#kujax

INT . AJAX & KURISU’S APARTMENT - NIGH MIDNIGHT

the door clicks shut behind ajax & risu as they stumble into the dim entryway, laughing and tipsy on love. his mouth finds hers between every breathless step. cheek, jaw, the corner of her smile, and she giggles into each kiss, fingers curled in his collar. orange peels still curl on the coffee table from earlier, halves they’d pulled apart and fed to each other piece by piece, the way they always do--fingers sticky, sweetness passed mouth to mouth.

he eases her down onto the cushions and pushes the shoulder of her coat off and stops. beneath it: a babydoll that’s as sheer as a whisper, one strap already slipping. he grins slow and delighted and like a fox, to which her face can only flood with heat, all that courage spent tugging on the lingerie hours ago catching up with her now.

AJAX (murmured warmly against her temple) all this for me, hm?

RISU (barely above a whisper, covering face with the back of a hand) ...maybe.

he pulls her hand away, kisses each knuckle.

the soft strains of orchestral strings bleed from the dance hall, down the empty corridors of zapolyarny palace— empty, save for RISU [donning an opalescent gown, radiant as the pale moon] and AJAX [dashing in a snugly tailored suit] who run hand-in-hand to seek privacy in the shadows, out of sight of twinkling wall sconces and prying eyes. AJAX suddenly pulls RISU towards the wall, coaxing a squeak and a giggle out of her which he returns with a wide grin, followed by a tender kiss.

RISU: [muffled, falling into his touch] is this okay...? what if they notice we're gone?

AJAX only kisses RISU harder, more desperately, as if egged on by her concerns. he then begins to trail his lips along her jaw and down her neck, leaving faint mauve blossoms in their wake.

AJAX: [teasing] what if they notice we're gone? if they come looking for us, shall we give them a show?

RISU: [stuttering shyly, buckling weakly at the knees at the thought] i— uhm— i mean, i don't know...

RISU'S embarrassment only arouses AJAX more, evident by how he presses her up flush to the wall, sneaking a thigh in between hers. the love he feels for her makes him think he might simply dissolve into happiness.

AJAX: [adoringly, bumping his nose with hers] oh, milaya, always keeping your naughty little perversions to yourself, aren't you? frankly, i think it would be rather fitting to put on a show for the other harbingers... [bunching up the skirt of RISU'S dress] after all, i'd like to let them know who exactly it is you belong to.

the way he adorns her is like that of a pastry chef frosting his most precious confection. layer upon layer of tulle and silk, each single article of clothing as an argument against every lie she has ever believed about herself. this, he murmurs, clasping pearls at her throat, and this, sliding lace up her thighs, and this, his lips following where fabric ends and skin begins--tracing the ribbon's edge along her waist, breath hot through gossamer, making her gasp, making her arch toward him like a flower lilts toward its sun.

ajax is a harbinger, has conquered nations, but here is where his sweetest victory lies--in watching her turn before the mirror, the slow dissolution of doubt.

he stands behind her, hands spanning her waist, chin hooked over her shoulder. together they regard her reflection: flushed, luminous, draped in things too beautiful for her to have ever purchased for herself. his thumb traces idle circles at her hip: look, he commands. tender as velvet and firm as steel. she is soft where the world has tried to harden her, yielding where cruelty has demanded she become stone, and he will spend every mora in teyvat to make her see.

later, always, he unwraps her slowly, reverently, as one savours a dessert too beautiful to devour yet too delicious to resist. when she is bare before him, fighting the old urge to cover herself, his gaze holds her fast, blazing and utterly ravenous.

his mouth traces her collarbone, the soft swell of breast she has learned to hate, but he has loved from the moment he'd laid his eyes upon. he cups her there, lips brushing the peak until she whimpers and her fingers twist in his hair. beautiful, he breathes against her skin, and means it. beautiful, beautiful.

she shivers, and is slow to bloom under his affection, for years of frost do not thaw in a single evening. but finally, at last, she begins to believe. he feels it in the way her body softens against him, the way her breath hitches not from shame but from want. he has given her the silk and the gold, but this is the true gift.

and when he finally takes her apart, gentle and devastatingly thorough, it tastes sweeter than anything either of them has ever known.