daemon_angelus: (ffxv | noctis [ smile sometimes ])
[personal profile] daemon_angelus
because (re-)doing UF!au from Ky's POV is like thirteen of hercules' labours (i.e. nigh impossible) - HAVE A SNIPPET INSTEAD :D and yes, the title is based on the words craved in their belt buckles in canon AND I NOW STAUNCHLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE ANY OTHER INTERPRETATIONS OF THEM SO THERE (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧


He wakes
To a firm tangent of warm muscle beneath him
His chin digging into
The tender dip between collarbones (shouldn't it be painful? the thought half-forms in the fog of nine am mornings - in the fog of wait how many times did we do it last night - )
Lifts his head slightly - blinking away, or rather, trying to - get his head out of languid searing touches - rough chapped lips against his own - a hot tongue and sharp teeth scraping his neck - the sound of his own rasping breaths in his ears as he -
 
He looks up to the man they call Dragon
 
Why do you do this to yourself - a tiny ugly part of himself thinks and spits out - wouldn't it be easier, better, with almost literally anyone else - to the rest of his consciousness -
(Realises he'd probably passed out - again - and left the other man to clean up and tuck him under the blanket - )
He traces the questions into the curve of muscular shoulders, up to a neck lolled on its side (can see the head of the black dragon behind the flesh - feels his ribcage contract painfully into itself every time his fingers pass over one, two, three bumps of scarred flesh - )
 
Realises it's just not enough (it will never be enough) -
 
He wants to hear his name on those lips and tongue - breathed into his ear with a low growl that holds no aggression - only want and desire that mirrors his own -
Wants those fierce gold eyes only on him - never wants to miss when they soften with something like wonder and surprise - like the first time he'd cooked and served them dinner -
Wants the dark winged dragon to only be for him and his eyes, touch and tongue - not for strangers who don't see anything beyond the brand of savagery -
 
He wants Sol

(And shouldn't that be enough of a reason for everything that he's - they're - doing?
No matter what the world would should could say
No matter what other people would should could think
Behind their backs - with knives of jealousy on their tongues - spite in their hearts - )
 
And when Sol stirs half-awake -
Ky shifts and presses
A tender kiss - fingers threading through dark mahogany hair -
And he hopes
One day Sol will understand -
It's not about the darkness that envelops his past or even current present -
 
It never was and it never will be
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nero

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