Chapter Text
Katana slowly brushed a loc out of his husband’s face, smiling down at the demon resting on his lap. Luminance from the afternoon sun seeped through the skylight, painting their faces with rays of sunshine. The demon resting on him was fast asleep, mouth slightly ajar as he further lost himself to the waves of sleep. The samurai couldn’t blame him, the comfort of each other was often enough to lull one or another to a slumber.
He cuffed his partner’s right horn, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. He could see the way his husband shivered but melted into his touch, a soft purr leaking from his cords. Katana felt the vibrations of his lover sink into his own body, making his skin prickle.
The samurai’s hand slowly released his horn, joining with his other resting on his collarbone. He traced over the dimples and scars in his skin with his digits, making sure every inch of him was loved properly. Just as he deserved.
His fingers continued their work as he glanced up. The sunlight had began to move across the walls, giving attention to his many art pieces. There were paintings, calligraphy, scripture, swords, and antiques dressing the surfaces. A piece of history and a standing representation on how he had learned, grown, and healed.
His work station lay before the pair, a low table with its face covered with various inks, paints, brushes, and paper. There were various other pieces of furniture as well. Most being bookshelves with collections of trinkets and rocks his lover had gifted him. Aside from that, there was an alter sitting in the corner. Small incense sticking out of a handcrafted holder, plumes of smoke still rising out of the sticks. A small photo sat in the center of the surface, an offering of food before it. Katana quickly glanced away.
The weaving of the bamboo mat below him was the first thing that stole his attention, realizing how the strands dug into his thighs. The samurai adjusted slightly, gently lifting his counterpart’s head as he shifted his legs. The demon resting on him let out a small groan of protest, his four eyes fluttering open as he came to his senses and woke. He shot Katana look, pouting.
Without a word Banhammer flipped himself over, wrapping his arms around Katana’s waist as he buried his head into the padding of his robe. He inhaled sharply, tugging him closer as he breathed in the scents of his lover. The samurai let out a faint gasp of laughter, his hands lifting back from surprise.
“Oh- my dear..” Katana cooed quietly, face returning to his usual soft smile. He slowly guiding his hands back to his partner’s head, running his hands through his locs. Banhammer only grumbled slightly, painfully obvious that he was half asleep.
“Mhhh… you cant…” He whined, voice breathy and tired. Katana shushed him lovingly.
“Shh.. I do not plan on leaving.” He whispered reassuringly. His digits skillfully traced through Banhammer’s hair, massaging his scalp whole he whispered sweet nothings. Eventually his palms found their way back to his face. They lightly rested on his cheeks, softly outlining his husband’s markings.
The warden’s grip loosened a bit, in exchange starting to lean deeper into Katana. This was a rather uncomfortable position for the samurai’s arms, causing him to drop the poise his limbs held. With this, Banhammer practically toppled onto his husband, head was now cleverly wedged into his chest. His hands were now lowered and slyly placed under Katana so he could cuff his haunch. He raised an eyebrow, looking quizzically down at his partner.
Banhammer mumbled something incoherent, lifting his head up so his chin rested on his jugular notch. He smiled cheekily, tusks gleaming in the sunlight. Katana sighed, rolling his eye as he put on a false frown. He readjusted and laid his palms on the back of his head, shifting slightly as he adjusted to the weight of the demon atop him.
“You’re heavy.” Katana deadpanned. Banhammer frowned, watching as his husband’s eye welled in amusement from his reaction.
“Momma says that im just big-boned, not heavy!” He retorted, leaning his head to the side and resting on the samurai’s collarbone. He huffed and playfully rolled his eyes once more, hands moving to either side of his partner’s cranium to keep him in place.
“Thats fine, you know I wouldn’t have you any other way.” The samurai whispered, leaning closer to Banhammer. “You’re truly perfect to me, heavy or not.” He hummed out, landing a kiss on his forehead. The warden’s irises widened, his face flushing a pleasant pink. He squealed like a girl, soon devolving into a slow whistle as he glanced away. Katana let out a tired but sympathetic sigh.
“No need to hide, my love.” He cooed, using his hand to tilt Banhammer back toward’s him. He could feel his cheeks growing in heat and luster.
“Tana-“ He squeaked, grip on his husband tightening. Katana smirked and chuckled softly. Banhammer bit his lip, shutting his eyes to avoid his smug look. He flopped his head back down onto his collarbone, nuzzling into any skin he touched.
The two continued to love each other, silently, of course. There were exchanged of kisses, cuddles, and of course some loving touches. The warp tips of Katana’s fingers worked their magic on Banhammer, quickly lulling him back to sleep after a few minutes of messing around.
Light continued to pour from the skylight, warming their bodies. Banhammer had already fallen asleep, half of his body starting to slump off of Katana. Speaking of Katana, his face was flushed a pleasant red and eyes half lidded. He too was losing the uphill battle of staying awake. The attention, touch, and love fed to him by his partner only made it harder to melt to sleep under him.
The samurai’s pupil stared up into the sky of Thieves Den. He patiently watched as birds toiled about in the great blue, accompanied by stray petals flowing mindlessly in the wind. The clouds were fluffy and constant, adorning the heavens with wonderful shapes and patterns of white. All of this only added to the beauty of the day, Windforce must’ve been happy today.
Katana hummed softly in appreciation. He always had an extreme amount of respect for that demon. After all she had raised and housed his husband for 46 (most likely) grueling years, no doubt dealing with his countless pranks and problems. But even with the burden that was her son, she kept him safe right up until Banhammer and his antics were handed off to him. Via their promising, of course.
He redirected his attention back to his lover, who was now drooling with his tongue limp out of his mouth. There were small droplets of saliva on his neck, but he didn’t mind. Certainly wasn’t the first time that Banhammer had left something there. Katana exhaled sharply, burying the memory of their previous cuddles in the back of his mind.
The love they shared for each other was just about enough to enable him to forget about his past. He had a rather unsavory childhood and a horrid set of events that had laced his life with uncertainty. A fear that someone will come and get him. A fear that his most beloved things would be once again pried from his hands. A fear that he would lose himself when he was just starting to enjoy again.
But Banhammer-… He gave Katana all the love he missed out on as a child. His touch was gentle, his kisses unforced, his words true, and his heart.
Oh his heart..
It had to be the most precious thing ever, to him at the very least.
It allowed that great demon to live, allowed him to love.
And with that love, he chose Katana.
He chose to spend the rest of his life with him despite the ups and downs he would no doubt have to experience with Katana by his side. He still treated him with kindness and respect, something the samurai was not used to. He used his time and energy to pamper him and give him things he never had. And when he held him and comforted him his words were true, not dressed in a cloud of lies.
Katana committed every instance of the two to memory. It was a balm to his aching soul, a cure to the memories that haunted and ailed him.
How Banhammer would wake Katana in the morning with a gentle kiss to his lips. He would give the half-asleep samurai his favorite tea while he undid his ponytail and brushed his hair. It was a daily occurrence, he had done it from the very beginning of their relationship. First sprouting from when Katana opened up about not understanding how to care for his own hair. This was due to self being overshadowed by duty in the cult.
When Ban came home he didn’t bother about throwing off his armor, instead rushing to Katana and scooping him up. Despite usually being exhausted from work, he always found it in himself to swing and twirl him around. He would swoon and flush over his lover, kissing and hugging him till both were left panting. It was like Katana recharged his energy. (The sun to his moon, possibly.) Then he would shyly present his counterpart a gift; an antique to add to his collection or a rock he found interesting. The samurai would smile, peck him on the cheek, and hold his hand as they found a place to display it.
The way he would bathe him, pampering and worshipping his body like he was some sort of god. His fingers would work tirelessly to give Katana nothing but pleasure and comfort. The digits would roam over every curve and contour of his person, washing him gently and cleansing him of any doubts he had before. And of course if the two were a bit too tired, they would lounge in each other’s embrace. Their bodies hugged by warm water and bubbles. The warden had always made sure the samurai was cared for, one way or another.
And of course, many, many, many other examples.
When Katana had first got into a relationship with him, hr had over analyzed it and seen it as a tactic of manipulation. As if Banhammer would bare his fangs and snap at his throat if he let his guard down to much. This inevitably led to him pushing him away, rejecting him and the love he held for the warden.
He did come around though, his was obvious, portrayed by the promise rings sitting on each of their horns.
But for that to happen, the samurai had to teach himself to love.
He taught himself to melt into his touch, to reciprocate his love, to bring down the walls that guarded his heart. He had done it hesitantly, expecting Banhammer to scar it up like so many others. But he didn’t, instead gently showing him his plans as he grazed his soul with the tips of his fingers. His calm voice soothed his aching mind, his whispers of reassurance building up Katana’s trust.
And he opened like a flower. He spilled his insides on Banhammer, letting his sweet demi-god know the pains he housed. He sobbed in his arms, begging for him to never leave his side- And he didn’t. He didn’t use Katana’s trust against him, he didn’t hurt him while he was shaking and exposed. He only held him close, never drawing a blade or manipulating his sensitivity once.
The samurai lost himself in a flood of thoughts, eyes blinking slowly and eventually resting closed. His mind was a mix of memories of him and Banhammer, sweet like the tea they drunk together. He could feel the warmth of the man atop him melt into his own heat, burying his head in a senseless cloud of slumber. The demon he loved oh so much, cuddling into him as the two basked in the sunlight.
It was okay to rest. He was safe, he was home in the arms of his beloved.