Theo took Alias’s hand and led him away from the moonlight of the living room and into their new bedroom. The scent of fresh-cut wood was stronger here, mingling with the cool night air.

Theo sat on the edge of the large sleeping mat he’d laid out, pulling Alias down beside him. The proximity was different now; the house made it feel permanent, real, and Alias’s heart was racing in anticipation.

He was always eager to learn new things with Theo. Would this set his body on fire just like the kisses did?

​Theo looked at Alias, noticing the way the silver-haired man sat with such perfect, upright grace. He realized then just how much Alias still had to learn.

And once again, he found himself wondering if he came from the moon.

​"Alias," Theo started, his hand resting on Alias’s knee, feeling the slight tension there. "I’ve noticed something. In the mornings... You don’t wake up the way I do. Your body stays... quiet."

​Alias tilted his head, a strand of silver hair falling over his eye. "Quiet? I breathe, Theo. My heart beats. Is there another way I am supposed to wake?"

​Theo rubbed the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his own throat. "I mean... have you ever felt a stir down there? A tightness in your pants that you feel embarrassed to show? Have you ever... touched yourself?"

​Alias stared at him, his silver eyes blinking in genuine confusion. He looked down at his own lap and then back at Theo, tilting his head even further.

​"Why would I touch myself?" Alias asked, his voice earnest and devoid of any shame. "I have hands to gather fruit, to play in the water, and to hold yours. I do not understand. Is there a function I am missing?"

​The sheer innocence of the question made Theo’s heart ache. He realized Alias viewed his body like a perfectly maintained machine or a piece of art—functional and beautiful, but lacking the ’noise’ of a man’s instinct.

Alias didn’t know that his body was capable of wanting for its own sake.

That just showed he has never known lust. So, Alias has loved him without viewing his body as something to take from or be taken from?

​Theo moved closer, his large hand sliding from Alias’s knee to the center of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart.

​"It’s not a function you’re missing," Theo whispered, his gaze dropping to Alias’s lips before moving back to his eyes. "It’s a feeling you haven’t been introduced to yet. It’s the way your body tells you it wants to be close to someone. It’s a... a heat. I want to show you what that feels like. Not because you have to, but because I want you to know how much pleasure you’re allowed to have."

​Alias watched Theo’s face, mesmerized by the intensity there. "Is it like the racing heart?" he asked softly.

​"A little," Theo smiled, his thumb grazing Alias’s jaw. "But deeper. And much more demanding."

​He reached down, his fingers gently finding the hem of Alias’s trousers. "May I? I’ll be slow. I just want to teach you how to feel yourself, Alias. Through my hands first."

​Alias felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the night cold. He didn’t know what it was, but he wanted to learn. So, he nodded slowly, his breath hitching.

"Teach me, Theo. I want to know everything you know." And a hidden message played under those words. Teach me the things humans feel and do when they are in love.

Theo’s heart hammered against his ribs—a frantic rhythm of guilt and desire—as he watched Alias’s unblinking, trusting eyes. He felt like a thief again, but this time he wasn’t stealing bread; he was stealing this man’s innocence and taking the lead in a dance Alias didn’t even know existed.

​"Lay back," Theo whispered, his voice low and vibrating with a sudden... desire.

​Alias obeyed, his movements simple yet graceful as he settled onto the woven mat.

His silver hair fanned out around his head like a fallen halo against the dark fibers. The room was dim, lit only by the faint, blue-tinted moonlight filtering through the window, making Alias’s pale skin look like polished stone.

​Theo stared at Alias for a beat. The man he wanted was right where he wanted him, but he could not take him yet.

He swallowed and moved over him, not crushing him, but bracing himself on his elbows to look down. He reached for the hem of Alias’s trousers once again and slowly pulled them down, exposing the long, slender lines of Alias’s legs.

Alias watched with a quiet curiosity, his breath coming in short, rhythmic puffs. But he could not help but have these pink flushes on his cheeks.

He did not know why, but he felt a little need to cover up after he was exposed, but he kept his hands still and his eyes locked on Theo’s movements.

​When he was fully exposed, Theo paused. Alias dick was pale, and it looked... quiet. Just as he had described. There was no tension, no blood rushing to the surface. He was completely limp, a masterpiece in repose in its pale glory.

​"It will feel strange at first," Theo murmured, his hand hovering just above Alias’s dick. The heat radiating from Theo’s palm was enough to make Alias’s stomach muscles ripple. "Your body isn’t used to being focused on this way. So relax, okay?"

Alias nodded, but he swallowed, deep in anticipation of what would happen next.

​Theo finally closed the distance. He didn’t grab at first; he simply let his fingers graze the soft skin of Alias’s inner thigh. Alias jumped, his hips jerking upward instinctively.

​"Theo!" he gasped, his hands flying up to clutch at Theo’s forearms. "That... that felt like when you kissed my neck. But... sharper. More intense."

​"Then it’s good. It means you’re reacting to my touch." Theo said, a small, crooked smile playing on his lips. He moved his hand higher, his palm finally cupping the soft, dormant weight of Alias’s dick.

​Alias’s eyes went wide. His head fell back against the mat, and he let out a sound that was half-whimper, half-question. He felt Theo’s calloused thumb begin to stroke upward, slow and steady. It was a sensation of friction and pressure that his mind struggled to categorize. It wasn’t a thought—it was a physical demand.