As gleaming rays of sun light sifted through the cracks in the blinds of Kid and Crona's perfectly symmetrical bedroom, Crona found himself thinking so hard, his face was turning red. He shifted a little in the nest of Kid's arms, burying his nose in the sleek skin of the young man's throat. He remembered a time when he wanted to rip out that throat, when the black blood consumed his very being. He had spent much of his time being afraid, wondering how on earth he could control it—keep Ragnarok from bursting from him and killing the enemies he had become so attached to.
Crona sighed softly, his breath ghosting over Kid's skin. Kid flinched a little bit and suddenly, Crona became afraid that he would wake up. But he glance at the clock over his lover's shoulder and saw that it was still a few minutes before eight and there was no way on God's green earth that Kid would wake up before then. He resigned himself to thinking again.
Looking up at Kid's handsome face, Crona wondered how on earth he had gotten there, how he had managed to gain such amazing friends and such a wonderful lover. His life had always been a whirlwind of terror and madness, but then suddenly he had found himself in the arms of more people head ever spoken to in his life. He reached behind him and touched the scar that had once been Ragnarok's passage into the physical world. It had healed for good, a reminder that his past life was no longer the one he was living.
"Crona," A voice said, calm and calculating. "You're thinking too hard again." Kid took a slim finger and attempted to smooth the crease between Crona's eyebrows. Crona looked up with wide eyes. He had no idea how Kid could sound so alert when he knew he had just woken up mere moments ago.
"Kid, b-but—"
Kid, however, would have none of it. "No, I know what you're thinking about. Stop it right now." Then he pressed his lips softly to Crona's drawing a surprised mewl from the pink-haired boy. Kid rolled over slowly until he was on top of Crona, and, despite the arms caging him in and pinning him to the mattress, Crona felt...safe and wanted.
The pair moved their lips softly against each other, only stopping when Kid moved his lips down Crona's pale and slim neck. "Kid!" Crona gasped, rolling his head softly to the side.
"Yes?" Kid asked teasingly, lingering under Crona's jaw.
"I-I need you! N-now, please!"
"As you wish," Kid murmured. He trailed his fingers slowly over Crona's skin, stopping when he reached Crona's already-hard cock. He pumped it a few times, enjoying Crona's lewd cries and gasps before moving his fingers down to Crona's ass. The younger boy was already loose from their romp in the sack the previous night, but Kid was careful as always with Crona. He probed at Crona's entrance, earning a shocked, but aroused shout. He slipped inside without much trouble, but he still wanted to be sure.
Crona was delicate, thin, and perfect, and Kid was so terribly afraid of breaking him.
After a few minutes of prepping him in the slow, careful light of the morning, Crona cried out, "Kid! P-please, I'm r-ready."
Kid did not answer, he merely removed his fingers and replaced them with his own cock in one fluid motion. The resulting cry from Crona's lips burned into Kid's mind, spurring him on. His thrusts were slow and smooth, but just as passionate as their most reckless romps. Their hips moved together quicker and quicker, moving together towards completion.
And then, with pale yellow rays of sunlight filtering through Kid's blinds, they reached their climax together, Kid whispering a promise against Crona's hair.
"I will be with you always."