Work Text:
Most Faithful Mirror
He wasted so much vital energy trying to convince me that I'm just like him.
(Though I would not call him a liar, I have concluded that this was a lie.)
Truthfully, it is him who is just like me.
Cuilang ran two steady hands over his lover's back; working out the knots in his tired muscles, marveling at the intricate arrangement of cords and scaffolds that held Subaru together and carried his precious soul through the beautiful, perilous world.
(Just another elaborate system.)
A system softer and more pliable than Cuilang's own—water given a semi-defined shape, like most living things—and alarmingly unstable at times, but a system all the same; matter and information, interlocking parts, actions and reactions.
(Another kind of machinery.)
His heart thrummed in his chest like the ticking of a well-made clock, slowing when his body prepared for sleep and speeding up as exertion or emotion required. No gears turned in his eyes, but there was a certain look he got when deep in thought that seemed to indicate the same inner experience. Every part of him served some function, even if that function proved fleeting or subtle.
A thousand processes woven into one; efficient and imperfect, a wild joy to see.
Cuilang particularly enjoyed witnessing the cascade of switches his slightest touch seemed to trip within him, traveling through the warm waters of his body like ripples on a tranquil pond.
"Mmm... Thanks, Lan-Lan. I needed this."
Subaru's breath hitched, the lattice of his ribcage momentarily cresting beneath smooth, scar-decorated skin before burying itself once more in the layers of wiry muscle that Cuilang reverently traced with the careful tip of an idle, curious finger.
"You pushed yourself to your limits acquiring my new Thunder Crystal. It's only right that I repay you."
He had returned just before dinnertime—just as Cuilang had begun to fear something might have happened—with a tired smile on his face and a sparking blue stone in his hand, his long hair drifting with static and his flowing dancer's clothes streaked with grime, insisting that Cuilang let the pot of curry simmer a while longer and gently settling him back on the futon, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin layer over his carved breastbone as he asked that painfully intimate question.
"Are you okay with opening the seam here tonight? Or should we..."
Cuilang wasn't sure, or perhaps more accurately wasn't sure if he was sure—increasingly, he was unsure of many things—but he wanted to be okay with it, for the sake of both his flagging energy and their growing love. So he bravely undid the ties of his house-robe and worked his fingers into his ersatz flesh, pulling apart the edges until his lover could access his chestplate and tenderly lift it, replacing the dimmed crystal with the bright one just as Cuilang had shyly shown him a few months prior.
"My thanks."
Quietly giddy with renewed energy, Cuilang wrapped himself in his robe and retired to the table to watch his lover eat. Later, as he cleaned the bowl until it sparkled and left the pot to soak, he asked if Subaru—who had worked so hard—might like a massage before bed.
It was, he figured, the least he could do.
(All I can give him.)
And though he knew he had given his all, Subaru still seemed troubled about something.
"Cuilang... I don't like that."
His soft sighs of pleasure flattened out to something tired and melancholy, a subtle note of dissatisfaction that made Cuilang's system bristle.
"I apologize. What do you not like?"
The thoughts were too quick and jumbled to parse; scattering and overlapping in the way that usually preceded a crash, the spiralling rush of feedback mercifully interrupted by the feeling of Subaru shifting beneath him, turning onto his back and gently cradling Cuilang's face in both warm hands.
"Thinking of it as an exchange like that. I know you think that's what you need to do to accept it without throwing errors, but how about we try... Doing things for each other just because? We'll be married soon, so you'll have to get used to that."
Cuilang relaxed into his touch as the buzzing ebbed within him, gazing down into those soulful amber eyes for as long as he could stand it before the beauty overwhelmed him and he had to look away.
(I apologize for everything I am.)
"As far as I know, replacing spent fuel is not a typical feature of married life."
Subaru laughed; effortlessly and heartrendingly musical as always, his callused fingers tangling in Cuilang's silken hair.
"What do you think you're doing when you cook for me?"
Another glance at those honey-warm eyes, and Cuilang's thoughts were racing again; imagery of signals running through nerves, tiny crackles of electricity, the trace minerals that kept them firing, the salted rice crackers and heavy jug of water he carried to the fields where his lover worked so tirelessly.
"I... Hmm..."
Before he could fall into the roiling maelstrom and the unforgiving darkness below, Subaru deftly caught him, easing them both down with a smile.
"...It's pretty simple. Don't overthink it."
Cuilang nodded, closing his jittering eyes and letting his head clear.
"Right. I've been striving not to overcomplicate things for myself."
When he opened them again, Subaru was still smiling.
"Good. I'm proud of you."
His cheeks were beautifully pink, and Cuilang pressed his hands to them, marvelling at their warmth.
"You are blushing with pride, then?"
Indeed, every inch of him was a marvel; from the heat of his skin, to the pulse at his neck, to the rise of his chest, to the long exhale of pleasure as Cuilang's hands wandered over him and took it all in.
"I'm blushing because you're pretty and good with your hands."
Cuilang glanced down at his hands, delicate and poised but eerily bloodless against Subaru's taut, tanned chest.
"My touch is cold."
Subaru gently took one of those hands, pressing it to his cheek and then his lips, panting hotly into Cuilang's cool dry palm.
"I don't care. No one else can make me feel like this."
With his free hand, Cuilang traced a slow line from throat to navel, feeling a thrilling shiver in his own steel spine as Subaru's back arched beneath him.
"You'd like me to continue?"
Opening his eyes just a crack—enough to gauge Cuilang's reaction, but not enough to dazzle him—Subaru gave a single languid nod.
"Yes."
Though he suspected he already knew the answer, Cuilang thought it was best to ask, if only for his own peace of mind.
"Continue on our current course, or with increased intimacy?"
Subaru laughed again, running a hand through Cuilang's hair and tenderly tucking that pesky stray lock behind his ear.
"Whatever you want, Lang."
Cuilang felt his cheeks flare—that poignant mimicry of human warmth—as the whirring rose once more in the hollow of his chest, the light of the fresh crystal seeping through the junctions in his chassis and pulsing a faint blue beneath his skin.
"I... Would like to experience intimacy with you tonight."
He glanced down at Subaru for a fraction of a second—all he could bear, never sufficient—and that flicker of a smile was enough to nearly fry his circuits then and there.
"You're such a charmer."
Though Subaru's voice was bright with incipient laughter, there wasn't the slightest hint of mockery or sarcasm to be found. There was no denying that he sometimes found Cuilang strange—occasionally amusingly so—but neither was there any doubt that he loved him wholly, peculiarities and all.
(He amuses you in turn, doesn't he?)
Indeed, Cuilang was beginning to suspect that there could be no real love without an accompanying shiver of laughter.
"My thanks. I am charmed by you as well."
An ephemeral, sparkling shiver—like sun on water—tumbling over itself in the stream of Subaru's silkily humid breath.
"Show me how much."
Cuilang felt a slight, crooked smile touch his pale lips. He still hadn't quite gotten the hang of laughter, but with such a joyful companion at his side, he was sure it would come to him in time.
"Lie back and allow me, and I will do my best."
Subaru's breath caught in his throat, one of his warm hands slipping over the cool silk of Cuilang's house-robe until their fingers automatically intertwined.
"...You'll let me show you too, right?"
Silently straining not to lose his composure to those glittering amber eyes, Cuilang gave him a single terse nod.
"If it does not disrupt my concentration too much. Now hold still."
So mesmerized that he could scarcely nod in return, Subaru relaxed beneath Cuilang's cool touch and sighed into the futon, pliable and finely built as any of the countless wooden dolls that had been made, unmade, and re-made by his careful capable hands.
But of course, there was no making anyone like him.
"Right. Sorry."
(Unmaking, however...)
It was something they would work on together.
"No apology required. If you're interested in a more active role tonight, you may warm my body before we begin."
Cuilang undid his sash and let the robe slip from his shoulders, clockwork already beginning to whirr at the gentle grip of callused hands around his waist.
"Mmm. Gladly."
In moments like these, Cuilang sometimes felt swallowed up by his own inadequacies; the unforgiving austerity of his cool, hard body, how unexciting it probably was to hold him.
(And what even is there to hold?)
Flesh—real flesh—had a sweet sort of give to it, a softness that readily cleaved to one's touch and made a comfortable, contoured handhold just about anywhere one might need to find one's grip. Even the spare, wiry body before him was endlessly accommodating, and it stung Cuilang's heart to know that he could never properly accommodate in return.
Not that Subaru ever seemed to mind.
As was often the case, Cuilang's cares dissolved like sugar in strong hot tea at the first brush of that warm, reverent cheek against the hard plane of his belly. Strong arms wound protectively around his waist, and soft lips tingled against the subtle electric field that gave feeling to Cuilang's delicate makeshift skin.
Subaru always said it was interesting to touch; subtly fuzzy despite a total lack of hair.
No hair, no navel, no frown or smile lines. Just a uniformly rubbery velveteen layer that kept the grit out of his joints, marred only by a handful of thin spots where he'd needed to re-melt the strange substance to close a tear.
Yet for some reason, Subaru seemed to cherish that uncanny smoothness simply because it was his.
He trailed gentle kisses from the rounded sockets of Cuilang's hips to the sleek ridge of his chest; those sensitive lips finding the junctures of abdominal plates beneath the skin and lingering there, the tip of a curious tongue fluttering out here and there just to tease him and hear that subtle clockwork crescendo.
"...Careful..."
Subaru paused, pressing a reassuring kiss to what would have been Cuilang's solar plexus, had he the fortune of being strung with real nerves.
"Am I going too fast?"
Truthfully, the pace at which he'd been going was exhilarating, and it was difficult to make him stop. But Cuilang had felt his tongue and lips gliding eagerly toward that delicate center line, and he needed to brace his system for what was probably coming next.
"It does seem I'm warming up more quickly than anticipated, though I am unable to determine if the cause is your actions or a high charge from the new crystal."
Subaru turned his cheek into the warmth building within Cuilang's chassis, nuzzling contentedly into the silky texture.
"Sorry. You're just... Gorgeous, Lang. I get a little lost in you sometimes."
Cuilang gently cupped the dome of his cranium and held him close, knowing no better way to make his desires known.
(Stay right where you are.)
"Understood."
It seemed they were alike in their understanding, for the kisses soon resumed, though the new slowness seemed only to generate more heat within Cuilang's chest, especially when Subaru's mouth finally found the thin, invisible seam.
Okay. Just...
...What am I thinking? I do not breathe.
It was the same seam they had opened earlier that evening, unseen when properly sealed but subtly palpable when you knew it was there. And now Subaru was tenderly tonguing that hidden cleft, gently lapping and swirling until Cuilang's head began to spin.
(How is this even possible?)
Though he'd been happily surprised to find that he could feel a pleasurable sense of comfort and connection from touch of many kinds, Cuilang had no specific erogenous zones, no curve or crevice of the body that felt especially different from any other.
That is, until his mind got involved.
And for one such as Cuilang, the mind was everything.
So he whirred and shivered in his lover's arms, at the mere idea of this delicate entry point—something so particular to himself and the way he was made—being made the subject of such tender, intimate worship.
"...You all right?"
He would have been happy to let it go on forever, but by now the heat was blurring his vision and making his ears ring.
"Yes. But I have determined this will be sufficient for now. Please lie back and allow me to proceed."
Subaru complied, his long hair shifting and tangling on the pillow as he tilted his head inquisitively and laid a hand on Cuilang's chest; palm flat against the warmed synthetic skin, the churning gears, the bright new crystal at the center of it all.
"Yeah, you're running a little hot. We can take a break, if you-"
Cuilang shook his head once, blinking hard and watching the hectic electricity of his brain as it sparkled against the stark black behind the delicate metal half-moons of his eyelids.
"Not necessary."
And when the darkness lifted and the sparks faded away, there was Subaru, relaxed and waiting for him.
"Whatever you say."
It was almost funny, how such a simple phrase could set his gears spinning again.
"Understood. Would you mind helping me warm my hand while we prepare?"
Knowing the routine by now, Subaru parted his legs with a casual obedience that made Cuilang's machinery sing.
"Of course not."
Moving slowly so the chill wouldn't startle him, Cuilang gently slipped his fingers into the shallow cleft where Subaru's groin met his tawny, sinewy thigh.
"My apologies if my extremities are still a bit cold."
He flinched a bit at Cuilang's touch, but it was obvious from the arch of his back and the hitch of his breath that it wasn't from the chill alone.
"You're fine."
Cuilang cocked his head exaggeratedly; a silly, self-parodying gesture that always made Subaru laugh.
"As in well-made?"
And laugh he did, bathing Cuilang's pale face in soft damp breath as they drew close enough for their noses to brush.
"Never let anybody tell you you have no sense of humor."
How Cuilang longed for a set of lungs of his own, just to breathe deeply of that sweet warm current and take a little more of Subaru's essence into himself.
"I find levity puts the human mind at ease."
Subaru's hands reached up to cradle Cuilang's slender waist, gently bracing him for a moment before absent-mindedly wandering up and down the graceful curves of his hips.
"Always so thoughtful."
Cuilang leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lover's lips, drawing out the moment before carefully parting them with a dry tongue so he could savor the buzz of anticipation.
"I strive to anticipate your needs, but please let me know if there is something specific I should do."
From the way Subaru quivered and squirmed beneath him, it was obvious that he felt the buzz as well; almost too obvious, with that warm, aqueous body of his, so ill-equipped to keep its own secrets.
"Just... Do whatever you want to me. I... I want you, Cuilang."
So unlike Cuilang, whose mask-like face and mild voice remained steely-cool despite the hectic buzz of machinery within.
"Nonspecific request. Permission to interpret?"
And this, too, was something he had come to savor; his impassive resolve—breaking only when he allowed it—as Subaru came undone in his hands, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glassy even when he managed to stay quiet and still.
"I trust you."
Those were magic words, so powerful that they nearly overloaded Cuilang's intricate brain. But it seemed that all the work he'd been doing in secret was finally paying off, and after a brief flicker he was running smoothly again, sharp and ready to get right to work.
He brought their lips together again, this time allowing his tongue to dive into the warmth within.
And Subaru rose to meet him with equal passion, sliding his own slick tongue into the dry hollow of Cuilang's mouth, easing into kiss until it was as though they were both melting into the same warmth; equal in love, a gentle erasure of all that Cuilang saw himself to lack.
It was a singularly gorgeous moment, one in which he could almost see himself as Human.
On a more practical level, of course, it was a bit like dipping a brush.
With his lips and tongue sufficiently wettened and warmed—and Subaru clearly needing to pause for breath—Cuilang turned his mind to the meticulous art of unmaking.
The meticulousness, as usual, was mostly for his own benefit, for Subaru was almost poignantly easy to unmake. A slippery tongue up the side of his neck, and he was panting. A nibble at the earlobe with delicate ivory teeth, and a purr began to rise in his throat. A little suction near the collarbones—just enough to barely bruise—and the purr became a high whine, hands grasping at Cuilang's chassis as his poised dancer's body grew slack and disorganized with pleasure, telling his lover everything he needed to know without a single word.
Even so, Cuilang felt most at ease when everyone made themselves clear.
"Have I interpreted your request to your liking?"
Subaru opened his eyes just a crack, and the flare of passion in their warm depths made Cuilang's body hum exquisitely.
"Yes... Gods... Always..."
Already, he was on the edge. But there was still much to be done, so he simply swallowed the feeling and allowed it to disperse within him, invigorating his being the way food never would.
"Good. I will continue as planned."
Of course, continuing as planned would prove difficult if Subaru kept running those incredible hands along the column of his spine.
"Let me know if I can help out, okay?"
(Please. You are already doing too much.)
"Though your offer is kind, I anticipate I can take it from here. Allow me to work."
Cuilang allowed his words to come out naturally, plain and edged with frost. For some curious reason, Subaru seemed to get a pure thrill from being spoken to that way, and after decades of feeling awkward and embarrassed about his inbuilt bluntness, Cuilang felt a small thrill of his own at not feeling forced to soften his edges, of waking next to someone who only seemed to want him exactly as he was.
Subaru insisted that he wasn't seen as harsh or unfriendly, but as steady and gently commanding.
At first, this too felt at odds with what he aimed to be; he was meant to be humble, to quietly serve. In a word, to be commanded. And indeed, he did his best to answer every command.
But once again, it was Subaru who kindly informed him that he had it all wrong.
Apparently, he wasn't seen in the Villages as a loyal servant, but rather a trusted authority; the quick hands and even quicker mind that could be called on to unravel any problem, the impeccable memory that made him a bottomless well of knowledge, the soft voice that informed and corrected without condescension.
It was, he supposed, the same trust Subaru placed in him as he allowed his body to go limp and still against the futon, his graceful arms framing his head in a broken arc and his hands twitching and clenching automatically as Cuilang worked, as though nocking and releasing a volley of imaginary arrows.
Single-minded in his focus, Cuilang allowed each and every one to bounce harmlessly against his metal heart.
He slowly worked his way down from the neck to the chest, returning to his lover's lips for a deep, passionate kiss whenever he felt his mouth running dry. Past experience had told him where Subaru was most sensitive—his nipples easily teased into a hot electric buzz, his lean toned flanks ticklish but not unpleasantly so, the smooth skin of his belly and inner thighs sensual and responsive—and Cuilang put this information to good use, working on Subaru until he had him halfway to trembling pieces, begging under heavy breath to be undone at last.
"Please, Lang... I... Not gonna last much longer... Finish me before..."
One look at Subaru, and it was obvious he was so overwhelmed with pleasure that it verged on pain; shapely ribs cresting beneath the skin with the heaving of his uneven breath, cheeks flushed with whatever blood wasn't being put to use hardening and straightening the length of him, that curious and almost comical response.
(How would it feel? I cannot imagine.)
Cuilang slid his hand from the crook of Subaru's thigh, tenderly cupping his groin and feeling the soft weight in his palm like ripe fruit before gently taking the velvety shaft in hand, marvelling as he always did at the throbbing warmth and perfect fit.
"Understood. How would you like it?"
Though it was clearly apparent that this gentle touch alone was enough to overwhelm, Subaru still seemed to want more.
"...Inside?"
Subaru's voice cracked as he spoke, a desperate plea that set Cuilang's gears spinning as he released his slight grip and let his hand stray back into the warmth between his lover's thighs, his fingertips gently probing deeper still.
"Of course. My hand should be a pleasurable temperature by now, but tell me if you experience any discomfort."
He let his hand rest at the cleft of Subaru's buttocks for a brief, thoughtful moment; the two of them making sure what he said was true, Subaru smiling sleepily in approval as soon as he was certain.
"I never have."
Cuilang gently withdrew; giving the underside of the shaft a gentle teasing stroke as he went, taking a few seconds to contemplatively regard his hand and meditate on all the wonderful things it could do.
"Shall we progress?"
Hoping he wasn't being presumptuous, Cuilang locked eyes with his lover and inserted the middle two fingers of his now-warm hand deep into his own mouth, gathering up the last traces of wetness that remained.
This, of course, was mostly a display for Subaru's benefit.
To properly ensure his comfort and pleasure, he would have to reach for the pristine bottle of clear lubricant that he kept at their bedside; the same one he used to oil his joints when they started to squeak, a pure and residue-free formulation that was somehow safe for both their delicate bodies, no matter how different in origin and form.
Subaru shivered with anticipation as a few crystalline drops ran down Cuilang's pale, careful fingers, biting down on his flushed lower lip and managing a shaky nod.
"Yeah... As soon as you're ready."
Cuilang massaged the drops into a uniform sheen on his smooth false skin and gently got back into position, cupping Subaru tenderly as he poised for the plunge.
"Ready."
Subaru gave another nod, and Cuilang slowly eased the first finger inside.
This was the part that used to make him nervous.
It was a stark reminder of the most troubling difference between them.
From a distance, it seemed as though Subaru's body was a locked box, an integrated whole. Unlike Cuilang, he couldn't simply step out of his skin, couldn't open his chest, couldn't replace parts of himself with as little effort as putting new wheels on a toy cart. His body wasn't built, but had grown into and around itself in a sort of elegant, indivisible snarl.
But though his skin lacked seams, there were openings, vulnerable and unsealed.
This made Cuilang feel protective of him, yet at the same time bold and curious.
It was as though he stood before the open door of a labyrinth, ready to walk inside and explore.
How far do you go, Love?
Of course, what he could explore of that warm, pulsing inner maze was limited by the length of his fingers, but that was as far as he really needed to go.
The best secret, as far as he knew, was right inside.
For though he was an organic being, it seemed as though Subaru had a hidden switch.
Its boundaries were indistinct, as boundaries tended to be in such a soft, abstractly arranged form. But after a bit of practice, Cuilang found it easy enough to find; probing carefully until he noticed a subtle protrusion, then inserting the second finger and arcing them until he hit the perfect angle.
If any doubt remained, Subaru was always amusingly quick to clarify.
And sure enough, the lashing of his spine as he rose to meet his lover's touch and the hectic flutter of eyelids told Cuilang that he'd found his target. Subaru gasped in rapture, hips bucking and hands grasping for purchase on Cuilang's shoulders; so warm and passionate that his vision was fuzzing again, as though his lover was trying to drag him down with him, into the crashing waves of pleasure and the inky depths beneath.
"...Please refrain from grabbing at me. It's distracting."
Subaru obediently let his hands fall to his sides, gripping the futon and biting down on his lip again, so hard that Cuilang was momentarily concerned he might draw blood.
"Ngh... Sorry..."
Cuilang laid his free hand across Subaru's mouth, anticipating that he would reflexively kiss his palm, and thus release his own flesh from his surprisingly strong jaws.
Approximately one-hundred-and-sixty-two PSI.
(Enough to tear himself apart.)
"Though I do not require it, I accept your apology."
Just as he'd hoped, he felt the tense muscles relax, leaving only the softness of his lips.
Ironically, this was what began to tear Cuilang apart.
He had been expecting it for some time, and indeed, this encounter—every encounter—had been a race against his own dissolution. The objective in keeping his composure was not to avoid his own undoing, but to ensure he got Subaru there first.
I must finish this task.
(Not long now.)
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, a groan rose in Subaru's throat to let him know he had finally succeeded.
(Not a microsecond too soon.)
The pure bliss on his lover's face as he surrendered to pleasure was too much to bear, so Cuilang allowed himself to let go.
See you in a moment, my dear Dragon Rider.
The static overtook his vision, dazzling what he managed to keep of his melting, ruptured mind with color and light, the ringing in his ears sharpening to an overwhelming drone as he joyfully lost himself at last.
(Or have I found myself here?)
Himself, as he simply existed; neither the machine he was nor the Human he still quietly longed to be, not a category or an archetype, not built for any specific purpose but to be, in this fleeting moment of singular pleasure.
Cuilang rose and rose, then leveled off and began his drifting descent, like the simple paper flying machines his Master had taught him to make to help him gain command of his hands long, long ago.
(So clumsy back then.)
Of course, it took him less than a week to graduate to the delicate mechanical work that would become his specialty, and a few decades of practice had by now honed those skills to what even ever-humble Cuilang understood as perfection, or at least the closest one could reasonably get.
(So adept now.)
The proof was written all over Subaru's slack, dreamy face, shimmering beautifully into view as the static cleared and Cuilang rejoined the world.
"Mmm... Good job, Lang."
When his senses fully returned, it was with an almost eerie clarity, as though the overload had burned some thin scum of built-up debris from his circuits. The process wasn't exactly unlike his errors, but he remained conscious throughout, and there was none of that sluggishly scatterbrained feeling upon his return, so it was obviously something else.
Exactly what, he couldn't really be sure.
As thorough as his Master's notations had been, they mentioned nothing like this.
"It pleases me to have performed to your satisfaction, though I think the motion of my digits could have been a bit more fluid."
Subaru languidly reached out to entwine his fingers with Cuilang's, not seeming to care that his hand was still greasy, or that it had been knuckle-deep in his own body not a minute before.
"When's the last time you did your joints?"
Though really, what did it matter? In moments like this, it truly did feel like they were of one flesh; grown together in love, blood and bones and gears and circuits functioning as a strange new whole.
Cuilang gently squeezed Subaru's hand in return as he sifted through his recent memories, finding the question trivial but still deserving of a proper answer.
"Last week, remember? When my knee came out of place while I was working on the water wheel in the village. I decided to perform some routine maintenance once I'd finished the repair."
With a long sigh that gradually slid from contented to weary—perhaps even slightly exhasperated—Subaru met Cuilang's gaze in a way he must have thought was stern, yet was softened considerably by the lingering glaze of pleasure shining the surface of his amber eyes.
"Lang... We've been over this. You shouldn't wait until something slips."
Suddenly aware of a nagging grinding sensation in his shoulders and spine, Cuilang was struck by an irresistible urge to lie down.
"I do not tire, so I tend to lose track of my body until something reminds me."
Stretched out next to his lover on the futon, Cuilang studied that body—both bodies—intently, trying to see things simply as they were; the smooth absence between his strong slender legs, the almost feminine swoop of his limber hips. The taut bronzed plane of Subaru's belly, the garland of white droplets that had settled there like pearlescent shells on a quiet golden beach, the meandering whorls of his own glistening saliva traced over his skin by Cuilang's loving tongue.
Their hands, still intertwined; a tanned thumb skimming across pale smooth knuckles, a sheen of oil almost silvery in the lamplight.
"Guess I'll have to start reminding you, then."
Heat flooded Cuilang's cheeks once more, that now-familiar whirr humming in his chest.
"You do not have t-"
Subaru placed his free hand on Cuilang's dry lips, an echo of the gentle silencing gesture he himself had so recently used.
"I want to."
Not terribly long ago, the idea that someone would want to help him would have been enough to make his brain throw sparks. But now he simply swallowed the concept, blinking the tiny flicker of a nascent error away.
(I'm changing, aren't I?)
"...I think I might be a little more alive."
Cuilang realized too late that he'd accidentally spoken out loud, but if Subaru found his sudden declaration strange, he gave no indication.
He simply integrated it, the waters of his body effortlessly engulfing it into his being.
"Me too, Lang. Me too."
And perhaps it was this, more than any base physical process, that made one a living thing.