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& BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT , THERE IS :
DESPERATION , DAUNTING ( our fates have always been intertwined, and yet-- ) : sukuna realizes that it is never enough to just see you. not now, not back then, never. to see and not touch is the punishment of the self, the utmost deprivation of carnal being and connection, and so in every moment of reunion, his calloused fingers seek the warmth of your skin underneath his.
( tender. fragile. in this life and every one prior. )
he understands the passage of time too well. it is a familiar friend and foe : one that takes you away and brings you back to him every single time. you lose your place by his side, the place in which you belong as his, always his-- only for him to search for you near and far until he finds you again.
it is soul-shredding ; it is serenity. stagnant and swaying, simultaneous.
it is pleasure and pain, one in the same. the loss and the gain, the goodbye and the hey, you've kept me waiting too long again.
( you laugh every time, joyful. he smiles. it is easier to see the happiness in his eyes more than anything. thank you for finding me again, you always tell him. )
THE ACHE IN WANTING ( you'll know me in every life, the feeling of my claws against your skin ) : sukuna fucks you like he's about to lose you. he always does. but tonight is different-- tonight holds more desperation, more fervor, and you cannot help but laugh softly-- a miracle in itself with the way you can barely catch your breath.
"relax," you murmur, hand cupping his face as you kiss the corner of his mouth, "we have all the time in the world."
he doesn't listen ( he never does ). he raises a brow, gives you that mildly disgruntled look as his pace shifts. his hips rock against yours, slow. steady. he leans down, grabs your jaw-- not tender, but not harsh. enough to command you to listen.
"all the time in the world?" too slow. all too steady, the way he fucks into you, the way he fills you until you're all he knows. closer, until his lips ghost the shell of your ear. "how much time left until we have to move on from this world? until i have to find you and bring you back to me like i always do?"
you can't count how many lifetimes you have spent together through the ages. four? five? no, not five. perhaps it was actually--
your breath hitches as his palms rest against the back of your thighs, pushing and pushing until you're right where he wants you, all open and wet and slick with your longing and his aching. he's rough, but not brutal. it's not enough to hurt, the stretch. never.
you can't even bother to voice your protest, knees touching your chest as he admires you. he grins something softer than that malevolence you knew so long ago, leaning in even more as he pushes deeper and deeper into you, watching how your brows furrow, lips parting as you make that sound he loves so much. it's cruel, the way he teases you, pulling out almost all the way, but it's even crueler that you cannot find the words to beg, your body doing so in the absence of your pleas. you whimper, clenching around him so tightly he cannot help but groan, easing back into you like your body was meant for his.
"all the time in the world." he says again, voice lower and strained as he fucks you harder than before. his hands move to your hips, nails digging into your flesh. "all the time in the world and i still fuck you like it's the end of it." he hums, musing. "you wouldn't want it any other way, would you?"
( you whimper in response, your desire coating his cock as he pumps into you faster and faster, holding you tighter, nails etching marks into your skin.
it's familiar, that feeling.
you have always missed it dearly. )
LOYALTY ( and something akin to the feeling of love, anyway ) : sukuna knows that there will never be enough of you. in every breath, every waking moment, you are all he wants, all he needs. in the dark hours, you look even more beautiful bathed in the moonlight : your body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the remnants of him on your stomach. you shiver when he tends to you, the towel gentle across your skin, trembling limbs aching in protest and pleasure alike.
"stop smirking."
he huffs softly, amused, handing you a bottle of water as you drink.
it's silent for a long while, filled with something a little heavier, a little more intimate. he sets aside the bottle and the towel, ignoring your complaints as he plops straight on top of you, mindful to not crush you with his weight.
"heavy."
"comfortable." he corrects you, hand running up and down your side. "you like this." a pause. "you like me."
you shudder from his touch once more, protests falling silent as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him a little tighter as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking out all he knows.
"i do like you." you say. "just a little bit." silent, again. nostalgia blooms, lodges itself and all the things you want to say in your throat. "all the time in the world." your words are quieter now, fingers tracing circles into his flesh, tender, like something cherished. like something that has always been worshiped.
"all the time in the world," he repeats, lips pressing against your pulse point, then along your jaw, "and i'd give it all to you."
( in every life?
in every life. you have to ask that?
no. but i like to. [ a hum, then the quiet ]. thank you for finding me, always.
always. )