{Chapter 1}
standing quietly together in the kitchen after long, exhausting days at work,
leaning into each other for support, breathing in the smell of home, fingers combing through hair
and stroking down spines, until they feel like they can relax and smile properly again
― prompt provided by otpdisasters at Tumblr
Always the first to leave and the last to return, Baralai trudges into their apartment, locking the door behind him. Heat pervades his body not a moment later, quelling the outside chill from his ruddy cheeks while carrying the heady scent of supper. Setting his keys aside in an ornamental bowl, he pulls out the top drawer of his bureau cabinet to stow away his letters for the day, not in the mood for distractions. Tonight, he wants to be with the woman he loves.
Baralai doubts she heard him enter, because Yuna always stops in the middle of her task to welcome him back. Her clinginess and enthusiasm used to overwhelm him in the beginning, always ambushing him in a hug the moment he stepped through their door, always eager to hear about his day even though he had nothing of real importance or interest to talk about (that he believed anyway). Now, her heartfelt embraces are the only thing holding him through the days. He treasures her devotion more than anything, because he had forgotten how it felt like to come home to someone waiting.
Removing himself of his vestment, he wanders into the living room to drape it across his armchair, before making his way to the kitchen, guided by the aroma of warm spices. Baralai pauses by the doorway, admiring Yuna in her newfound element. Neither of them were really talented at cooking, especially when it came to learning how to use these brand new, state-of-the-art machina appliances such as the electric "touch screen" stove and little "microwave" oven (both a Machine Faction trademark), but Yuna had been eager to accept the challenge. Watching her stir food inside the frying pan with practiced focus, Baralai smiles and sneaks up on her from behind.
She jumps when his arms curl around her waist, relaxing soon after to the touch of his lips on her neck, the echo of his weary voice in her ear.
"Good evening, my beloved." Baralai pauses to kiss her temple, peering over her shoulder. "What are you cooking?"
"Some vegetables with meat. Do you want a taste?" she says, offering a spoonful.
"Maybe." He hums, mischievous, guiding her hand to leave the wooden spoon and pan aside, so he can sneak in kisses and delight in the sound of her melodic laughter. "To be honest, I'd much rather have a taste of you."
She squeals at this, turning pink in the ears when Baralai nibbles her earlobe, and turns around to hold his shoulders while he moves to switch the stove off. He coaxes her into the corner of their connecting countertop, away from the dangerous, stifling heat and into his amorous embrace. His lips find hers in an instant, and he wraps wanton hands over the small of her back, pleased to feel her cling to him in turn.
Yuna digs her fingers beneath the fabric of his headband, sliding it off through the fluid motion of combing his hair. Her hands come back to cradle his face, smoothing the tension from his jaw, rubbing his cheekbones, his contours, his temples beneath the gentle sweep of her thumbs. She massages his head next, scratching his crown, his neck, caressing the firm lines of his collarbone, his chest through the plunging neckline of his tunic, tracing down the whole length of his spine, all the while delighting in his every moan and shiver of pleasure. Her loving ministrations encourage him to collapse into her, and she breaks away from their long series of slow kisses to smile. "Feel better? Hm?"
"Yes." Baralai breathes out a sigh, touching her forehead to his. "I can't live without you. I love you so much."
"I love you, too." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his nose, before swaying back on her heels, taking in the sight of his beautiful, brown eyes crinkling with content. Closing the distance in a single step, she rests her head on his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're home..."
Her voice echoes with such profound relief, it causes his heart to ache. He strokes her back to soothe her, sensing her unwind beneath the tender caress of his fingers; feeling his face own warm when she inhales his scent, the tip of her nose tickling his neck. Her hands roam his body, lingering where his muscles tense and his curves slope, taking in every inch of him ― something she does every time they reunite, no matter how long they have spent apart.
Baralai knows without having to ask: Yuna still suffers from the loss of her loved ones. She almost lost him, too, in the battle against Shuyin and Vegnagun. He knows that memory still haunts her sometimes, because it haunts him, too. They never talk about the nightmares they both endure on cold, restless nights, the ones where Baralai plays the organ like a demon possessed until Yuna finally arrives to exorcise the spirit out of him. They were both present in the Farplane, trapped in the lingering wills of lovers past. Whichever one wakes up first will always find themselves cradled in the other's embrace, anchored by unconditional love and concern.
Baralai pulls her back by the shoulders, ignoring the eerie familiarity of that simple motion as he gazes into her eyes, sees only blue and green, not brown, and sighs with divine relief. Upon perceiving the question in her bashful expression, he raises her hand to his cheek and gives her a shy smile. "I'm sorry I made you wait, but I'm here now. I'm home."
Yuna beams, radiant with adoration.
"Welcome home."