#simpkuna

He wanted to keep every emotion troubling his heart well locked within his ribcage, away from his throat and restrained enough to avoid poisoning his words. But his voice had betrayed him, turning the question into a remark that sounded a bit too much like a challenge. Even if Sukuna didn’t want to do so.

“Watch it, dog. After this I could have your head on a pike and no one would even bat a fucking eye.”

Sukuna could see the anger unknowingly poured on every little detail of his expression. Even his posture was calling for a fight, and the knight wondered if he would try to hit him again. Maki had teached him a few things to make sure he could, at least, try to protect himself at all times, so this could be the perfect time for Megumi to put those lessons into practice.

Rage was a very rare thing to see in the Prince features. He was easily annoyed, and more often than not, people around him made him feel very frustrated, but rage… that was something completely new, and now it was directed at Sukuna.

The enchanting spark the knight was always so mesmerized by, had turned into hellish flames that burned so close to the surface of his very being, that they painted his cheeks with a glowing red. His gaze could only be described as murderous, and it was fascinating. Seeing that fire inside a vessel so pure, that was always so cold, it felt like experiencing the itchy burn of an icy contact for the first time.

Sukuna couldn’t avert his eyes, his own anger was melting before his heat, and desire was the only thing left behind. He wanted to kiss him, to feel those flames consuming him as well, scarring his skin forever as their bodies finally met with no clothes left in between.

Megumi’s own eyes didn’t leave his face for a long minute, as if he was trying to decipher some occult message with not much success. He was waiting for the knight's response, but that was a task too difficult for him when he could almost taste the other’s breath on his lips. And then, just as if standing that close to Sukuna was equally difficult for the Prince, he simply stepped back.

Once he reached the desk placed in the center of his room, Megumi stopped to lean against it. From there, he stared at Sukuna with the same raw intensity, trying to figure out what the knight was thinking without the added pressure of their proximity.

“Well? Are you going to explain yourself, Ser Ryomen, or shall I call for a Torture Master to make you talk?”

The alcove had a disposition quite similar to the one Megumi had at home, and when he crossed his arms over his chest with his pouty lips forced into a deep scold, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel like they had done this before.

“I was protecting the Prince, your grace.” He stated, lowering his head for a brief moment as if that could help him gain his favor again.

When he raised, Sukuna took a few steps forward as he continued his response. The distance between them was too big, too painful, he needed to get closer.

“Lord Gojo was behaving inappropriately and I saw the need to intervene, so I did just that.”

“You are not fit to decide anything, Ser Ryomen. Your eyes can not see what truly matters, and because of you I’ve felt such a great embarrassment…” He made a brief pause, holding himself back as he took a deep breath.

The knight could tell that he wanted to groan, to scream his frustration out of his system, but he would never do that, he was too polite, too trained in the art of perfection to make sounds like those. He was about to continue reproaching him instead, but Sukuna didn’t allow it, speaking out of turn without even noticing.

“The Lord was touching you without your permission! He was insulting you and your status, he had to be stopped!”

Habitude led his hand to the hilt of his sword, as if violence could be any solution in a situation like this. His fighting instincts, of course, couldn’t know that it wasn’t the case, and even if he would never consciously harm Megumi, the knight forced himself to keep his other fist tightly closed and pressed against his side. It was bad enough that he was raising his voice in front of the Prince, he didn’t want his own body to betray him and do something even more stupid. Or worse, to give the impression that he wanted to hurt Megumi as well.

“That’s for me to decide. I decide what is insulting and if it must be stopped or not. Not you, Ser.” Megumi responded, uncrossing his arms so he could express his anger even further. “If anyone has offended me today, it has been you, Ser Ryomen.”

Sukuna was confused, all he had been trying to do, since the very beginning, was to protect the Prince. Every day he woke up with that in mind, it was his only purpose and reason to keep breathing. How on earth could he be at fault then!? Unless…

The knight scoffed, his expression suddenly turning darker as he raised his chin. “Then, was his grace enjoying himself with the way he was being touched?”

“How dare you ask that to the Prince?!” The red on his cheeks turned into bloody crimson, but the anger was getting mixed with something else. “I am not a pitiful cortensan you can buy to warm up your bed with a few coins or forced sweet words, Lord Sukuna.”

Despite the blush and the new outburst of rage, his voice didn’t quiver in the slightest. If anything, he sounded more firm, more definitive and dangerous. He was no longer leaning against the desk, but fully standing in front of it, staring at Sukuna as one would look at the piece of shit that had ruined their day.

“I will not allow this absolute lack of respect, and for your words I shall disposses you of your markings.”

What? He couldn’t do that!

The marks were part of his own skin, and to remove them Sukuna would have to be skinned alive, and even that could still not be enough. In all their history, there were no records of any member of the Ryomen family who had even tried to erase those marks, no one had needed to have it done. You either gained the markings or not, you lived an honorable life with them, or you died while fulfilling your duty.

If the Prince seriously wanted to strip him of his ancestor’s legacy, Sukuna would become the first to ever be dishonored in such a shameful way. The first Ryomen guilty of a disappointment so great it had cost the pride and joy of the entire family. He would never allow that, he’d much rather put an end to his own life than bring such a big shame upon his clan.

“Your grace can’t do that.” He was too afraid to voice those words in anything but a breathless whisper, the consequences of his actions were finally catching up with him. “There is no way to remove them, your grace, you are well aware of it.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Ser, I will make sure to find a way.”

His tone was sharp and almost mocking. The knight didn’t doubt that Fushiguro would do everything in his power to eventually find the perfect method to force him into a life of shame without his markings. Sukuna had never seen him so deadly serious. His chest raised and fell still at an irregular rhythm, trying to catch up with all the emotions he felt simmering inside, but his voice was calm, and that was terrifying.

Sukuna understood then that he had to apologize if he wanted to save his honor and position. He could hear his own rapid heartbeat throbbing uncomfortably in his ears, the air he breathed didn’t seem to reach his lungs at all, and yet, he mustered the will to bow down once more, this time lowering his head until his chin met the little skin his shirt left uncovered.

“I am truly sorry, your grace. I have overstepped the limits of your trust and kindness.” Even his voice was deeper than usual, constrained by the threat that still lingered in the room. “I shouldn’t have asked such a thing, nor implied what I have implied.”

Now it was Megumi’s turn to scoff, allowing seconds to stretch into minutes as the knight remained facing the floor, too afraid to do anything but wait. 

“So you do know how to be good, Ser Ryomen.” There was a thick coat of cynicism covering those words, making them too poisonous to be considered a praise. “Yet, I’m afraid that won’t do, Ser.”

Sukuna raised his head just a bit, just so he could see the Prince’s ruthless expression and piercing eyes striking his soul with sharp precision. Confusion painted his features and in response, Megumi had the mercy to add:

“That is not enough, Ser Ryomen.”

The knight lowered his head again, desperately thinking in which way he could please his grace, which words could have been missing in his initial apology… His lips parted anew, taking a deep breath as he resigned to do the only thing he had swore to himself he wouldn’t do that night.

“I’m sorry, my Prince, for taking unacceptable liberties and interfering in royal affairs without your previous knowledge or consent. I apologize for my actions against Lord Satoru Gojo’s wellbeing and the trouble it might have caused to your grace.” The words felt like acid on his tongue as he forced them out just for the Prince’s satisfaction. “I will gladly accept the punishment your grace deems fit for these lowly actions.”

Megumi hummed, as if he was evaluating his apology with no real interest. He heard his movements, the textile brushing against textile and the soft crack of wooden furniture, but not a response. A cold sweat had already started to coat his nape, as he was dying to raise his head again and look at the Prince, desperate to search for any clue that could tell him if he had done well. But he was too afraid, thinking that perhaps even this little motion could make the boy even angrier.

It had been hard enough to apologize for something he didn’t consider to be an error, to contain his own frustration and anger, just so he could prove himself worthy of serving Megumi once more. But he didn’t know if he could stand being toyed by him like this for much longer. He needed to know what was happening behind those pretty emeralds, he needed to see the approval in his eyes, he needed to know himself forgiven.

However, when he finally managed to steal a peek at his grace, almost shyly for the first time in his life, still feeling this strange weight crushing his heart and spirit, he found no approval on the Prince’s features. Only a wicked amusement curving his pouty lips and the shadow of something cruel covering his gaze. It sent chills down his spine, a fear he hadn’t met ever before. He didn’t even know if it was actually fear, or something else. Something different that made him wait for the worst just as much as it lured him to get closer.

Megumi had returned to his previous position, leaning against the edge of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look angry anymore, but Sukuna doubted that it was actually a good sign. Something had changed, a subtle shift that had turned the air thicker and almost dangerous to breathe.

“Well, that was better, but… I’m afraid that would still not be enough, Ser.” There was nothing but feigned pity on his tone. “If you want me to consider forgiving you, you must prove that you are sincerely sorry.”

Sukuna was lost, his own heartbeats had gotten so loud it was almost the only thing he could hear. There were at least half a dozen questions rambling in his mind, trying to overpower the constant throbbing so he could finally ask one out loud.

What was he supposed to do? What did he want from him? How could he set this right?

“Do it again, Ser. And do it properly this time.”

For an instant, Sukuna saw the same enjoyment Megumi had shown him to put the knight under his spell during their very first official encounter, the same glowy ecstasy incited by a power very few could ever get to know. Then his mouth created the cruelest contradiction, one of a sweet smile and a vile order.

“Apologize, on your knees.”

What?

Sukuna wanted to refuse. He wanted to complain, arguing that only before their Gods a man should put both knees on the ground. Before their kings, lords and ladies, tradition established that one leg had to remain flexed and straight, as there was no man or woman who could ever receive the same respect and reverence as their Gods. And yet, Megumi was asking for that, and much more.

It was not a matter of faith, the Prince was not testing his pious soul or the strength of his beliefs. Megumi Fushiguro was testing how far he could go to prove his fealty to him, recognizing him not only as his superior, but as someone worthy of the same devotion that was only granted to their Gods.

Sukuna had dreamt countless nights about worshiping the same prince that now stood before him with malicious eyes and a challenging smirk, but this was not a dream. He was in the waking world, a world in which the tiniest of details had the deepest meaning, and every action could quickly become the reason for an early death. What Megumi was asking of him, even in private, had almost as much value as his accolade, and the events that had led him into asking it in the first place, made the entire situation even more compromising for the knight.

He was willing to abandon his Gods if that was what Megumi wanted of him. He was ready to devote himself to his wishes, body and soul, even if that meant to throw himself into the pits of eternal damnation. But he was asking this, as he made the knight apologize for an error he could never consider as such, and he was fully aware of it. 

The Prince was not asking for his devotion, he was forcing him to relinquish it to him as a punishment, so Sukuna could never forget this lesson.

“Do I have to repeat myself, dog?”

He was enjoying it, but Sukuna was still too caught up in his own anger, to see it as nothing more than another step towards his absolute humiliation. That familiar call for destruction was already running through his veins, flooding his systems with the need to spread the same fire he kept within himself in the outside world. It was a comforting evil he knew very well, but an evil nevertheless, and he couldn’t slip up in front of the Prince.

The knight made his decision and slowly sank to his knees, setting them on the floor only a few steps away from Megumi, while refusing to avert his gaze from those two emeralds that now stared at him from above. He looked just like a god, merciless and yet so devastatingly beautiful, Sukuna could feel his anger falter and start to weaken before such a creature.

He stayed this way for a few seconds, with his torso perfectly straight and his head tilted upwards so he could keep studying Megumi’s every reaction. He seemed pleased, and the gleam in his eyes turned even brighter when his tongue slipped over his bottom lip so carefully it almost went unnoticed. But how could Sukuna miss anything that mouth did?

When Megumi leaned his torso slightly forwards to get a bit closer to the knight, the color of his cheeks had softened, the crimson was no longer caused by anger, rather by an equally sinful heat. Even if his grace was trying to appear cruel and mean, his entire body expressed a mischievous desire that had nothing to do with vicious punishments.

Sukuna had seen it many times in his life, he had even caught glimpses of it in Megumi’s own movements, but this was the first time it appeared so evident. Lust, a craving the Prince could also experience and the most elusive truth about his grace, now presenting itself before his very eyes, melting the knight’s anger into something they could share.

“Apologize.” A whispered command, causing goosebumps to rise all over the man’s body.

The blouse was loose enough to allow Sukuna a little peek of Megumi’s collarbones and pale skin. His chest seemed to have never been touched by sunlight, much in contrast with Ryomen’s own tanned frame, but even from that distance, he could appreciate the few moles that marked his skin. Tiny bits of color that now he needed to taste. The mere idea forced him to hold back a groan.

If he extended his arm, his hand would most likely be able to reach his neck and pull him down enough for his mouth to meet his throat, finally satiating a thirst Sukuna felt enslaved by. He wanted to do it, so desperately…

His eyes escaped the temptatious vision firstly finding his delicate hands, stained with the same vermilion Sukuna had caused, and then falling to his hips. He was not completely seated over the desk, but his legs were spread wide enough to create an even more dangerous illusion. It was almost as if he was kneeling in between Megumi’s legs, with his crotch closer than ever to his eye level and only a few layers of cloth keeping him away from Sukuna’s tongue.

The knight didn’t know if he should consider Megumi’s choice of dressing for today a blessing or a curse, but his imagination was running wild with it. The fabric of his tight fitting pants defined his legs with starving precision, almost exposing all the soft curves and sinful secrets of his body.

“I apologize, my Prince…” Sukuna felt his mouth going dry as he finally connected their eyes again. “For thinking of myself as anything more than your lowly servant, yours to command and reprehend in whatever manner his grace might deem appropriate.”

He sounded breathless, even in his own ears, but neither the panic nor the underlying anger still lurking in his guts had anything to do with it. It was not fury what now caused liquid fire to run through his veins, but something just as primal, and perhaps, way more difficult to conceal. It was an appetite that became more and more obvious also in Megumi’s gaze, blurring the once-rich green with a darkness so intense, soon there would be nothing but pure obsidian to look at.

Sukuna’s lips remained slightly parted as he lost himself in that new picture of the Prince. All the subtle details, the little changes in his expression, fragments of a young man that was like Megumi, but not quite the same. Those differences embodied a version of the Prince Ryomen hadn’t seen yet in his final form, but that he was very eager to meet. It was feline and demanding, in such a delicate way it became everything on Sukuna’s mind.

His mere presence consumed it all, to the point he felt he lacked the will to even move, or to think about what he would like to do in a moment like this. He had become his master’s puppet, just as he had demanded to, and only his orders could set him in motion.

Megumi’s hair framed his beautiful face like traces of messy black ink, and all the light filling the room poured its golden glow over his figure from the wall behind his back, as if he was surrounded by a halo of raw power. The Prince was yet as ethereal as ever, but now, he stared down at him like an angel who’s ready to fall for all their sins.

Perhaps an angel condemned by the same lustful thoughts and desires for which the knight found himself begging for mercy at his very feet. Perhaps those same cravings were the reason for his tragic falling, induced by a hunger too intense to be satiated with pleasures foreign to those of the mortal realm.

Sukuna wetted his bottom lip, feeling the famish uselessly pulling him closer to the Prince, as Megumi tortured him with a new overpleased smile.

“If your words are sincere, tomorrow morning you will apologize to Satoru as well.” A veiled command. “You don’t have to kneel of course, you only kneel for me.”

He talked as if it was the most mundane thing to say, as if every day he had dozens of men on their knees for him, praying to him like a god. As if Sukuna wasn’t giving up on his pride and soul just for his enjoyment.

Megumi leaned back again, taking away from him that little peek of his chest he had been devouring with his eyes, just as he placed one hand over the table to support his weight. He allowed the other palm to lazily rest over his upper thigh, and Sukuna couldn’t avert his gaze from it. 

Then he continued. “I must be completely sure this won’t happen ever again, Ser. I can’t walk around without knowing if my guarding dog will lash out whenever he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. Do you understand, Ser Ryomen?”

He blindly nodded, too focused on his long fingers still covered with fading red, lingering too fucking close to where Megumi’s hip met his leg, almost falling towards the inside of his thigh. His hand was visibly relaxed, there was no way he could be doing that on purpose, and yet, Sukuna could only think about those same blood-stained fingers wrapping around his length.

But the Prince hadn’t resumed his talking, so the knight felt forced to raise his eyes to meet his again. Megumi was waiting for more, and even if the knight didn’t know what else he had to offer his grace, he responded.

“I can assure you my Prince, I won’t misbehave in this way again.” Heat coated every syllable slipping past his lips, deepening his voice until it sounded nearly animalistic.

“Oh, then you will find other ways to misbehave? Is that what you’re saying, Ryomen?”

It was a remark too sharp to be part of this teasing game Megumi sometimes liked to play, but it was not as cold as a proper scolding should be. Sukuna almost couldn’t repress a needy groan.

“What I am saying, your grace…” The knight lowered his head again, desperately escaping the sight before him as he tried to prove just how much he truly respected him. “Is that, from now on, I will not proceed in any way that could endanger or anger the Prince without previously consulting it with your grace. I understand now, that it is your words that must guide my actions, not my impulses.”

A few seconds of silence filled the room with an uncomfortable wait, until new sounds of cloth and old wood warned the knight of Megumi’s movements.

Soon after, Sukuna felt deft fingers seizing the short hairs growing at the back of his neck, pulling them roughly until he was forced to tilt his head upwards and meet the dark pools of his gaze tearing his soul apart. The knight clenched his jaw, fighting back the groan prompted by the tiny dose of pain that fed his already growing arousal.

“I really hope there will not be another misstep, Ser, because a rabid dog is of no use for his master.” Even if the ruthless expression had returned to his features, there was a certain rush in his eyes, a delight of some sort that made the blood in Sukuna’s body flood to his groin dangerously fast.

“There won’t be, my Prince.”

Those two words felt even sweeter than usual on his tongue as he looked at Megumi from below, only a breath away from finally tasting his core. He was so close his own lips betrayed him, remaining slightly parted while his mouth started watering as if he were a beast in mating season.

“Great, it would be a pity having to get rid of such a good dog, after all the time I’ve spent training you in political issues.” His eyes danced around Sukuna’s features, lingering in his hazy gaze before falling to his lips for no more than a few seconds.

From the markings engraved on his skin, the tiny scar on his forehead and the faint freckles that had managed to survive the winter hidden right below his eyes; to the deep red overpowered by blown wide pupils and that eager mouth of his, Megumi took it all in. And only when he seemed pleased enough with his scrutiny, after making Sukuna feel like his most precious possession, like perhaps his lips would find joy in their long-desired feast of delicate flesh, only then did he loosen his grip on the knight's hair.

The Prince took a step back, too slow to be described as anything but reluctant, and immediately after, he turned to sit on the chair behind the desk, this time moving faster, as if he feared what could happen if he didn’t reach his seat quickly enough. Sukuna, however, was left feeling suddenly cold and weak without his proximity and touch overwhelming his senses.

"You can go now, Ser." His voice became once again distant and uninterested, the calculating diplomat was back and he needed to get his work properly checked. "Send Nobara to me before retiring to your room."

The knight was too shocked by this rapid change of demeanor to do more than begrudgingly stand up, now painfully aware of the shameful state he was in.

Fuck.

"Yes, my Prince." He turned around as soon as he could, hoping those papers over Megumi's table were important enough to prevent the Prince from noticing the obvious bulge on his pants.

He moved quickly towards the door, but before he could open it and leave, his grace spoke again for a last time.

"I appreciate your efforts, Sukuna… But believe me when I say that, as a Prince, I won't hesitate to order your execution if this happens again. Even if that would cause me great pain."

The knight took a deep breath, refusing to turn back in fear of what the Prince could discover if he lowered his gaze, and of all the emotions he might be able to find in Megumi's features after saying those painfully honest words. They were alone in this world after all, owned by one another in so many ways it was impossible to untangle their fates. Even if the Gods tried, Sukuna doubted they could keep them apart for too long.

Sukuna was his property, and he felt the Prince’s ownership extending all over his heart and soul, until it was changed and transformed into something that was shared instead of forced. Megumi was also owned in a way the knight doubted he could even comprehend yet.

"I know." He replied with a steady voice, still facing the door and ready to leave. "And I would never make you suffer like that."

The silence stretched again as his legs remained unmoving. Despite the voice in the back of his mind urging him to go, he was unable to muster the will to finally leave his presence. He simply didn’t want to, but his tended pants wouldn’t get any less tended by just standing in front of the Prince. He didn't even know for sure if his grace had already noticed his shameful state, but definitely he couldn’t push his luck any more than he had already done that day, nor allow him to discover the weight of his carnal desires.

And yet, he stayed there for what it felt like hours, until the words he truly wanted to say finally left his chest. A stupid whim that could become the final nail in his coffin if his grace was still mad at him.

"Goodnight, Megumi."

Sukuna held his breath, hoping not to hear the well deserved scolding he should get for not addressing the Prince properly. But something extraordinary happened instead.

"Goodnight, Sukuna."

Voiced with the same soft vulnerability as his previous confession, almost like those shy promises lovers oftenly exchanged before falling asleep in each other’s arms —if the happy stories Sukuna had heard about them were true. The knight smiled, the heated burn on his lower belly mixing a different type of warmth that could last for days, even weeks, and give him the strength he needed to live another day.

None of the artists of their time had ever been close to describing what he felt for Megumi Fushiguro, neither bards nor painters seemed to be able to portray the vastness of emotions swirling within him due to Megumi’s mere existence. But there was no doubt for him now. He feared the word and all that it entailed, all the damage it could cause, but there was no reason to keep denying it. There was no turning back, there never had been.

~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this fragment, you can read more of my Skfs Medieval Au here. This belongs to Chapter 2, but currently there are 6 chapters (169.6k words) posted with many more heated moments like this!!

Love,