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In the dark, Yukine thinks.
He thinks about whether that girl Nora regalia was ever allowed to touch Yato like this. If she was ever privy to this side of the god, if they had skin-to-skin contact that shot electricity up her spine and made her brain turn to mush, if she’d ever heard the absolutely immoral sounds that he makes as he unraveled inside her.
His mind races as he thinks about him on top of her as she writhes underneath the god, his god. It makes his stomach churn, makes bile rise up his throat until he feels like vomiting. But there is nothing, only air, and he is dry-heaving. Still, the back of his mouth tastes unforgivingly acrid. Tonight, Yukine learns what resentment tastes like.
Yato is asleep beside him, exhausted from their exploits. Yukine was too. If he was being honest, he’d love nothing more than for the gentle arms of sleep to take him in and give him a peaceful night’s dream. But Yato’s breath fans onto the top of his head, and his arms encircle Yukine’s small frame. And Yato is so, so warm and he smells so, so good. Yukine truly feels like vomiting now.
His mind is racing a hundred miles an hour. How long had Yato had Nora? Did he have others before her? Of course he did, Yukine scowls. He’s a god and he’s been around a pretty long time. Way before the universe even conceived of the idea of Yukine.
“Shut up with your thoughts already,” Yato says, and Yukine freezes. He hadn’t known the god was awake. He probably felt a stinging in the back of his neck from all the petty and resentful things the teen had been thinking.
Yukine purses his lips. “Sorry.”
Minutes pass in silence. It is deafening in the dark room. Yukine almost puts his hands up to cover his ears. Instead, he chews his lips raw, begging his mind to stop so he could finally fall asleep.
“Didn’t I tell you you’re the only one I need?”
Yukine immediately looks up, but Yato’s eyes are closed. Perhaps Yukine’s head was just playing tricks with him. Another minute passes in silence. Yukine looks down, starts to make a ball of himself.
“Sleep,” the god suddenly says. “I’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow.”
Yukine breathes, nods to himself. At least tomorrow, he still had Yato. “Okay.”
He truly shouldn’t be asking for more. After all, he was only a regalia and he was a god and there were oceans you couldn’t cross no matter how hard you tried.
“And all the tomorrows after that.”
Yukine looks up abruptly, stares at the god’s resting face. He shouldn’t believe his words because believing would only hurt him. After all, hope and despair were two sides of the same coin, and Yukine didn’t want to play this game anymore. But… but when he looks at his god, somehow… somehow, he knows Yato is telling the truth.
He breathes, nods to himself. “Okay.”
He sleeps.