Chapter Text
When you touch me, my mind is gone. The only words I know are lost inside your body.
*
Kazuma does sting her, at first. Never badly enough to require an ablution, but enough to cause her pain. It’s a dangerously slippery slope - one twinge of guilt and Bishamon flinches, and then the discomfort on her face justifies his regret, and the cycle continues.
It is only at the end of a long road of reassurances and mental fortifications that they wind up here, with her hands in his hair and his tightly gripping her waist. The moment she kisses him his mind goes hazily, blissfully blank. There is no room for doubt, for guilt, for questioning the appropriateness of what he’s doing or how anyone would react if they knew; there is only the delightful feel of her lips against his and her hair brushing his cheek when she moves. She whispers his name against his mouth, assuring him with each warm breath that this is right.
This is right. It doesn’t matter what the heavens would say, it doesn’t matter that she is a god, it doesn’t matter that he is her shinki. It isn’t a sin if he feels no guilt, and why should he? She has gone to painstaking lengths to convince him that all of his desires are mutual. By some impossible chance, she wants to hold his hand, wants to nestle in his arms and fall asleep with her head tucked below his chin.
Perhaps as her guide he should have steered her away - put his foot down more firmly and insisted that she not waste her time and dignity on him. But Bishamon has always been stubborn, has never cared much for rules or reputation, and Kazuma could hardly argue when she held him close and whispered in his ear that everything a god does is right.
So he doesn’t think about it anymore. When she smiles at him, he buries any lingering urge to step back to a safe distance and instead smiles too, and feels more fulfilled than he has in centuries. When one of her hands drifts down his neck to gently scrape her fingers along his back, he thinks of nothing but the warmth of her body and the joy and comfort he can feel in every one of her movements. She pulls away only to kiss his cheek and jaw and then his neck, and he’s vaguely but blissfully aware that in these moments, the only word running through his mind is her name.
This is right. It feels right to both of them, and that’s all that matters.