Wise's reaction quite amusing to look at.

"W-what?! I mean, ahem, you don't mean—"

"Sex, manager," Harumasa interrupted him, his hands clenched harder at the towel around his waist. "I-I need to have sex with you! Like, right now!" He groaned, looking around. He couldn't believe in his own words, how could he hope to convince Wise?

"I— wait, you said you 'need' us to have sex?" Wise blinked in sheer confusion, he looked at Harumasa from head to toe again and tried to make sense out of the situation.

There was no way he hadn't spotted the bulging tent between his legs at that point, Harumasa thought. Wise was probably going to assume he was some kind of freak or worse. But would explaining his issue make the whole situation any better?

"Yes," Harumasa nodded and finally found the courage to look at Wise in the eyes again. "So…"

Getting caught unarmed by an ethereal would hurt less, if he had to guess. Harumasa explained, in an awfully detailed manner, his current situation to the proxy. From the mere change of medicine to how his permanent boner ruined his entire morning routine and the fruitless attempts he had tried so far. The worst of all was that not even the shame and the humiliation from having to justify his absurd request made his dick go soft. In fact, it stood up as proud and shameless as ever.

Harumasa wanted to know what sort of thought was going through Wise's head. All he could catch were the looks of disbelief, then something like pity with a pinch of amusement. Was he buying it? Or was he trying to find a way to make it out of the apartment? Harumasa hoped it was the first.

"T-that's it," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The skin of his face felt warm to the touch, almost hot enough to oppose the cold from the room's air against his bare body. "I should add that… I find you pretty cute, too, if that makes it any less weird. I just—"

"It doesn't, really," Wise said, but his tone seemed brighter, more relaxed than from moments ago. The proxy chuckled under his breath once he saw Harumasa's troubled, appalled expression. "But I think you're handsome too."

That was not his point, nor what he wanted to hear. An especially painful throb reminded Harumasa of what he still needed to do. "S-so… can we..?" He bit his lip while his core clenched, his body already reacting on its own to the mere sound of Wise's voice.

The answer came with a shy, quiet nod. Before he could make sense out of it, Harumasa had already taken Wise by his hand and dragged him along, guiding him to his bedroom. It was hard to tell if he felt happy or relieved, maybe a bit of both or something else entirely: eagerness. His heart pounded inside his chest and his erection suddenly became harder to hide. Should he even try to be discreet about it at that point? Harumasa groaned, impatient at his own thoughts.

"Is that the medicine you talked about?" Wise asked as he stood near the edge of the bed, hands closed around the hems of his jacket.

The question snapped Harumasa from that trance-like state. He felt his throat close for a moment, as if caught by surprise and by the realization that he was sitting naked in front of Wise. He coughed, shifting onto his side to try to somehow cover his dick. “Y-yeah, why?” He forced a chuckle and looked at Wise over his shoulder. “Need help getting it up? I know I’m a real sight to behold, but I don’t recommend taking these–”

“Harumasa”, Wise interrupted, he leaned over him and placed one hand at each side of Harumasa’s body, trapping him against the bed. “I told you, I think you’re handsome too, no? So stop with these.”

Harumasa felt a tingle run down through his spine all the way to his dick. “Damn it, manager,” he breathed out slowly, suddenly shy. "I might actually believe you if you keep talking like this.”

Wise smiled. "Good," he said, eyes narrowed as his hand hovered over the other man's body, just an inch away from the skin. It didn't take Wise another second before he finally touched Harumasa, his fingers gently trailed up the side of his thigh and then down the curve of his groin — all with a delicate, almost devoted motion.

"Ah—"

Harumasa clenched his jaw and threw his head back, his skin prickled with goosebumps as Wise started to stroke his dick. The difference between this and when he jerked off earlier shouldn't be this big. Maybe it was the anticipation or how sensitive Harumasa made himself with one frustrated attempt to orgasm after the other. Whatever it was, that sensation had him gripping his bedsheets as if his life was on the line, barely moving yet unable to just lay still.

Wise's fingers squeezed him just right. His erection throbbed inside the proxy's grip, leaking small drops whenever Wise rubbed it close to the tip. Harumasa could barely mind the volume of his voice, too busy letting himself be indulged and handled. For the first time in that morning, he started to feel like he could actually come — Wise's hand felt like the best thing in the world, pleasing him better than anything else could.

"Your neighbors might file a complaint against you," Wise warned as he nestled against Harumasa, his lips less than a palm away from the other's ear. "I'm glad you like it, but—"

"T-then do it faster, manager," Harumasa moaned, his voice now barely louder than a whisper after the reprimand. "Please— ah, f-fuck! I need more, m-manager, please!"

Wise sighed, "I get it, I get it… come here," he added as he pulled Harumasa with him to the mattress, one arm wrapped around his body. Wise picked up the pace, circling his wrist to rub the sensitive tip before stroking the rest of the shaft again, up and down and repeat.

Harumasa pressed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the pleasure to actually come this time. His chest waved with his ragged breaths, each faster than the last as anticipation started to stir inside him again. His back arched slightly as he unconsciously thrust into hand stroking him, seeking for more of Wise's touch. "S-stop teasing, hngh…"

"I-I'm not," Wise muttered, looking down at his hand. Wise had put every trick he could remember from the adult videos he watched before at the store in practice and, while he knew what sort of trouble Harumasa had at the moment, it shouldn't take this long for a result. He felt Harumasa's hot breathing against his neck and his fluids soaking his hand, but all he managed to draw out of him were moans and pleas — not even a sign of the orgasm the other had desperately asked him for.

"Fuck me, Wise," Harumasa sobbed, impatient at another fruitless attempt. He rolled onto his side and clung to Wise's shirt, his face pressed into the proxy's shoulder.

"H-Harumasa," Wise widened his eyes. He wrapped his hands around Harumasa's body as the other slid out of his grip and got impossibly close to him. He felt Harumasa's dick pressing against his clothed thigh, the situation suddenly out of his control. "Wait a s-second, let me try something—"

"No, Wise, please," Harumasa gasped and squirmed in the little space he had against Wise's body. He held Wise's face by his chin with one hand to get a look into his eyes. "This isn't doing it… Please, j-just fuck me."

How could he say no to a request like that? He doubted he even had any other option at that moment. Wise simply nodded and leaned to press his lips against Harumasa's as his hand slid down the other's back. He squeezed Harumasa's ass cheek and gasped as the other whimpered into their kiss. "Hold on, I n-need to prepare you—"

"Hnngh, s-stop complicating it," Harumasa whined and took the chance to catch some air. "Just get inside me already, I-I'll have a stroke if you provoke me any more!"

"Y-you'll get hurt," Wise gasped as he felt Harumasa's hand latching onto his crotch and working to strip him off the rest of his clothes. "It won't take long, I j-just—"

Harumasa groaned and smacked Wise's hand away from his. "I don't care, manager. Now, hurry up."

Wise could only watch as Harumasa undressed him as if he was some sort of package. His pants and underwear were dragged down in one go, left at the height of his knees before Harumasa held his already half hard dick. "See," Harumasa huffed after the little effort, "you want it too…"

"I-I never said I didn't," Wise muttered, his fingers pressed against the small of Harumasa's back while his dick hardened under the attention.

Needless to say, Harumasa wasn't interested in returning the favor or wasting any more time in another foreplay. As soon as it looked enough, he moved and straddled Wise's lap. He felt the proxy's dick rubbing the curve of his ass and looked over his shoulder as if to check it. When he turned his head back, Harumasa couldn't help but smile at Wise's helpless expression.

"What now, manager?" Harumasa purred and placed his hands on top of Wise's chest as he lifted his ass slightly to angle the motion. "Are you scared?"

"Sort of," Wise nodded, his voice shaky. He held onto Harumasa's waist, but nothing else. He knew he had lost control over the situation and the best he could do was to follow the other's commands at that point. "T-this is a little… too hot for me."

Harumasa chuckled, "if you weren't so reliable, I wouldn't have called you. Think of this as a treat for you helping me out, ok?"

Circling his hips one last time, Harumasa felt the tip of Wise's dick press against his asshole and sat down on it in one go. He hissed as a mix of pain and pleasure climbed up his spine as he felt his muscles being forcefully stretched — a price he was willing to pay at that point. Harumasa moaned, his knees suddenly weak.

"E-easy there," Wise gasped after he had nearly choked on his own words. "I t-told you, you'll get yourself h-hurt."

"H-hahh, I'm… I'm a toughie, manager," Harumasa breathed out, trying to get used to the feeling as Wise's cock pressed against his insides. "I can take you j-just fine, I promise."

Hurting him or not, his craving was far too great to have something like that in mind. Harumasa gritted his teeth and moved, his body leaning into his hands for support. He lifted his ass slightly, then lowered it again in one go, letting Wise's cock all the way back inside. Both men moaned and held into each other's bodies, almost dazed by the feeling.

Harumasa did it again — two, three, four times until he managed to pick up the pace. The sound of their bodies pounding against each other filled the room along with the creaking of the bed.

His mouth hung agape, feeling the muscles around his core strain with the effort of each motion, while Wise still seemed lost in the sensation, unable to do anything but serve as his partner. "Y-you're such a pillow princess, a-aren't you, manager?" Harumasa gasped, feeling himself clenched around Wise.

The only answer was a raw, strangled cry from the man under him. He was clearly overwhelmed. Harumasa let out a breathless chuckle and shook his head slightly, as this was his idea and doing after all. And he wasn't feeling bad on his end, either. If anything, riding Wise made him feel the best he had felt that morning: the pleasure had him moving with renewed eagerness, with the hopes that this would finally work.

After a couple minutes bouncing on Wise's cock and having it prod against his swollen prostate, Harumasa started to feel close to his orgasm again. Each thrust inside his ass made his loins burn and tingle with that familiar anticipation that tormented him all morning.

He slowly reached for his dick again and jerked himself off along with the sway of his and Wise's hips. He closed his fingers around the sensitive tip, watching it leak and drip on top of Wise's stomach, like if it was almost, at the very edge of bursting. Wise, too, tightened his grip at Harumasa's waist and started to pull him back against his crotch, reaching deeper inside him. If he could keep this up, then maybe—

"H-Harumasa," Wise sobbed, acting like that name barely managed to escape his throat. "I-I'm close— h-hah, I'm going to come!"

Harumasa's legs tensed on their own as soon as he made sense out of Wise's words. He looked down at the proxy, still just at the verge of coming, but not quite there yet. Harumasa shook his head, fruitlessly trying to resist as Wise pulled him down against his cock. "W-wait, manager! You c-can't, please! H-hold on a little longer!"

He wasn't sure why, but something about Wise coming first made him feel desperate, almost in panic. Maybe it was jealousy, seeing the proxy achieve something he was so restlessly working for like that; or maybe it was just the uncertainty — what if Wise couldn't keep up anymore and went soft after coming? What if Harumasa was left hanging, at the very edge again?

He thought about slowing down or doing something else, but Wise groaned out loudly, not really willing to debate it. The proxy whined through gritted teeth, arching his back off the mattress as Harumasa refused to keep coming down. "W-we can try— hmph! S-something else! Just l-let me have this, I—"

"No!" Harumasa shook his head, strangling a moan at the back of his throat. "I-I still need more, you can't!"

This felt like nonsense, the absurdity of his situation made it almost comical in a way. Wise had been doing nothing but trying to help Harumasa orgasm for the past hour or so, but Harumasa still refused him the same favor. Part of him just didn't want to be the only one craving, aching for the climax — if he had to endure the denial, why couldn't Wise do it too?

But it wasn't like he could control the proxy. In fact, he could barely control himself. Harumasa felt Wise thrust even harder inside his ass, pushing in a way that had Harumasa drooling and seeing stars. Harumasa was too sensitive to even think properly, to the point of mindlessly searching for even the slightest of sensations that could push him over the edge before Wise finished inside him.

He sighed, looking down at the proxy one last time.

"M-manager," he bit his lip, unsure if he was even being heard, "t-tickle me, please! Just use your hands a-and I'll let you come," he said as if that was up to him to decide and not a simple matter of very little time.

"T-tickle?" Wise frowned slightly, clearly confused at the request, but lacked the concentration to ask about it or even confirm if he had heard it right. The idea sounded strange at that point, but if that would make Harumasa stop trying to edge him, he wouldn't question it. So, the proxy nodded, and his fingers that were simply holding Harumasa's body started to squeeze and pinch at his waist.

"F-fuhuck!" Harumasa choked on a giggle, his fingers clenching as tight as they could at Wise's shirt. As Wise's clumsy, uncoordinated fingers tickled at his sides and hips, Harumasa dropped his full weight on the proxy's lap, feeling his dick prod deep inside him again. "K-keep gohoing, aha— p-plehease!"

Harumasa didn't even remember the last time this thought had crossed his mind. It could be while he read one of those absurd fanfics about himself or just a weird porn video he stumbled upon during a long, lonely night. Getting tickled at bed, while having sex — a distant, almost absurd fantasy that laid dormant in the back of his brain. Still, why not try it as well at this point? Maybe this would be what did the trick, or even the awakening of something else inside him.

"Slow down, H-Harumasa," Wise gasped, trying to keep his hands latched onto the other's body. He kept squeezing, rubbing and drilling his thumbs at the spot where Harumasa's thighs met the rest of his body and hoped it would do the trick. "D-do you like this?" Wise managed to grin slightly, gently dragging his nails over the tender, reddened skin.

"S-shuhut up, a-ahh!" Harumasa moaned, a crooked smile pulling at his lips as he tried to balance himself on the proxy's lap. "J-juhust don't stohohop it!"

The feeling itself was hard to describe. It made him feel thrilled, almost elated as forced laughter poured past his lips, mingled with moans and needy gasps. Part of him wanted to smack Wise's hands away, stop the ticklish assault running loose over his body, but Harumasa didn't even dare to entertain such ideas. If anything, he wanted more — he wanted Wise's hands all over him, to be touched and teased non-stop while the proxy fucked him senseless.

He slowly stopped making sense of his surroundings and immersed himself into the sensations: the tickling that flared up his nerves and the pleasure that made his head spin. Harumasa finally let out a breathless 'yes' before he came, a large and warm load of his seed shooting from his cock and landing almost all the way up to Wise's face.

His body went limp for a second and he took his sweet time to come down from that blissful high. When he took note of himself again, he was panting on top of Wise's lap with sperm dripping down his ass cheeks and thighs.

"T-thank you, m-manager," Harumasa gasped, his vision still a little blurry. "I-I'm sohorry… I should've w-warned you—"

"I-it's fine," Wise nodded, sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead and his flushed skin gleam under the dim light of the bedroom. He lifted his hands to hold Harumasa's, both of them trembling as Wise's cock slid out of the other's ass.

Harumasa laid on his stomach by Wise's side, his legs starting to ache as if he had just finished a marathon. He chuckled to himself, barely minding the mess around his bed. "You did better than I thought— f-fuck, t-that was amazing…"

Wise rolled onto his side, the tenderness in his eyes unmasked as he stared at Harumasa's naked body.

Before silence could completely fill the room, just when their breathing was slowly becoming steadier again, Wise reached down and slid his fingers around the small of Harumasa's back, leaving a trail of goosebumps around the little path he traced.

Harumasa didn't say anything, his face still half pressed against the mattress while Wise continued his little experiment. When Harumasa thought he was getting used to the caresses, Wise poked at the spot at the bottom of his ribs and Harumasa jerked away as if he had been electrocuted.

"M-manager?!" Harumasa gasped, arms quickly wrapped around his side. "What was that for? You scared me!"

"Huh, you're actually ticklish," Wise muttered to himself and Harumasa gulped at the comment. "When did you find out you were into it?"

"What?! I-I'm not into anything, what are you talking about?"

"You asked me to tickle you," Wise explained, unbothered and tranquil like he always was. "Back then, when I was fucking—"

"H-hey, hey, hey!" Harumasa hushed, pushing a finger against Wise's lips. "No need to word it like that, manager. We had a moment together— something special." He frowned, turning around to face Wise. "Don't speak so casually of me. At least make me stand out from the rest."

"T-there is no 'rest'," Wise chuckled, nuzzling into Harumasa's hand. "But answer my question: are you into tickling, Harumasa?"

Harumasa huffed and rolled his eyes at the question, feigning annoyance. "It was just for the moment, why are you so fixated on it— ahAHA! M-manager!"

"Where else are you ticklish?" Wise insisted, his tone suddenly more playful as his fingers wiggled against Harumasa's bare side. "Under your arms? Maybe your feet?"

"Wise, stohohop— wait! I-I sahahaid stop it!"

It didn't take Wise a lot of effort to win their little wrestling. Despite his pants tangling up around his legs, there wasn't a lot in his way considering how worn out his partner was. Before he knew it, Harumasa was trapped under his weight — laughing, almost screaming, as Wise's fingers kneaded and squeezed around his ribs.

"You didn't answer me," Wise cooed, scratching the soft skin with the tips of his nails, "why do you like tickling so much? You sound like you're dying right now."

Harumasa whined, dealing little-to-no-damage as he punched Wise's shoulders in an attempt of retaliation. "B-BecahAHause I ahaham!!" He threw his head back, his arms pressing down against his sides as hard as he could to stop Wise's fingers from finding any other ticklish spot.

This was awful, an even bigger disaster if anything. From all the things that had happened this morning, why was it tickling that captured Wise's attention? Harumasa let out an annoyed groan through the laughter and tried to roll back on his stomach. He tried to crawl away, only to be stopped by Wise tickling him under his arm.

"Do you like this? Should I do it harder? Or gentler?"

"YOHOHOU— ahahah, y-yohohou should stohop it, you jeheherk!" Harumasa whined, scrunching up his shoulders as Wise spoke against his ear. The manager laid himself over Harumasa's back, each of his hands nestled under one of Harumasa's arms as he tickled wherever he could reach.

"Come on," Wise chuckled, starting to see the charm behind this whole tickling-thing. "Didn't you call me for help with this?"

"T-that's dihihifferent, you—"

"Harumasa," Wise stopped, his fingers suddenly still against Harumasa's body, "your phone is ringing."

"W-what?" Harumasa sighed. He blinked a few times, coming back down to his senses, and noticed the device vibrating nearby, the screen lit up. 'Deputy Chief Tsukishiro'. "S-shit, I need to pick that up!"

He pulled himself closer to the corner of the bed and took the call as soon as he reached his phone. "H-hello, Deputy Chief!"

"Hi, Asaba. Are you feeling any better?" She sighed softly on the other side of the line, "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I think I may have sounded a little too rough and—"

"AHah—" Harumasa squealed before he could muffle his laughter against the mattress. He looked over his shoulder and saw one of Wise's hands moving over his side. "I-it's fihihine!"

"…are you laughing?"

"N-no! Noho, no no! Not ahahat all!" Harumasa clenched his jaw, trying to hit Wise with his free hand. "J-just dehealing with some ahannoying thiHIhings!"

"I see," Yanagi sighed and Harumasa could almost see her eyebrow twitching with anger. She was going to work him to death for this. "You seem better, in any case. I'll be counting on you again from tomorrow onwards, then. There is a lot of work left to do—"

"WAHahait, w-wahait, Depuhuty Chihief!" Harumasa gasped, both hands clenched around his phone while he tried to curl himself into a ball to escape from Wise's tickling. "I-I mihight need another daHAhay! I-I cohouldn't get an appointment with my doHOHoctor!"

"I'm sure our medical team will have any problem solved, Asaba. Rest for the remainder of the day. We will talk more tomorrow."

"D-deputy Chihief! J-Just a secohond—"

The call ended after a small, almost quiet click. Harumasa felt his heart drop and, worse, Wise's hands picked up the pace. He couldn't even process the fact that he would have to go back to the office the next day before he started to laugh again. "M-MAhanager! S-she got mahad at me!"

"I'm sure you're fine," Wise chuckled, pinning Harumasa's hands against the mattress. "Besides, I heard she let you off for the rest of the day, so let me take care of you, okay? ~"

A lofty breeze wafted through the grove and the ‘ting’ of rustled wind chimes gradually grounded Phainon to his senses. Yet even still, images of his own experiences kept him afloat in the clouds. Soft pouted lips he could almost taste, delicate fingers that held his own, whispers of a collected voice grazing his ear — the very image of him materialized in Phainon’s thoughts, lulling his bones into soothing heat. He slumped back onto the bench, Castorice’s scroll barely in hand, longful stares stretching across the distance. Should he drop by again? Would he be happy to see him again so soon? Phainon didn’t want to be a bother, he really didn’t, but just the thought of being close to him again brought his pulse racing, his head dizzying, his heart–

“Oh! Phainon!”

The familiar voice had him standing on edge and he just barely tucked the scroll into his shoulder bag as light footsteps approached him not far behind. “Ah, Hyacine!” he greeted with a swallow. “Was there something I can help you with?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing for me in particular, but I was looking for you,” Hyacine said with a nod. “I was just on my way back from the court and I ran into Professor Anaxa.”

A tinge of warmth unexpectedly made its way to the tips of Phainon’s ears.

“We chatted for a bit and- oh! He complimented me on my research paper regarding the medical uses of basic alchemy! I never thought once that I’d receive high marks from Professor Anaxa himself.”

“Oh, that’s great, Hyacine,” Phainon chuckled, scratching the back of his head, “but, ah, you said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, right, sorry! Professor Anaxa told me to tell you that he would like you to stop by his office if we happened to run into each other.”

Phainon blinked, struggling to string his thoughts together.

“Professor Anaxa wants to see me? Did he mention why?”

Because normally.. it was the other way around…

“He didn’t say anything about it, but he also seemed like he was in a good mood, so we can at least assume you’re not in trouble?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The drum of his heartbeat grew with each pulse. “Yeah, I’ll go see him. Right now? You think he wants to see me right now?”

“Oh, I-I’m not sure.” Phainon could barely make out what she was saying at this point. “But I’m sorry if I made you nervous. I promise he didn’t look upset or anything of the sort! I’m sure it’s not urgent.”

“I’ll go right now,” he hurriedly decided on his own, grabbing his belongings as he set off. “Thank you, Hyacine!”

“Oh, okay then,” she called after him, yet her voice hardly reached his ears, “and good luck!”

Professor Anaxa wanted to see him. Those words repeated over and over, echoing inside Phainon's head as he walked down the crooked stairs. From all things that could've happened, it was the wildest one of his dreams that came into reality. Maybe the titans did favor him this time, he thought.

This wouldn't be the first time Phainon got to spend time in Anaxagoras’ office. Ever since he dared to cross a few lines and disregard a couple of student-professor relationship boundaries, Phainon also obtained a few privileges that his colleagues wouldn't even think of. He could carry Anaxa's belongings to his room, stay over while he reviewed and graded projects and, if he was lucky, even spend the night in Anaxa's bedroom while the professor conducted his experiments. One time, they even shared the same bed before Anaxa had to go back to his classes – was there any greater honor?!

However, Phainon always had to take the first step and ask Anaxa for it. He couldn’t remember one time that it had been the other way around before. Maybe he finally managed to melt the icy layers surrounding Anaxa’s heart?!

Phainon shook his head, focused on keeping himself anchored to the reality at hand. He had already taken the wrong turn twice while daydreaming and if it happened again, there was no doubt he would be late for his meeting. By the Dawn's Device light, he needed to calm himself down or he would get scolded as soon as he stepped foot in the lab, but how could he not feel like a little boy riding a dromas for the first time?!

Step after step, his expectations about Anaxa's motives continued to spiral inside his head. There was an array of endless possibilities, from mere assistances in his studies to–

“Wait…” Phainon muttered, his hand clenched around the handle of his bag. He lowered his head, his eyes locked on a specific scroll that laid casually between his notes. Could it be? Had his time finally come?

He needed to check it, both to clear his suspicions and to prepare himself for what this meeting could become. Phainon pressed his back against a nearby wall and checked his surroundings to make sure he had the hallway to himself alone. He reached for Castorice's works again, rolling the baton back to an earlier part of the story.

“Doctor– no, professor,” the smaller man purred at the door, standing on the tips of his toes as he held himself barely an inch away from the frame. ‘I brought the materials you requested for your lesson. Could you let me in?’ The door clicked open after an eternity that lasted merely a few seconds. The tall, almost intimidating figure revealed itself on the other side. The coldness from his sharp, methodical gaze, however, felt like the first flake of stone after a nice night of sleep instead of the biting frost of a mountain's wuthering heights. The professor looked down, staring into the student's eyes. ‘Come in, you little peacock. I was waiting for you.’”

That was it! Phainon clenched the scroll against his chest and sighed, the corners of his lips pulled up into a wide grin. Castorice… not only did you excel in the craft of these stories, but could you also be gifted by the Veil of Evernight’s visions of the future?!

The more Phainon read it, the harder it was to not look at the “coincidences” between fiction and reality. A sudden invitation near the end of the semester, a student that stood out during classes, a harsh professor that was actually caring on the inside… If it weren't for the recurring mentions of the story's professor's physique, Phainon would start to assume the character was "inspired" by Anaxa himself.

He giggled and carefully tucked the story back inside his bag. Phainon resumed his walk, getting to the sages’ area inside the Grove. 

The students’ voices could barely be heard from these heights and noises from the nature surrounding the buildings started to fill the silence instead. Phainon looked around, seeing signs and labels from different schools and searching for the one that he held in a special place inside his heart. “There,” he muttered, climbing the last steps before knocking on the door. He felt shy and his heart pounded like a drum inside his chest – titans, he was going to faint. “P-professor– ahem, professor Anaxa? Can I come in?”

“The door is unlocked.”

Phainon didn’t need anything else; his fingers moved of their own accord and he barely registered the creak of the door hinge as Professor Anaxa came into full view, the scholar’s slender frame hunched over his desk without even looking up for a greeting and Phainon knew. Attempting to disturb Professor Anaxa as he was engrossed in his work would only lead to harsh scolding.  “The literature is fascinating,” Professor Anaxa would always say should Phainon attempt to get his attention, the one and only warning he would receive.

So he waited, as he often did – excitedly, of course.

He settled into his spot by the small bookshelf in the corner of the cramped office space, pretending to take interest in the newest novel placed haphazardly along the top shelf, imagining the paperback cover against Professor Anaxa’s fingers as he absorbed the material while nuzzled into Phainon’s chest. Or the equipment laid out by the professor’s feet – machinery Phainon had never seen before – and he could already hear Professor Anaxa’s voice monologuing about a mechanism unknown to Phainon, but it’d be okay because Phainon would get to massage Professor Anaxa’s skin as he spoke, worshipping the fine lines that made up the professor’s body under his own hands. The scattered documents would be neatly tidied onto the weathered mahogany desk and Professor Anaxa would thank him for his help – maybe even something more – and Phainon’s head buzzed at the very thought.

“Ever the impatient one, aren’t you?”

Phainon blinked – so caught in his daydreams that he hadn’t even noticed the glance his professor had offered him. “O-Oh, I was just–”

“Your foot would not stop tapping the floor.”

And he was still doing it, he just realized, and his body stiffened when chastised. But it wasn’t his fault! Professor Anaxa was the one that wanted to see him; how come he had to wait patiently in the corner?! Surely those ancient scripts couldn’t be more interesting than him–

No, no, he shouldn’t harbor those kinds of thoughts. If Professor Anaxa was busy, then he should respect that..

But surely a little budge wouldn’t hurt.

“Professor Anaxa,” he spoke without fully thinking, “you said you wanted to see me, yes? I ran into Hyacine earlier and that’s what she told me, but maybe I misheard? But if I was wrong then–”

“You were not mistaken, no,” Anaxa said with what Phainon was sure was the slightest hint of amusement, “but it’s not of particular precedence, I should say.”

Phainon’s stomach withered.

“I’m not?”

“You did not strike me as the impetuous type,” Anaxa continued, “so I thought I would have more time to my day. Alas–”

Oh titans, he was being a disturbance – a nuisance. Of course someone as busy and smart and talented as Professor Anaxa would never think of sparing a second on someone like him. He should just leave; he really was wasting Professor Anaxa’s time with what he was sure Professor Anaxa considered senseless babble–

“Phainon!”

The voice snapped him back so easily that he was stunned for the moment.

“Must I continue to repeat myself?” Professor Anaxa no longer seemed the slightest bit amused. “Come here.”

“P-Pardon?”

“Come. Here.”

Phainon shifted slightly in his place, unable to properly move forward or simply stay. Professor Anaxa normally would’ve kicked him out of his room. Anything else, Phainon thought, probably meant danger to his physical integrity. He shouldn’t listen to his professor, but what if he was wrong? Professor Anaxa would get even angrier and that wasn’t good either.

“‘By all means’,” Anaxa sighed and leaned his chin on top of his hand, “‘move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me’."

“I-I apologize, professor,” Phainon gasped, his lips turned into an awkward smile as he stepped forward. His body acted like it was his first time walking, as if it hadn’t had its legs since forever. 

Anaxa rolled his eye at the scene, pushing himself up into his feet with a loud, clearly annoyed groan. “You’re truly, utterly helpless, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae,” he muttered as he closed the distance between them and met Phainon halfway towards his desk. “Is that why you seek me so desperately? To see whatever I can make out of this mess?” He looked up to his student, smirking.

Whatever words Phainon could think of found themselves stuck at the back of his throat. The lack of distance between him and his professor made it hard to think, to even remember Castorice’s works that were supposed to serve as a guide to him. Phainon watched as his own breathing made some small strands of Anaxa’s hair sway gently; he admired how soft his skin looked and how beautiful Anaxa’s features were.

If he were to follow the stories by the letter, this should be the part where he confessed. There was some sort of softness in Anaxa’s eye that made Phainon more comfortable, as if it was giving him the room to make his own move. He pressed his lips into a few lines and hummed a nervous chuckle — despite how angry he looked just a moment ago, Anaxa seemed amused now, eager even. 

“P-professor Anaxa, I– ah!”

Phainon widened his eyes as a shiver ran up his spine. The sensation made his mind turn blank for a second, as if it silenced each and every one of his thoughts. He couldn’t help it but to look down at the space between his and Anaxa’s body, from where he felt like that feeling came from. “P-professor— hmmph?!!”

His trembling hands slowly closed around Anaxa’s shoulders, unsure of what he should do. Before Phainon could understand it, Anaxa had tugged at his clothes like an owner to its chimera’s leash and pulled him down into a kiss. It was happening faster than Phainon expected it to, than he ever thought it would. And as if that wasn’t enough on its own, Anaxa was touching his—

“P-Professor!” Phainon whined as he pulled his lips apart, his cheeks burning into a deep shade of red. He tried to step back, but Anaxa followed after him and pushed Phainon against a nearby shelf. “W-wait, what are you doing?!”

“What else? Now stop moving, don’t make it a hassle,” Anaxa smirked. He stood on the tip of his toes and stole another kiss from his student’s lips, savoring the soft moans and cries that Phainon made at the mere palming against his crotch. “Tch,” Anaxa mocked, “you’re terrible at this.”

“I- ah! W-wait a second— hngh!”

By the Dawn Device’s light, what was going on? Phainon tried to gasp for air, but it felt like Anaxa wanted to suffocate him into a kiss. He felt small tears forming at the corner of his eyes and his body simply refused to listen to him, too shaken by the pleasure and the adrenaline to even think of reacting.

Anaxa pressed the heel of his hand against Phainon’s crotch and took the opportunity to push his tongue inside his student’s mouth. He laughed at Phainon’s obvious conflict and distress, only moving back when he felt like Phainon was about to collapse on top of him. “H-hah… I didn’t expect you to leave all that eagerness behind in class, Phainon,” Anaxa purred, his fingers gently clenched around the other’s clothed cock. “Do not disappoint me any further, please.”

“B-But professo–” His voice cut off as a moan made its way to the top of his throat, driven by pleasure Phainon didn’t quite understand. His legs were a different kind of motionless than earlier, heavy yet barely there, detached from the rest of his body. Another whimper ripped from his mouth and he hardly registered the movements his lower body made under Anaxa’s hand, pressing into the other man’s fingers as if this is where he belonged, no longer in control of himself.

“There we go,” Anaxa breathed into him and Phainon’s body shuddered accordingly. “Good boy. Such a natural.”

And Phainon’s ears burned red as a result; he no longer had the sense to deny it at this point. The moans were given not taken, melding into gasps and velvet whimpers and the pressure in his groin no longer exhibited foreign pain, only blind need.

What was happening to him?

He didn’t get the chance to answer – Professor Anaxa pulled away and Phainon had to put effort into breathing again.

“There’s potential here,” Anaxa wiped his lips, the uncovered smirk sending a flash through Phainon’s legs, “but you need work. Let me ask you, Phainon, do you have any particular interests?”

Interests? Phainon blinked but he caught the frown before he could put two and two together.

“Kinks. Fetishes.” Professor Anaxa scoffed and Phainon felt a pang to the side of his head. “Anything that makes you–”

“I-I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Enough with the act.” The austerity was enough to make Phainon flinch. “You are a grown man, yes? There’s no reason to be coy here.”

“B-But,” Phainon clenched his fist and his mind blanked; he could already imagine his professor’s reactions, “I-I can’t think of anything.”

And Phainon nearly shrank under the other’s gaze the moment Professor Anaxa raised an eyebrow. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

He never felt so small.

“Surely there must be something wired in that pretty head of yours,” Anaxa insisted, almost scolding him. “Or are you going to say you touch yourself to the thought of rainbows and sunshine?”

“I just,” he breathed in and out, “I just don’t have experience. I-I don’t really.. do that stuff.”

…

Silence.

Phainon dared to look his professor in the eye and held still at the glint in his eye, the growing smile that warmed his spine with unease.

“We can fix that,” Anaxa finally said with a laugh.

Fix? Was there something wrong with him? But Anaxa had already spun on his heel and Phainon felt his chest tighten at the lack of proximity and he found himself stepping forward to the desk where the other man stood, turning back to look at Phainon with that same shrewd expression.

“This hadn’t turned out to be the kind of fun I was hoping for,” Anaxa explained while taking his place at the edge of the desk, “and your lack of experience is quite clear.”

“Sorry...”

Anaxa simply waved him off. “But that’s precisely what people like me are for. We can start slow, something like…”

Phainon observed as his professor trailed off in deep thought, curiosity admittedly tugging at his brain, but the wait was short-lived and Anaxa cocked his head, eying Phainon with a knowing glance.

“Tickling,” he nodded. “We can try tickling.”

Something about his expression must’ve given his confusion away as Anaxa sighed before Phainon could even think of anything to say. “Sorry, t-tickling?”

“Yes, tickling,” Anaxa repeated as he fiddled with the hem of Phainon’s clothes, barely bothered to look him in the eyes. “Why? Scandalized already?”

“N-no! But… isn’t it a little c-childish? I mean, is that… a fantasy of yours, professor?”

For the first time in the night, and maybe in a good while, Phainon heard Anaxa laugh. Even if was out of mockery, he couldn’t help the feeling of his heart skipping a beat at that sweet, but slightly unnerving sound. “What do you take me for, Phainon? Aren’t I the said ‘blasphemous’?”

Phainon clenched his jaw as Anaxa suddenly seemed closer than before. He could feel how his professor’s fingers tugged at his clothes and promptly stepped forward. As their legs pressed together, Phainon felt a shiver course through his spine, one that made him abandon any questions about Anaxa’s proposal.

“As long as it makes me feel good, Phainon, anything will do it. Even mundane… or ‘childish’ things such as tickling. Understood?”

He nodded and swallowed, unconsciously holding his breath for a moment. “Y-yes, professor.”

Anaxa smiled. “Good,” he hummed and slid his hands up Phainon’s body. The latter flinched, and even closed his eyes shut, expecting a certain ticklish touch that never came. Instead, Anaxa wrapped his arms around Phainon’s neck and leaned his weight into him.

“Ah! C-careful, Professor Anaxa–”

“Come on, now, don’t leave me waiting,” Anaxa purred before he kissed the curve of Phainon’s jaw. “Must I teach you how to do this as well? Do you want me to tell you where I’m sensitive, too?” He chuckled softly before he planted another kiss against Phainon’s heated skin.

A soft, barely contained whine was the only answer Phainon could give him. He was hugging his professor, holding him, in fact. He had wrapped his arms around Anaxa’s slim frame and breathed against the other man’s ear, smelling the faint notes of his scent. These were enough to overwhelm his poor, young lover’s heart, but he couldn’t stop just then. Anaxa wanted more, demanded more from him.

Just tickling, he could do that, Phainon repeated inside his head and nodded to himself.

He moved his fingers, slowly, and traced the back of Anaxa’s ribs. He scratched at the spot, listening carefully to any reaction from the other. “...Are you ticklish here, professor?”

“Pfft,” Anaxa scoffed, definitely not the sound Phainon was hoping to hear. “Have you ever tickled anyone?”

“O-of course I have! Just… not like this…”

“Just tickle me, Phainon,” Anaxa taunted, his voice low and close to Phainon’s ear. He pressed his fingers into his student’s back and leaned even more of his weight into Phainon’s large, strong frame. He stretched himself out like a cat, posing himself vulnerable just for Phainon’s restless, nervous hands. “Please,” Anaxa chuckled before he bit down at Phainon’s earlobe, “give me something else to laugh about besides this poor performance of yours.”

And Phainon whined again at the demand, this time with his dick throbbing and pressing up against his trousers. His hands moved almost on their own, they slid around Anaxa’s body so his fingers could tease and wiggle against the exposed, unprotected skin under his professor’s arms. “S-stop provoking me, professor Anaxa… you should be nicer to your students.”

Anaxa pressed his forehead against the top of Phainon's chest, and he shuddered as annoyed, but genuine laughter started to make it past his stubbornness. “Y-you– hah, you gohot the nerve tohoh– hngh, to speak back to me, Phahainon of Aedes E-Elysiae?” Anaxa giggled through a crooked smile, his fingers clenched around the back of his student’s clothes. “This is nohothing, heh. I ehexpected muhuch better from you~”

Phainon frowned at the mockery, curling his hands against Anaxa’s skin. “You– are you not so ticklish, p-professor? Are you playing me right now?” 

How could he possibly be messing this up? It was tickling, what else was his professor expecting? Anaxa was making it harder for him on purpose, Phainon thought, but not for long as he was distracted with a kiss against his cheek. “I’m ahawfully… s-sensitive for my lihiking,” Anaxa huffed, tiptoeing to reach and continue to whisper at Phainon’s ear, “but you’re mehediocre at behest, heh.”

“I’m trying–! I’m really trying!” And he really did with the quick jab delivered to the side in hopes of catching his professor off-guard, but his efforts were met with a subtle “mmph!” rather than a squeal he was hoping for.

“Alright, enough, enough,” Anaxa pulled away with a huff of what Phainon could only sense was mild irritation.

“M-Maybe we could try something else then?”

“No, if you cannot handle even this, I fear your performance with anything else.” Phainon stumbled back as Anaxa slid off the edge of the desk, hanging his head low. “But there’s always a solution to every problem. Switch places with me.”

“...Huh?”

Switch??

“Yes, you, on the table.”

“But how is that supposed to improve–”

His mouth shut on instinct the moment his professor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “No, I will show you how to do things properly. Understand?”

“W-Wait, professor, what do you mean by that?” The shock stumbled out of his mouth but his mind had already made the connection. “I-I’m not sure this is the right way to go about this and I’m really ticklish–”

“Even better.”

“No, professor,” he pleaded with his eyes, but Anaxa was already stepping around to the other side, trapping Phainon between him and the desk and his damned body refused to listen to him, one step back as Anaxa took his one step forward.

“Professor, p-please, you really don’t want to tickle me–”

“I actually really do.”

“No, I-I might kick you and you’ll get hurt-”

“Then all the more reason for you to learn.”

“P-Professor–”

His butt hit the side of the table.

Anaxa’s front brushed against his groin and his breath hitched.

He was trapped.

His body had practically gone limp the moment Anaxa pressed further and Phainon sat back onto the desk, ensnared by his professor’s enthusiastic gaze. “You’re shaking,” his voice dripped with hunger.

And he couldn’t stop if he wanted to – Anaxa’s body was practically on top of his and their entwined breaths pulsed in his ears and Phainon’s mind went into a haze. He hardly registered the finger lifting to the side of his face, tracing the side of his ear and trailing along his jawline and Phainon found himself pressing his chin into Anaxa’s palm – for comfort or longing, he wasn’t sure. There was a note of amusement as the tip of his professor’s finger caressed the underside of his chin, only to disappear altogether.

Phainon barely caught the snicker in Anaxa’s voice.

“You’re going to do so well.”

Had he not blinked, Phainon would’ve detected the other hand creeping towards his side and his eyes popped open at the sensation. It was just a tingle, a flicker of exploratory purpose, but his body writhed away without command, twisting away from his professor.

“My… just from this?” The twinkle in Anaxa’s eye was enough to send a trickle down Phainon’s spine.

“N-No, professor, I-I can’t,” he whined as he felt a slight tug at his black shirt, the occasional finger managing to poke through the thin mesh. “P-Please..”

“Just breathe,” Anaxa cooed, but the slip of fingers underneath his shirt prompted Phainon’s body to jump, the desk rattling underneath him and the press of fingers into bare skin resulted in a low keen.

“HaaHh..”

His stomach trembled, his core moving as if it would find a way out or a manner to evade the offense. Anaxa continued to toy with him: one, two, three digits brushed gently against the skin, alarming and flaring up his nerves. This was a matter of time, a losing battle against himself and his professor. Phainon knew he was too ticklish to play it cool now.

“This is rather amusing,” Anaxa commented, watching Phainon’s muscles jump at the mere tease, “now… let it out– no, laugh it out.”

That was the one request that Phainon didn’t want to oblige. He held onto the edge of the table as if his life was on the line, when in reality he simply didn’t want to laugh like an idiot in front of his professor. Phainon felt the corners of his lips curling up as Anaxa’s fingers wiggled against his side and struggled to keep the giggles from spilling out.

He pressed his eyes shut out of instinct, as if that was going to make the ticklish feeling go away. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would be able to hold it together; to ignore Anaxa’s hand prodding at the bottom of his ribs with a curiosity that was, one day or another, surely going to get him killed.

Phainon let out a shaky breath, the table softly creaking under his grip. “I-I gehet it now, prohofessor AhanahAH– A-Anaxa! Y-you cahan stohop!”

“First,” Anaxa hissed and squeezed Phainon’s side, making his student jump and let out a loud squeal. “It’s Anaxagoras, how many times must I repeat myself? Second, this is no mere demonstration, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. There is plenty more for you to learn, so stay put, yes?”

“NOhoh! No, p-prohofessor– ahAHa!”

Phainon found himself curling over Anaxa’s body, almost laying his head on top of his professor’s shoulders. Anaxa’s fingers found a way to nestle themselves against his ribs – tickling, pinching, stroking. Whatever he did, Phainon couldn’t help himself, struggling to even stand on his own.

“Stand still,” Anaxa reprimanded him, ceasing the tickling for just a moment to push Phainon back in place. “Do I have to tie you up?” He grinned, his student’s chest waving as he tried to catch up his breath.

“P-Professor Anax– ahem, A-Anaxagoras, just a m-moment, please!”

“Sigh, speak.”

“I-I don’t know if I like being tickled! I-It feels w-weird and I– hmmph!” Phainon widened his eyes, caught off guard by Anaxa’s palm against his lips. 

Anaxa, however, didn’t seem angry at him despite the sternness in his voice just now. With his student’s attention for himself alone, he slid his other hand down Phainon’s body to grope at the tent in his pants again. This time, Anaxa’s fingers curled around the erection, massaging it slightly.

“You ‘don’t like it’? Your body tells me otherwise,” he murmured, feeling Phainon’s hot breath against his head and savoring the muffled gasps and mewls. “Don’t worry, we will fix that. I’ll make sure you’ll love it by the Lucid Hour, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.”

“H-hmmph?”

“Please, don’t act like I’m making some sort of offense. Let’s say I… want to help my favorite student experience some profanity.”

If he could just.. control his bodily urges, Phainon would have let himself linger on the “favorite student” comment, but his professor robbed him of that, pressing his fingers methodically into Phainon’s cock that had the younger shift desperately in place.

“Now, I’m going to give you a choice,” Anaxa paused with his peerless gaze, undoubtedly enraptured with Phainon’s state. “I’ll grant you the honor of picking our next area of focus.”

P-Picking?!

He whined with apprehension and Anaxa slowly removed his hand from Phainon’s mouth, though the other remained vigilant at his groin. “Professor, p-please, I-I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” Anaxa leaned in closer and Phainon writhed at the slight squeeze, “or would you prefer I help you decide?” And with a pause, “you might not like what I choose.”

His breath turned shallow as he recounted potential choices, but titans, Phainon was ticklish pretty much everywhere as far as he could remember. Choosing anything might as well be a death sentence for him, but he didn’t have much time, as Anaxa drummed against Phainon’s inner groin impatiently.

“M-My..” his voice stammered, awash with uncertainty, “my…. stomach?”

“Oh? You’ve made an excellent choice.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he, in fact, had not.

But Anaxa had already made up his mind, lifting his hand from Phainon’s thigh to graze against the edge of Phainon’s shirt in delicate motion, so light that it could be mistaken for air. Something about this was different; something about this was enough to make Phainon shudder.

“Too late to turn back down, my dear student,” Anaxa muttered, as if listening to Phainon’s thoughts. “But I’m going to enjoy this.. and so will you.”

The sensation hit him faster than he could register; his body reacted without command and a squeal leapt from his throat. He tried to collapse back against the desk in an attempt to outmaneuver the hand digging into his skin, but Anaxa’s free hand simply grasped his shirt tightly, easily drawing Phainon back to him.

“P-Profehehesohor! Plehehease!”

And this only seemed to drive Anaxa further, as Phainon threw his head back in laughter once both hands reached for his stomach under his shirt, kicking his legs against the desk. “Do you feel it?” Anaxa spoke, hunger laced through his teeth. “Do you feel the insatiable urge in the hollows of your nerves? The precipice of awakening? Do you feel it yet, Phainon?”

And Phainon’s head started to spin – he wasn’t sure if it was the constant tickling leaving him without breath to think or the loss of thought in regard to Anaxa’s questioning, but something was.. off… and through his laughter he finally realized.

Despite all his complaints and the hassle Anaxa’s hands had put him through, Phainon was still rock hard; leaking, even. He felt his dick throb in response to the ticklish feeling that made his head spin and cheeks hurt with laughter. “I– ahah! I-I dohohon’t knohow?! P-profehehessor, it feehehels weheheird!”

“Sigh, forget it,” Anaxa shook his head and pried at Phainon’s shirt, further exposing his stomach. His hands clawed at the toned, clenching muscles around his student’s navel, and then dug into his sides, which seemed to be just as sensitive. “We will get you to figure it out on your own, eventually.”

Phainon could only squeak like a dromas’ toy, squirming in the little room he had left as Anaxa’s fingers teased and tormented every inch of skin around his midriff. And had that not been enough to overwhelm him and render him completely useless, Anaxa’s thigh had also taken the room between Phainon’s legs, pressing his erection whenever the student dared to think of interfering with the tickling.

“T-Tihitans– I-I cahan’t breheheathe!” Phainon laughed, tossing his head back as giggles and something akin to moans poured from his lips like wine from Phagousas’ chalice. It was useless to fight it or argue against his professor: all Phainon could and had to do was to stay still to be toyed with, guided to some strange agonizing pleasure that only Anaxa could provide.

He squeezed Anaxa’s legs between his, grinding his crotch against Anaxa’s thigh as much as possible while the skin of his stomach slowly turned red from the constant touching, squeezing and scratching. “P-professor”, Phainon gasped, the air unbearably hot around his collar, “e-ehehenough tihickling, p-please! Ahah– I-I cahan’t anymohore!”

“Nonsense,” Anaxa purred, his hands just below the hem of Phainon’s riled up shirt, “you’re at your prime, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, I’m sure you can take much more. If you ask me, you even look… a little better like this, under distress.”

Should he take that compliment, Phainon wondered and sighed in relief as the tickling came to a halt. He wasn’t sure if that was another of Anaxa’s comments filled with second and third meanings and hidden mean remarks, but just the gentler, kind tone was enough for him to buy it. “D-do you– hah, do you t-think I look good, professor?”

“Yes,” Anaxa chuckled, his hands slowly climbing up Phainon’s body. He reached for Phainon’s chest and rubbed the sides of the hard muscles with his thumbs, feeling the warmth and dampness of the skin. “You’re very handsome, Phainon.”

Phainon had to bite his inner lip to hold back his reaction. He felt his whole body shudder, something burning inside his chest and making his loins tingle at the sound of that word. He feared he would faint if Anaxa spoke of him like that again. Phainon could only let out a soft cry, words and feelings stuck at the back of his throat.

“With that being said,” Anaxa continued just as Phainon opened his mouth to skip. The professor curled his fingers at the sides of Phainon’s chest like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. “I assume you understand why we can’t stop just yet, yes?”

The feeling struck him like lightning. Anaxa’s fingers dug into the creases under Phainon’s arms and laughter filled the whole room again in a matter of seconds, if not faster. Phainon clasped his arms down against his body and held onto Anaxa’s shoulders, trying to stop his professor’s hands from keep tickling him there.

“W-WAHAIT! AHAhah, t-that’s nOHohot my stomahAHAH!!!” Phainon cackled, even letting some of his weight on Anaxa’s leg that still stood between his own. “P-proHOhofehessor!!”

“I’m well aware,” Anaxa scoffed, wiggling his fingers as much as he could into the soft skin. He decided to spare Phainon from the remark about his posture, there was just so much he could rely on his student, after all. “But I never said I’d limit myself to your choices, did I? That was merely for us to start, Phainon.”

The difference between an introductory and an advanced ‘class’ had never been so clear. Anaxa’s tickles suddenly felt more intense, rough as if he wanted Phainon to melt into a laughing puddle. The feeling stole the air from his lungs and forced it out in sheer, panicked giggles.

He was physically stronger than his professor, that’s for sure, but the tickling rendered him defenseless, vulnerable in a way that even the strength Phainon was so proud of seemed to have left his body. He couldn’t fight it anymore; he could just sob and laugh at Anaxa’s mercy – which Phainon started to doubt the existence of.

“At least pretend to suffer if you’re going to beg me like that,” Anaxa mocked, lifting his thigh against Phainon’s crotch again. “It won’t convince me when you’re this aroused,” he leaned closer, making sure he would be heard even through all the noise coming from his student.

As scandalized as he was by the thought, he couldn’t deny it. Despite how ticklish it felt and how much he tried to push Anaxa away, Phainon was still humping the other man’s leg like an animal in heat.

His dick was still hard, throbbing and even leaking under the friction and stimulation Phainon could get from the motion. Against his better judgment, he didn’t want it to stop: he wanted Anaxa to keep tickling him, to rub himself harder against his professor, to have more of everything that he insisted to say that it was past enough.

This feeling stirred up inside him, hot and fluttering. He felt out of breath, drool pooling on the corner of his lips as he thrashed his head back and forth. Phainon gritted his teeth and a low, almost pained moan came out. He furrowed his brows and clenched his fingers on Anaxa’s arm, his body tensing up for a whole moment. 

When he finally dared to open his eyes, the room seemed to spin around them. All he could picture Anaxa smirking at him, a satisfied smile like the ones he made at his successful experiments.

“You had a good one, hm?” Anaxa purred, lightly tracing circles over Phainon’s highest ribs with the tips of his fingers. He rocked his leg up and down, making his student whine through the breathless laughter. “But you look so confounded, stunned as someone who just gazed upon a forbidden truth… are you not satisfied yet?”

“P-Professor, I-I..” Phainon’s voice croaked in his throat, caught between a mix of shame and a sense of relief he didn’t want to totally acknowledge, yet the emptiness starting at the pit of his stomach seemed to only grow the further Phainon spiraled back to reality. His mind slowly parsed through each sensation and only then did it finally hit him – did he really just–?

“Yes, Phainon, you did just come,” Anaxa’s voice cut in with an amused laugh, catching Phainon’s thoughts once more. “Wasn’t it invigorating? A new experience for you to withhold, no? I’m sure you must be appreciative.”

But Phainon could barely call this any of that. He just came in his pants – a grown man came in his pants from being tickled. He should feel mortified, but Phainon could quite literally not feel anything – not the breath in his ears, not the weight in his head, not even his professor between his legs – save for the stain in his pants. 

But the worst part?

It was the best orgasm of his life. A sensation so strong that made something shift inside Phainon’s head and heart, as if it made itself part of his very self. 

“What are your thoughts, hm?” Anaxa brought his hand to Phainon’s chin, forcing the other to look into Anaxa’s gaze. “Your reactions alone were telling enough, so I presume my performance was satisfactory.”

Phainon inhaled, filling his empty stomach with air where there used to be warmth, steadying his thoughts. “I-I’m not sure, professor.” He wanted to shift his line of sight, but Anaxa’s expectant stare stopped him in his tracks. “But it was different, I’m not sure how to explain it, a-and I started to feel fuzzy and–”

“Was it to your liking or not?”

“Y-Yes, professor!”

“Fantastic.” Anaxa nodded as if having mastered his greatest deed yet. “We will be sure to work on this in future sessions.”

“W-Wait, future sessions-?!”

“But for now,” Anaxa paused with what Phainon could only describe was a sigh of accomplishment, “I expect you to fully put your newfound experience to good use and reciprocate the favor.”

“Wait– huh?! Professor, I-I don’t think I’m ready for that yet–”

But Anaxa was already leaning forward and Phainon had no choice but to hold the smaller man in his arms as his professor shifted weight, pressing his growing erection into Phainon’s thigh.

“But my dear pupil,” Phainon’s skin crawled as Anaxa’s breath ghosted over the tattoo on his neck, “I have determined that you quite are.”

Phainon didn’t manage to question it or ask for further explanation. Anaxa seemed to have planned at least four steps ahead for their night and there was time to waste with uncertainty. As his student, all Phainon could do was to put up his efforts in not falling behind in the next lessons.

He could only retrieve his body to himself by the time the Entry Hour arrived. It was only then that he started to take note of his surroundings and realize that he was still not only at Anaxa’s bedroom, but at his very bed and laid next to him. It all felt like a feverish dream, some sort of illusion set by the Coin of Whimsy itself. If it wasn’t for the marks left on his and Anaxa’s skins, maybe Phainon would’ve started questioning his own memory, too.

But it was all real: from the moment he stepped inside his professor’s chambers to when he had to walk out of it wearing the same clothes he left a stain on. The giddiness, the raise, the fall and the shame. Those vivid emotions, now etched to his brain, were all backed up by facts and not mere fantasies anymore.

“Phainon of Aedes Elysiae,” Anaxa’s stern voice called out to him in reprimand. Phainon shook his head and opened his eyes wide as if he had been pulled from a dream. “Should the lecture not be to your liking,” Anaxa continued, idly pacing in front of the class, “come visit my office again after the Parting Hour. I’m sure I’ll have some other text that’ll tickle your fancy in my collection.”

Phainon felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of that word. He saw Anaxa smirking at him, fingers tapping against the podium, and Phainon’s mind did the rest by pulling the memories from his past ‘lessons’: him laughing out loudly and writhing in Anaxa’s bed as his professor tormented his body with the sweetest of agonies. The mere recollecting of those sensations was enough to make his loins flutter.

He swallowed thickly and pressed his legs together to cover the tent in his pants. “T-thank you, professor, b-but the lesson is fine as it is. Continue, please.”

“Very well,” Anaxa chuckled and resumed his speech to spare his favorite student from the class’ curious eyes.