Clover frowned. “I don’t do pity fucks.”
A smile crooked Pyro’s mouth. “I am a hot dick.” But when Clover didn’t smile back, Pyro’s shoulders hunched. “Didn’t land, huh?”
“No, it’s not funny. If you can only be real with Boar, fine, but if that’s the case, we can only be friends. I won’t be having sex with you, and it’s not some weird blackmail. I’m just done with this. Even if you didn’t mean the things you said, it doesn’t make me feel good. I—” his voice trembled when it shouldn’t have. “I’ve been through some shit and this is the last thing I need.”
Pyro leaned forward, grabbing Clover’s hand. “Clo, please. I won’t do the whole it-was-the-drugs-talking thing. I’m responsible for what I did. I know I am. But can you, please, give me another chance? I’m not saying right away, because you’re right to be upset, but no matter how it looked like, I do care about us,” he said, gesturing between himself and Clover.
“Why? You already said you can only be real with Boar.”
It was something Pyro didn’t have control over, and Clover knew he was just being honest for once, but it still hurt to know that their relationship had been so one-sided. But despite such disappointment, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Pyro’s fingers. There was mortal danger ahead, and for all Clover knew, either of them might die in the attempt to recover their lover. If something happened to Pyro, he didn’t want to forever regret being petty in their final moments together.
Pyro swallowed, lowering his eyes in a physical demonstration of retreat. It took him several seconds to gather his thoughts. “The real me is boring. It’s just… normal. He’s afraid sometimes, and that’s not attractive in a guy like me. You like confidence and strength, and, from the day we met, I wanted you to be crazy about me.”
Clover’s teeth sank into his lip, and he squeezed Pyro’s hand as hope glimmered deep in his chest. That had to be the most honest thing he’d heard from Pyro in months. To be perfectly frank, it was the most genuine conversation he’d had with Pyro. Period. “You did?”
“Just look at yourself. You’re pretty like a doll, you always make time for everyone, you always keep others in a good mood. You’re just…” Pyro met Clover’s gaze again. “Perfect. Like a person who shouldn’t exist, but you’re real.”
Clover swallowed. The months of fear and worry had taken their toll on him, and he couldn’t bring himself to reject the flattery. “But no white hair…”
Pyro groaned, holding on to Clover’s hand as if he were afraid they’d never touch again if he let go. “You’re cute either way. I just hate that you dyed it because you felt you had to, not because you chose to. Did you see me before my hair and tattoos? You wouldn’t have noticed me in the street.”
Clover gave him a weak smile. “Can’t even imagine you as the average Joe. Boar told me your parents made you wear a uniform at home?”
“Yeah. And I had this ultraconservative short haircut. And I couldn’t listen to normal music. I couldn’t go to school to meet people unsupervised. I hated it all. I was like a gingerbread man my parents got to decorate as they saw fit when I wanted to be the flamboyant chocolate cake with chili.”
Clover was unable to fight the pull toward Pyro now that he finally saw a crack in the outer shell of his man. “You are one now. And pretty delicious, if I do say so myself.”
Pyro’s mouth curved into the slightest smile, and his colorful brow tattoos lowered, keeping him looking roguish despite the peaceful expression. “I promise to go light on the chili from now on. I’m serious, Clo. If you were in danger, I’d protect you with my life.”
“Just can’t protect me from yourself?” It was meant as a joke, but turned out sounding bitter.
Pyro’s features twitched. “What do you want me to do to prove myself? I’ll do it.”
Clover took a big gulp of and squeezed Pyro’s hand. “Quit snorting coke, you motherfucker.”
Pyro’s nostrils flared, and he stared back at Clover, bristled up like a cat about to attack. “I… kinda wish you’d said it that way before. You’re too nice to me sometimes. And I’m a piece of shit. Sometimes, a kick in the balls is the only thing that gets through to my pea brain,” he said with a shake of his head. There was no accusation in his tone, just a sense of self-reflection he so badly needed.
“I couldn’t be hard on you after you lost Boar. We were all hurting, and I just wanted to make things nice for everyone. I tried to maintain a home all of you would want to come back to.” Clover sniffed, no longer able to hold in his upset feelings. For months, he’d hidden his own wounds and distracted himself by taking care of everyone else, but maybe it was time to demand the same consideration in return.