#yu making me write sappy demon stuff Saint

[bearratic]

From here / @sanctissimx

It was an easy sleep for the demon, a quiet he had needed since the loud buzzing of last night. Now, all that was heard was a rythmic heartbeat and a lost bird or two. The city yet to wake up, he guessed it was even too early for common folk to rise. He didn't mind, there was no need to move just yet. Why ruin something he didn’t even have to ask for. Why not fully indulge in what was given on a silver platter. Comfort and warmth due to the large frame draped atop of him. Leander’s easy breathing wasn't new but had been missed by his own. It slows his pulse, lessens his vivid dreams of terror. Maybe even makes him wish for its return every time it leaves.

The sticky damp of his skin that was a couple hours ago had dissapeared, dried but not forgotten where it came from. Though the shared room was not filled with unpleasant aroma. It was more weighted with sandelwood, still burning candles and of course, the infamous dried booze of the Wet Wick downstairs. The place bringin Ais more amenity than he would ever exclaim aloud, finding it easier to express a dislike than a comfrot. Ais switches his priority and mind back to the easy breathing of the other, the gentle wind bristles over the muscles of his chest, mixing with his own sigh he finds another thought crawl into his mind, univited and unwanted. Usually it was the ease of a blank mind that kept him at bay longer.

So he finally opens his eyes, the crimson gaze first to the ceiling, then it turns down to the sleeping Leander. The demon's glance trails over the others hair, as brown as fresh eath, as messy as their companionship. The light tickle of it as it reaches to the demon's chin. If he didn't know better, he'd say he enjoyed this. Raising his still free arm, the tattoed one, the blue curving around him. Then his hand, reaching to the same strands of hazelnut colored hair, moving them back to be one with the rest, as he has seen Leander do so many times before. It was strange, being together so often grants the ability to practically mimic the other's movements. Or had he just been watching too often, too closely. Ais states that Leander looks different in sleep, usually he beams. Loud, bright and full of pride. Like a lion. And now he is still, so surreal, so enticing, so easy on the eyes. Normally he'd find himself speaking this out of lust, but this time seemed to differ. Finding himself wrapped in Leander's charm like witchcraft, unbeknownst of its true danger.

Nevertheless Ais knows danger by heart, yet he never listens. So, there he is again, in a shared bed, with no regrets this time. Ais moves his head, watching the light break through the curtains. His hand, completing the soothing gesture in Leander's hair, goes down. The hand trails past the man's muscular shoulders, lingering on the scar that had been born on the space between his neck and his chest. He traces it, feeling all the parts of Leander's body it reaches, letting it play and stay where it wishes to do so. Leander's features are exentrated by the morning light. Sharp and inviting, they're different from every angle. Hanging above Ais and peering down like a bird of prey, now set apart for something vulnerable. But why, why is this man trying so hard for his heart, for his... acceptance, asking for praise for each breath. As if Ais' affection was something that needs to be conquered, kept behind lock and key only to be let out when Leander wishes for it.

Are you just a fool? Are you looking for perfect symetry within one that doesn't have one piece of rest for you. Will you ever make the correct choices? Ais' hand moves again. Towards Leanders back, over his shoulder blade. The touch gentle, nearing loving carresses as it leaves no marks behind except light goosebumps. One more shift of his head and his lips ghost across Leanders forehead. Or am I the fool here?

His roaming hand going to the drape of Leanders back, over his spine and vertibre. His waist, his hips, dissapearing under the covers. "Why do pretty mouths always speak such naivity." he murmurs and it was met with a light shift and a stretch from the other, a sign of waking up. The gaze Ais had kept on him all this time is now met with green eyes, they had something like the spring leafs. So the demon shoots him a toothy grin. "How about you get off me, before your massive frame is forever imprinted on mine." He says, but his body wasn't giving in, it was already too late. That face was impossible to ignore, so Ais did the only thing he could when his words normally fail. You're so pretty. Trailing his free hand back up and grabbing the strong jaw of the other. Melting his mouth and lips against the other. A warmth that had his chest burn and his mind still once again. The demon kisses as if he's hungry, as if it's something he had been waiting years for, as if it wasn’t just a couple of hours ago their lips parted. It doesn’t matter to him, he's not letting go first this time.