[oneshot] Decoy
Title: Decoy
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Soushu!Yuuri/Murata, hints of Shinou/Sage
Genre: Drama
Words: 892
Rating: T
Notes: Inspired by a conversation with sora_ishida, so it's for her. ♥ I haven't written KKM fic in ages, but it kind of feels good to play with them again. :) Spoilers for episodes 75+ and it's sort of limey.
Moonlight shone down from the skylight, breaking into ripples as it filtered into the shrine's main room. Earlier, Murata had allowed himself a bitter, ironic snort. Of course there would be a full moon. If he had realized it before tonight, he would have thought it a good omen. (A rather desperate grasp at hope, but a grasp nonetheless.) Late realization sifted through guilt made him wish there was a curtain he could pull to block out the light. Better to have had an eclipse.
Under that gentle, blue-white moonlight and the buttery touch of the candles along the walls, Shin Makoku's fate strolled amid the cracks and pieces of upended floor, testing his legs. Murata took refuge behind a shaft of light and watched him from the dais; even he didn't know how long it had been since the creature in the boxes had possessed a mortal form. If Soushu's sole purpose in this world had not been to annihilate it, Murata would have enjoyed observing how a spirit several millennia old adjusted to actually feeling the ground beneath its feet. Sorry, Shibuya.
The moon's light had shifted considerably to the west by the time the exploration and experimentation finished. A black-haired head and equally dark eyes turned toward the dais. Soushu spoke slowly, thoughtfully, as if savoring how each word felt on his tongue. "Shall we greet the others, my Sage?" he drawled, nearly stopping Murata's heart with an indolent grin. "Perhaps I shall make a game of it? They are no doubt greatly concerned for their boy-king."
Well before dawn, though there was little doubt that Blood Pledge Castle was wide awake. He wondered if they had found the book yet.
Murata tilted his head to one side, a dark eyebrow arching slightly. "Impatient as usual." He planted his hands on his hips and sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you missed me."
The darkly amused laughter echoed off the walls as Soushu's steps closed the distance between them. The warmth in his fingers startled the youth as they slid under his chin and tilted his head back. Shibuya's warmth. Shibuya's hands, face and voice all twisted and put to use for tasks Shibuya himself would be horrified at. Murata kept the slight, challenging smile on his face as he met Soushu's gaze. "Is your need so great that you cannot wait until I am free from this prison?" The fingers left his chin and stroked idly down his cheek and Murata shivered, despite himself. Soushu's lips hovered over his. "I would say, then, that you are the impatient one."
Breathe. Ignore the thundering heartbeat in his chest. "... you're forgetting I never liked to share."
This delighted laugh had the undercurrent of malice, but Murata had little time to wonder before Soushu stifled it against his mouth. He had included this in his list of possible scenarios, had considered a handful of possible reactions. His careful assessments nearly flew out the window in those first, precious seconds, when a soft sound escaped his throat and he let Soushu push him back until he was bracing one arm against the lid of The Mirror at the Bottom of the Sea. The box hummed beneath his hand, resonating with Shibuya’s proximity. Dazed, Murata pulled back from the kiss and stared down at it, watching faint, black whorls begin to appear on the surface of the wood.
Not yet.
Soushu's hand cupped his cheek and brought his face back up, recapturing his attention. Automatically, Murata leaned into the hand as he closed his eyes, keeping the moment while trying to think now that the haze had burned off. Fingers threaded through his hair, again startling him. He had not expected Soushu to be capable of such tender gestures. "Ah," the other sighed softly. "I preferred your hair long, my Sage."
Murata's heart clenched and he began to think the impossible: he'd executed an incredibly ill-conceived plan. The Great Sage had lived through a great deal in four thousand years, but Murata Ken was not sure how much more he could take of this being of pure evil with an identity crisis who had taken over his best friend's body. He swallowed. "You didn't have to wash it," he murmured.
A breath against his ear made him open his eyes. "I should have liked to, had you allowed me."
Gritting his teeth, Murata lifted his chin and kissed Soushu hard and let the creature make of that what he would. Anything to stop the further distortion of the Shinou's memories. The other buried a hand in his uniform jacket and yanked him forward; his shoe slipped on the top stair and Murata stumbled sideways, winding up with Soushu propped above him and a lower stair digging into his back.
Long, warm fingers hooked around the jacket's high collar. "Are you still so jealous, my Sage?"
Murata's mouth opened to speak, but for once, nothing came out. A quick, insouciant grin stole over his face, covering, until he could reply. "I may, in fact, be... somewhat less green."
Sorry, Shibuya.
Soushu worked the clasp open, laughing as he claimed the youth's mouth again. Murata disconnected from his body and just watched the moonlight angle further and further away, taking what he could from this Pyrrhic victory and the eventual lightening of the sky.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Soushu!Yuuri/Murata, hints of Shinou/Sage
Genre: Drama
Words: 892
Rating: T
Notes: Inspired by a conversation with sora_ishida, so it's for her. ♥ I haven't written KKM fic in ages, but it kind of feels good to play with them again. :) Spoilers for episodes 75+ and it's sort of limey.
Moonlight shone down from the skylight, breaking into ripples as it filtered into the shrine's main room. Earlier, Murata had allowed himself a bitter, ironic snort. Of course there would be a full moon. If he had realized it before tonight, he would have thought it a good omen. (A rather desperate grasp at hope, but a grasp nonetheless.) Late realization sifted through guilt made him wish there was a curtain he could pull to block out the light. Better to have had an eclipse.
Under that gentle, blue-white moonlight and the buttery touch of the candles along the walls, Shin Makoku's fate strolled amid the cracks and pieces of upended floor, testing his legs. Murata took refuge behind a shaft of light and watched him from the dais; even he didn't know how long it had been since the creature in the boxes had possessed a mortal form. If Soushu's sole purpose in this world had not been to annihilate it, Murata would have enjoyed observing how a spirit several millennia old adjusted to actually feeling the ground beneath its feet. Sorry, Shibuya.
The moon's light had shifted considerably to the west by the time the exploration and experimentation finished. A black-haired head and equally dark eyes turned toward the dais. Soushu spoke slowly, thoughtfully, as if savoring how each word felt on his tongue. "Shall we greet the others, my Sage?" he drawled, nearly stopping Murata's heart with an indolent grin. "Perhaps I shall make a game of it? They are no doubt greatly concerned for their boy-king."
Well before dawn, though there was little doubt that Blood Pledge Castle was wide awake. He wondered if they had found the book yet.
Murata tilted his head to one side, a dark eyebrow arching slightly. "Impatient as usual." He planted his hands on his hips and sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you missed me."
The darkly amused laughter echoed off the walls as Soushu's steps closed the distance between them. The warmth in his fingers startled the youth as they slid under his chin and tilted his head back. Shibuya's warmth. Shibuya's hands, face and voice all twisted and put to use for tasks Shibuya himself would be horrified at. Murata kept the slight, challenging smile on his face as he met Soushu's gaze. "Is your need so great that you cannot wait until I am free from this prison?" The fingers left his chin and stroked idly down his cheek and Murata shivered, despite himself. Soushu's lips hovered over his. "I would say, then, that you are the impatient one."
Breathe. Ignore the thundering heartbeat in his chest. "... you're forgetting I never liked to share."
This delighted laugh had the undercurrent of malice, but Murata had little time to wonder before Soushu stifled it against his mouth. He had included this in his list of possible scenarios, had considered a handful of possible reactions. His careful assessments nearly flew out the window in those first, precious seconds, when a soft sound escaped his throat and he let Soushu push him back until he was bracing one arm against the lid of The Mirror at the Bottom of the Sea. The box hummed beneath his hand, resonating with Shibuya’s proximity. Dazed, Murata pulled back from the kiss and stared down at it, watching faint, black whorls begin to appear on the surface of the wood.
Not yet.
Soushu's hand cupped his cheek and brought his face back up, recapturing his attention. Automatically, Murata leaned into the hand as he closed his eyes, keeping the moment while trying to think now that the haze had burned off. Fingers threaded through his hair, again startling him. He had not expected Soushu to be capable of such tender gestures. "Ah," the other sighed softly. "I preferred your hair long, my Sage."
Murata's heart clenched and he began to think the impossible: he'd executed an incredibly ill-conceived plan. The Great Sage had lived through a great deal in four thousand years, but Murata Ken was not sure how much more he could take of this being of pure evil with an identity crisis who had taken over his best friend's body. He swallowed. "You didn't have to wash it," he murmured.
A breath against his ear made him open his eyes. "I should have liked to, had you allowed me."
Gritting his teeth, Murata lifted his chin and kissed Soushu hard and let the creature make of that what he would. Anything to stop the further distortion of the Shinou's memories. The other buried a hand in his uniform jacket and yanked him forward; his shoe slipped on the top stair and Murata stumbled sideways, winding up with Soushu propped above him and a lower stair digging into his back.
Long, warm fingers hooked around the jacket's high collar. "Are you still so jealous, my Sage?"
Murata's mouth opened to speak, but for once, nothing came out. A quick, insouciant grin stole over his face, covering, until he could reply. "I may, in fact, be... somewhat less green."
Sorry, Shibuya.
Soushu worked the clasp open, laughing as he claimed the youth's mouth again. Murata disconnected from his body and just watched the moonlight angle further and further away, taking what he could from this Pyrrhic victory and the eventual lightening of the sky.