kis

Time to celebrate the addition of Ahriman/Khayon to AO3 as an established ship with something cute.

I’ve always missed most the kisses.

Even now, after frustrated decades of no touch, I long most not for Ahriman’s sex, but for his lips. He knows well how to deliver all tastes of affection on his tongue: passion, want, doting love.

After long years spent apart, he always comes for me needy and desperate; in sloppy dives, he wordlessly tells me about how he’s suffered in my absence, and I melt into his arms then, and I return what he gives with selfsame ardor, and I wait patiently for his sighing bites to turn into little pecks pressed softly into the corner of my mouth.

Other times, when he’s grown used to my presence, he kisses to invite. Taste by taste, he feeds me lewd promises, fills me with warm sighs; he takes my breath away and makes me addicted to his, until I blindly follow him behind closed doors.

Sometimes, most often before the daring warlords of the Eye, his kisses are a territorial affair. My frame is slight, and I do not stand tall beside Ahriman; whenever he so desires, he can sweep me into his arms and show clearly whom I belong to in a most overwrought fashion. Though I would never admit to it before his majesty, I lose all sense when he takes me so, when he lifts my chin to look up and then wanders his fingers across my throat as we trade with each other intimate sentiments; would that he asked my forgiveness after one such kiss, for I’d say yes, yes a thousand times, and I’d follow him wherever he’d keep embracing me so.

When he comes for me - and he will, Siroca, I am surer of that than anything - he will be apprehensive, laden with anger and sorrow, and it will fall to me to step towards him on shaky legs and pull him down to steal a hint of comfort from his lips. At first, he will taste of salt and blood; then, as I press my demand for darling care, the warmth of his mouth will dissolve those ashen aftertastes and serve me the true scent of his breath, wet and wanting.

May our shy, eager love be the last thing you witness before you’re dead and dust, Siroca, so that you meet your final night with the memory of one immortal romance.