"Yato, you okay over there?"
The sound of his guidepost's voice did nothing to rouse Yatogami from his listless stupor as he lay face-first on his futon in Kofuku's attic. He could barely breathe through the heavy fabric, but it didn't really bother him very much; breathing was a reflex and technically unnecessary for a god, and right now he was counting on the lack of oxygen making his head foggy and slow.
"Yato?"
"Mmph," he huffed, annoyed, but he didn't move.
"Oi, what's up?" Yukine asked, drawing up to his master and poking him on the side of the head. Yato grudgingly turned his face to glare at the young Regalia.
"Nothin'," he grunted.
"You worried about Hiyori?"
At the sound of her name, something in Yato's soul perked up, sniffing hopefully. He tamped it down mercilessly, fighting it into submission with his entire being until all he felt was languid irritation once more.
"No," he lied, forcing himself to keep his head blank.
"She'll be back soon, it's just a check-up," Yukine told him anyway. As if Yato didn't already know exactly where Hiyori was and what she was doing there.
"Where's Amane?" he asked instead, letting his paternal instincts take over.
"Right next to you," Yukine clicked his tongue, gesturing behind Yato's futon. "She was supposed to be getting some tummy time, but she fell asleep a little while ago."
Yato turned over to see for himself. Just as Yukine had said, Yato's 11-week-old daughter was no more than a hand's breadth away on the futon adjacent to his own, her cherubic face soft and at peace. Her little tuft of soft black hair was really growing in now, adorning the crown of her head like a nest of raven's feathers and sticking up like one too whenever she woke from her naps. Rolls of adorable baby fat padded her pudgy arms and stubby legs, a perfectly healthy layer that never surpassed the normal range despite the fact that she ate like an insatiable gluttonous piglet. Her bare chest rose rhythmically as she snuffled, and when Yato reached out for her consciousness delicately, a whisper of a brush, her thoughts were no more than a soft bubble of colors and vague sensations, faint impressions of her waking life.
Yato smiled despite himself. Amane was always so perfect that it was impossible not to get wrapped up in her presence, even when he was preoccupied. It helped to have her nearby, though Yato couldn't quite shake the anxious, nervous energy of everything he was forcing himself not to think about.
Breathe, relax, he thought. Just think about Amane, don't go down any detours.
But as soon as he told himself that, the 'detours' beckoned him in for a closer look and he almost choked on the sheer force and heat of his famished aramitama.
It'd been a couple of days since Yato felt the string that was his sanity start to pull taut beyond his control. He knew exactly what it meant and had done his best to manage it on his own, but the measures he'd been using for the last half year were quickly losing their efficacy. That had never happened to him before; lust and violence went hand in hand for a combat deity, but in the old days, all he'd ever needed to settle his restless instincts was a bloody confrontation; barring that, he could never go wrong with his detailed imagination and a good magazine either.
But that was all before Hiyori. Before the girl he'd loved for years, the woman he treasured as the other half of his heart, took his hesitation, threw it from a window, and then loved him so thoroughly he could never be the same again. His soul couldn't sustain itself on half-hearted fantasies anymore, not when it had tasted the real thing and craved it so desperately it was like a sharp, cruel thorn in his belly, begging him to rip it out and fill the void with Hiyori's breath and scent, the softness of her breast and the sound of her overwhelmed voice calling his name.
It was a mark of how much Yato loved her and how wary he was of his own calamitous nature that he spent two months after that doing nothing more intimate than showering Hiyori with hugs and mostly restrained kisses whenever he got the chance. Hiyori had a lot on her mind with college exams approaching, and he was more than happy to wait until she had more time for him, even if his aramitama kept him awake with vivid memories and insatiable desire.
Then, of course, they'd realized she had gotten pregnant despite the fact that gods couldn't have children, thanks to the loophole that was Hiyori's detached spirit form. Gods, it turned out, could conceive only when they seeded a living soul rather than the body, and that soul could only nourish a new life if it then returned to the Near Shore and carried that seed back with them.
Yato had done his best not to bring up sex after that, even though it was killing him inside. He felt responsible for Hiyori's pain and discomfort, and he only slipped up once, after a terrible incident at his part-time job made him so anxious and afraid that he'd needed her touch just to stay grounded in the moment. He had only indulged it because she'd been in her spirit form again, and he avoided it again for the rest of her pregnancy. When it turned out that Amane was an extremely difficult child for a human to feed and nurture, he put his need aside all over again so he could support Hiyori's slow recovery.
But every time she went to the hospital for her post-partum checkups, Yato couldn't help the selfish little voice that prayed she'd return with a clean bill of health; each time she didn't, the string wound tighter and he kept himself together only through sheer will and devotion, and increasingly elaborate excuses to vanish for a little while and vent whatever he could.
If she comes back and it's the same result as last time, I think I'm going to need Yukine to chain me outside for the foreseeable future, he groaned inwardly. He buried his face back into his futon, forcing his breathing to slow down again, and waited.
He had the hours and minutes counted.
Yato never said that, but Hiyori knew it was true, just as she'd always known how hard he worked to hide his libido from her. She might be a little naive, and not always quite understand the specifics, but Hiyori wasn't a fool. She had tied her string of fate to a god with a taste for matters of the flesh, and she would be lying if she said she didn't understand that longing.
It was a little silly, really, how hard they both tried to pretend they didn't feel the tension every time they exchanged meaningful glances or shared a lingering touch on a hand or a shoulder. Hiyori had grown up so repressed by her sense of propriety that she just couldn't come out and say that she really, truly, wanted Yato in every sense of the word. Half of her pregnancy had been spent in the agonizing silence of her own desire; she knew Yato was too worried to initiate anything, but every time she tried to channel the courage that she'd used that first time, it just wouldn't come.
Why is it so hard for me to just come out and say it? We've been together for so long, and done so much, it shouldn't be a struggle to say I want to sleep with him.
The thought sent a shiver of warmth through her belly. She wished she hadn't been so hesitant to repeat the experience before she found out she was pregnant. It had had nothing to do with want; she wanted Yato to touch her so badly her skin always felt like fire just from having him near. His scent was irresistible, liquid heat, and she wanted to drown in it, wanted to fill herself up with it. She'd just been overly self-conscious, afraid she was becoming too shameless and improper. She hated that she'd felt that way; in the moment, she'd never considered the things Yato did to her as anything but a sincere, joyful expression of love. But after the fact, she couldn't help feeling embarrassed and confused.
That feeling lessened with her pregnancy, but she still floundered with getting the words out. She wished she could have convinced him she wasn't going to break or miscarry just because he held her.
Today though, today would be different, she knew as she sat in her mother's car on the drive home. Hiyori had felt the hunger in his gaze all week, and whether she gathered her courage or Yato took matters into her own hands, she knew that the minute she said she was cleared, all logic and excuses would go out the window. Yato had told her about his aramitama once, enough at least for her to know he couldn't keep it bottled up forever. Frankly, Hiyori didn't want him to. She couldn't stand the thought of going months without his touch ever again.
Yato felt rather than heard Hiyori arrive at Kofuku's in the afternoon. He flew down the stairs, holding a still dozing Amane for his sanity's sake, and threw the door open for her before she could even knock.
"Hiyori."
"H-Hi," she said, a little startled by his sudden appearance. "I'm home."
"W-Welcome back," he said thickly, his eyes drawn to the exposed skin of her collarbone, his hands shaking slightly as he clutched the baby for support.
"How was she?" She asked, noting the light breathing that meant Amane was asleep.
"Fine. Good. And...?"
His mouth forgot how to work as the skin on her neck and face flushed deep crimson and she glanced away from him.
"Mm, I'm fully recovered," she whispered.
Yato stared at her, unable to process what she'd said.
"Y-yeah?"
She nodded, the blush spreading over her nose.
That was all he needed.
"YUKINE!" he bellowed. His Regalia came running, alarmed by the urgency in his tone.
"What- oh, Hiyori, you're-"
Yato didn't give him the opportunity to finish his sentence as he thrust the mildly startled baby into the boy's arms and grabbed Hiyori's hand to pull her inside.
"Go. Take her to Hiyori's place or to the park or something," he said, shoving them bodily out the door. "Don't come back for at least two hours."
"Yato, what-?!"
"Seriously, get out," Yato insisted, and he knew Yukine got the message because he grew red as a tomato.
"F-fine. Just remember Kofuku's coming back at 8-"
He threw the door closed before Yukine could finish and rounded on Hiyori so quickly he tripped on his own feet.
She'd barely managed to prevent him from falling when his hands went up to her face and he kissed her, hard, gasping with need as he pushed her towards the wall.
"Hiyori," he groaned against her mouth, his heart aching as she overcame her surprise and sighed with relief, returning the heat of his kiss.
"H-Here?" she managed with a gasp as his lips found her jaw and her back pressed into the wall.
"If... If that's okay," he said, forcing himself to pause.
She swallowed hard, unable to look him in the eye.
"Y-yes, please," she breathed, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. "In... In my body this time."
He froze, panicking for a second. "I don't have any-"
She blinked up at him and burst into nervous laughter. "You dummy, it's the opposite for us, remember? It's unsafe in my spiritual form."
"Oh. Right," he said sheepishly.
"I'm on the pill anyway," she admitted under her breath. "Mother insisted."
"Well, that's a relief." He kissed her again, slowly this time, unbuttoning her blouse with trembling fingers. "'Cause it's getting kinda ridiculous, saying you're still a virgin after Amane. About time I cleared that up for you."
She gave a small snort of amused laughter and he grinned as he leaned in to kiss her throat, the last button of her blouse coming loose with a satisfying pop.
"I love you," he murmured, nipping her skin with his teeth. The sound she made set his nerves alight, his breath shuddering with longing.
"Yato..."
Her hands sunk into his hair as he ran his tongue between her breasts, so swollen with milk they were barely contained by her bra. He only had to nudge the fabric down with his nose before they came free, full and heavy, at least an entire cup size bigger than he remembered. Her nipples were so much more pronounced than they used to be too, and they were darkened from Amane's constant feeding.
Hiyori had loved when he kissed and fondled her chest in the past, and Yato would be lying if he said he didn't desperately want to, but breastfeeding was such an ordeal for her, and she was always so sore, he couldn't help but hesitate.
He settled for a tiny kiss on one of the milk-wet tips, judging her reaction carefully.
"Is it okay?" he asked when she didn't pull away from him. "It doesn't hurt?"
"N-no, I think it's okay," she flushed, covering her mouth with her hand. "N-Nursing is harder, more pressure," she explained in a soft voice. "I don't think you could hurt me unless you were trying to draw milk, so as long as you don't s-suck so hard..."
"Okay. But you tell me the moment it hurts," he insisted. He waited for her tiny, embarrassed nod before he brought his lips back to her breast, dragging soft kisses around the areola. She responded exactly the way he remembered, and he relished the arch of her back as she gasped and tried to get closer to him, her head turned slightly to give him better access to her shoulders and neck.
He took one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing softly and rubbing his palm into the swell of her, and hummed with satisfaction as she bit the back of her hand, eyes glazed with pleasure as she tried to stifle a moan.
"Nuh uh," he grinned evilly, tugging her hand away from her lips. "The only thing you're drowning your voice out with is me."
He took her lips, silencing her cries with his tongue, then pointedly nipped softly at the edge of her mouth to make sure she wouldn't be able to hide the desperate sounds he was drawing out of her. He shivered with excitement as her voice trembled in his ear, and he listened with rapt attention for the little whine that meant she needed more than his hands.
He heard it soon enough, and he paused to caress her cheeks and jaw with his thumbs as he tipped her head back for a heavy, breathless kiss.
"Good girl," he teased, knowing it would annoy her.
"You're... the worst," she managed with great difficulty, her brow furrowed in distaste.
"Hmm, guess you don't want more then," he said with an almost careless shrug.
"Yatooo..."
"I'm kidding, jeez," he pouted, having way too much fun at her expense. He kissed her nose, knowing he shouldn't push her too far. "Sorry, couldn't help myself." He didn't wait for her reply before he turned her head and nibbled on the lobe of her ear, quickly reducing her back into a gasping, writhing mess. He trailed his lips down, listening to the wild beat of her heart as her breath caught at his continued attentions to the tender flesh beneath his tongue.
Her chest was heaving, and Yato could feel her growing tenser, her thighs parting as he pressed into her. Even through her skirt, the bulge in his pants found the warmest spot between her legs, and he couldn't say if the wetness he felt there was his or hers. Probably a bit of both.
"Oh, Yato..." Hiyori moaned as he bit the side of her neck; not hard, of course, but enough for her body to rock against him perfectly, rubbing a gentle arc up and down his erection. He almost forgot what he was doing as a low hiss escaped him and he clutched at her waist desperately until she steadied under his touch. He waited a second to cool his head and then worked his way back down to her breast and took a nipple in his mouth.
Hiyori made a soft whine of pleasure, her voice trembling as his tongue flicked gently back and forth. It was one of his favorite things about sleeping with her, the honesty with which she reacted when her words just wouldn't cooperate. She initiated the first time, and did a lot to even the playing field, but the more confident Yato got, the more flustered she seemed to become, and he didn't mind at all if it meant he could coax her pleasure out through her rigid sense of propriety. There was plenty of time later for his needs.
He focused instead on the thrill of having her in his mouth, of the perfect hardness of her nipple as he wrapped his lips around her and her hands tugged at his hair with pleasurable force. He tried not to suck, but it was hard when she made such cute, breathless noises, and he eventually grew bold enough to gather her swollen areola into a desperate, heavy kiss.
"Yato, Yato," she begged, unable to stay still as he drew her out.
A sudden, though tiny, trickle of milk filled his mouth, and he coughed at the sweet taste of it as he abruptly let her go, a thread of saliva breaking off and cooling on his darkened lips as he struggled to catch his breath.
He hadn't meant to do that, but he was so shaken by the painfully sharp edge of his desire that he had to shut his eyes and breathe. He'd almost forgotten how affected he'd been by her pregnancy, some dumb animalistic instinct of his taking literal pleasure from the thought of his child growing in Hiyori's belly. He hadn't realized how strong that possesive instinct had been until just now, and suddenly he understood how he managed to last so long without indulging his desire.
Holy shit. I almost came right there, he groaned, grasping for what was left of his rational thoughts. No wonder fantasies were enough all those months.
"Yato?" Hiyori's voice asked, full of concern.
"M'okay," he mumbled, kissing the pale skin under his lips. "Just... Needed a second."
He released his breath slowly, counting backwards from ten, until he felt more centered.
Slowly, he rubbed circles into her hips and returned his attention to the sensitive skin on the sides and nape of her neck. Reasoning that he probably needed to pick up the pace before he had an accident, he gently worked his fingers under her skirt.
He was startled to find that her panties were completely soaked through, despite the fact that he'd really only just gotten started. The last time he'd had her, it had taken a good while to work her up, but even then he wasn't sure he remembered her being this responsive. He pushed the elastic aside, dipping his finger into the wetness just on the inside of her slick opening, and dragged it up to her clit with a slow, deliberate stroke.
Hiyori cried so loudly her voice broke, her whole body pressed desperately against him, seeking friction from his touch.
"Haahh, Yato, wait, I can't-" she moaned pitifully as he circled her clit, his fingers sliding effortlessly over the wet bundle of nerves. He captured her cries with his lips, savoring them as they reverberated against the inside of his mouth, holding her steady against the wall so she wouldn't move too much.
She was truly coming undone in his hands, and she was so slick from his attentions that he slipped into her more than once without meaning to. Her legs didn't seem to be able to support her as she all but melted into him. "No, stop, I want- please, stop, Yato!" she gasped, clinging to his shoulders. He stopped immediately, alarmed.
"Did I hurt you?!" He asked, pulling his hand away. She shook her head, her nose tucked into the crook of his neck.
"No," she whispered. "I just... I want more than this. I need all of you."
The words lit a fire in him, an electric shock that nearly had him feverish with desire. He shivered, wrapping his arms around her torso.
"If you're sure," he said, his voice low and gutteral as he kissed her hair, the side of her jaw, and then her mouth.
She hung on tight as he impatiently tugged her underwear down. They had barely pooled on the floor when he managed to free himself of his waistband.
"Hiyori," he breathed, cupping her cheek as he pulled her in for another kiss. "Hiyori, Hiyori..." He repeated, licking softly at her lip, then nudging her mouth open to caress her tongue.
She moaned into the kiss, and then his arms were hooked under her thighs as he hitched her further up the wall and the tip of his exposed length rubbed against her clit and then the wetness of her opening.
Slowly, he pushed into her, anchoring her against the wall, his breath coming in harsh bursts as he focused only on the unbelievable sensation of her wrapped snugly around him.
Her eyes closed and she pulled him tightly against her, visibly trembling in his arms as her thighs tightened against his hips.
"I love you so much, Yato," she whispered into his ear, and there was so much raw emotion in her voice that he couldn't help but turn his head to kiss her temple, a sweet, perfectly innocent gesture that was totally unsuited to the mood.
"I know I'm buried in to the hilt here," he said with a stupid simpering smile on his face, "but you are so fucking adorable that I think I'm gonna cry."
Hiyori made a high pitched noise of embarrassment.
"Don't say stuff like that!" She groaned, pulling back a little to frown at him. "It's so crude!"
He shuddered at her movement, and felt the tremor pass through her as well when he twitched within her.
"No talking right now," he said hoarsely. "If I lose focus, I'm fucked. Pun not intended."
"Yato," she huffed.
If she meant to say anything else, he didn't hear it. He pressed his lips to the pulse point of her throat and savored the cry that came when he deliberately moved, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in. He'd planned to take it slow and drag out her pleasure, but it quickly became obvious that neither of them were going to last very long. Hiyori met his thrusts with her hips, her ankles crossing tightly behind him as she cried herself hoarse, her usual reservation gone as he gave in to the chaos of his divine nature and began fucking her against the wall with considerable recklessness.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't think beyond the loud thud of each thrust echoing through her and into the wall behind her, and the mesmerizing sight of her breasts bouncing off his chest, her pretty pink nipples glistening with moisture in the afternoon sunlight. His entire existence was here, wrapped in Hiyori's scent, her arms, her legs, her broken moans and the tight heat of her core as she took him in without resistance, his entire length effortlessly sliding in and out, in and out with a soft, wet sound that had him enraptured. The whole world was contained in that wonderful, amazing sound, and he never wanted it to end.
He'd never seen her react quite so openly before, her fingernails scraping into his shoulder blades as his name spilled in an endless chant from her reddened, kiss-darkened lips. Now that was worship if Yato had ever heard it, and he buried his face in her shoulder to make sure he never forgot how it sounded when he closed his eyes.
It didn't last very long though. With a loud, drawn out gasp, Hiyori suddenly tightened around him, her whole body convulsing in on itself as she bent forward and into his shoulder, and actually bit him. Not a love bite like the ones he'd lavished on her, but a real, desperate bite that left marks as her breath scalded his skin with her ecstasy. The heat of it tipped him over the edge and into a long, shuddering moment of pure release as he came, his fingers clawing desperately into the soft flesh of her thighs as he felt the rush of euphoria flow through him. Hiyori stilled in his arms, so spent she could only moan weakly at the sensation as he spilled himself into her belly with a pained sort of cry, tremors raking up and down his spine.
They stayed there, leaning against the wall for support as their hearts beat together in a raucous, ecstatic duet. This was the part he loved most, though Hiyori would never believe him if he told her so. Not the heat and the desire, though he loved that too, but the quiet moment of existing in the same, intimate bubble of the world they'd created for themselves. The minutes ticked by and looped into themselves, time forever lost but engraved for eternity with these moments Yato would treasure for the rest of his life. Heaven was not in the sky above, but in the racing of Hiyori's heart as it slowly matched to his, in the slightly salty tang of her sweat and the pretty rivulets of her hair coiling against her throat, and in the pure, cathartic emotion that bound him to her far more powerfully than his body ever could.
It didn't matter that it hadn't been as romantic or tender as their first time, all that mattered was that he loved her, and that she somehow loved him back, and that, more than anything, soothed his aramitama and lulled it back into a manageable purr deep within his chest.
"Hiyori," Yato murmured, nudging the side of her cheek with his nose.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
"I just like calling your name," he smiled, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up into an embrace and curl up around her like a cat. He still had plenty of frustration to work off, but he was already looking forward to the soft murmurs and gentle kisses he would insist on in the afterglow. "Hiyori. Hiyori. Hiyori," he sighed, content. "All mine."
She made a sound almost but not quite like a snort.
"Idiot," she said, but it was playful and warm, not a real rebuke.
"Mm, but I think I'm your idiot."
She kissed his eyelids, a tender gesture filled with devotion that he could feel like physical whispers of prayer on his skin. "Yes, you are, Yato. Stupid and perverted as you might be, you're never getting rid of me again," she giggled.
"Hey, that's my line!" he complained as he gently let her down. She protested slightly but seemed reassured when he pulled her into a proper embrace, and he sighed with pure joy as she leaned her head in the crook of his shoulder.
"And now that you can finally stop saying I'm still a virgin, it's mine too," she teased, reflecting his own mischief back at him in the bright glimmer of her perfect brown eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her, a little surprised by how openly flirtatious she was being. He didn't say anything though, the last thing he wanted was for her to retreat behind her reserved shield of politeness again.
"It doesn't work that way," he scoffed, brushing her hair off her shoulder so he could plant several kisses there.
"It does now."
He chuckled slightly, too happy to be annoyed. "Mm, whatever you say, Hiyori," he sighed contentedly. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed in bliss at her presence in his life, at the providence that had somehow led him to her. "But you're still mine, and I have no intention of ever getting rid of you."
"Good," she said with a smile as he brushed noses with her. It was almost certainly just Yato's imagination, but in his eyes she seemed to glow with angelic contentment. "Because we have two children together."
Yato winced, remembering the rough way he'd pushed Yukine out of the house. "I really shouldn't have kicked them out like that... I wasn't thinking straight."
"The understatement of the century," Hiyori laughed. "I'm sure they're okay though," she reassured him honestly. "Yukine-kun is too smart to stay exposed with Amane in his care. You would have felt something if they were in danger anyway."
"Would I have, though?" he muttered, only half joking. "I think I kind of lost it there for a bit."
Hiyori didn't reply, her fingers tracing lazy circles onto his back, her cheek pressed sleepily to his shirt.
"Oi, Earth to Hiyori," he chuckled when she stopped trying to stay upright and let him hold her up. "You do know we're not done here yet, right? I'm not wasting a single second."
"There's more?!" she yelped, slightly alarmed as she pulled away to look at him. "You're not tired after all that?!"
"I said two hours and I meant two hours," he said stubbornly. "I know you have stamina to spare, and I'm not letting a human outpace me, not even if it's you," he sniffed indignantly, though the effect was ruined by the indulgent smile tugging at his lips. He moved to kiss her and paused to fill his lungs with the lush scent of her hair, unable to resist a small tease. "You know, it's really sexy how much you smell like me right now."
For some reason Hiyori blushed particularly hard and wouldn't meet his eyes.
She would rather die than tell him that her abnormally sharp ayakashi nose could always pick out his scent and sense his arousal, or that it was a scent that coated her tongue and made her dizzy with want.
Especially when she could taste herself in it.
It was getting a little late, though that didn't mean too much in mid-September, thankfully. Sunset was still a few hours off, so Yukine felt safe enough to shelter outdoors. He'd tried to go to Hiyori's place immediately, but unfortunately no one was home, and Yukine didn't have his key on him, so he'd resigned himself to finding somewhere relatively deserted. He now sat in a corner of the park by Hiyori's house, tucked out of sight under a few unruly trees and a particularly overgrown hedge, his hoodie spread out on the grass under him as his little sister sat securely in his lap, wide awake but in unusually good spirits.
"What're you so content about, huh?" he asked her in a soft tone as she wiggled happily in his arms, making high-pitched burbles he'd learned meant she was delighted with the world around her. He couldn't be sure without Yato around to interpret, but he had a suspicion it was the fresh air and the bright colors of the foliage and the wildflowers around them that was so stimulating her; since they had to be extra careful never to bring too much attention to Amane in public, her exposure to the outside world was very limited, and whenever Hiyori or Yukine took her out, they often went to a lot of trouble to tuck her ink-dark hair under a hat or a hood and kept her in her stroller or a kangaroo pouch where she could be shielded from view at the first sign of danger. Yato wasn't allowed to take her out at all, a rule Yukine knew he resented but went along with anyway. Amane just looked way too much like his master for anyone to think she was anything but his biological daughter.
"That fucking idiot," Yukine grumbled to himself, angry that he'd been so unceremoniously kicked out of his own home, and with only the clothes on his back to protect Amane with, too! He hadn't even had time to grab a blanket or his wallet, and he hoped Yato was enjoying his little escapade with Hiyori, because Yukine was gonna make sure his god would regret it later.
The thought of what Yato and Hiyori were probably up to made his face burn with second-hand shame. They'd never made too much of a secret about this kind of thing, though it was probably because Yukine had been an unwilling witness to the very first occasion, stuck downstairs with Hiyori's body while he prepared dinner. He would have fled, except the food would've burned, and he'd been very worried about Hiyori, who had ditched school and appeared at Kofuku's in tears for some unknown reason. In the end he'd managed to pretend the unfortunately loud noises upstairs didn't exist long enough to avoid stinging Yato until later, and afterwards he'd had to remain open-minded about it since Hiyori got pregnant with Amane. Yukine doubted he'd ever uproot the trauma of it, but that's just how it went when both his parental figures were practically teenagers themselves.
"I am a Blessed Regalia," he told himself firmly, forcing his thoughts away from sin. "I am Sekki, infamous guidepost of Amagiri-no-Mikoto himself, the shinki that cut heaven in half for his master's sake. I am Amane's protector, and I won't do anything to blight her or her stupid, piece-of-shit dad. Not even if he deserves it," he added through his teeth.
Amane's chubby hands smacked his arm, and he snapped out of his thoughts immediately to check on her. But she was perfectly fine, just overjoyed at a passing butterfly fluttering in front of her and bouncing with delight.
He gave a soft chuckle, warmed by her cute, jerky little movements, and bent down to nuzzle her delicious-smelling hair.
"Damn it, it's illegal to be this adorable," he whined playfully. "It ain't faiiiir."
She laughed at his affections, and Yukine actually found himself thinking it wasn't such a bad thing after all, sitting out here in exile with her. At the very least, she was the perfect distraction from the impure thoughts he was fighting to tamp down with his entire being.
"You're the one good thing I got out of this whole arrangement," he said in a childish voice as he lifted the baby up and held her over his head, making faces for her entertainment. "But you're totally worth it, sis."
She shrieked with glee, kicking excitedly and snuggling into his cheek as he brought her down into a gentle hug.
"Alright, alright," he laughed. "I get it, people are gonna think I'm torturing you." He kissed her face and nodded to himself.
"I'm Yukine," he said aloud. "Yatogami's hafuri vessel and older brother to his most precious treasure. That's you, you know," he told her with a smile. "Even though he's not acting like it right now; you and me, little princess, and Hiyori too, we're beloved to a god, and even though he's an idiot, and a pervert, and he's insufferable sometimes, we're really blessed to have him."
Amane huffed with finality, as if she were agreeing, and held on tight to the collar of his shirt. He sighed as he fell back on the grass, patting her back gently.
"I guess it is a nice day," he said, gazing up at the sky through the branches of the trees above. "It should be safe to hang out here a little longer, and there's worse things than being stuck out here with you. Guess I don't have to beat him up too badly... But you NEVER heard me say any of that, got it, sis?" he added abruptly. "Last thing I need is for Yato to think he's off the hook to do whatever the fuck he wants."
Notes:
honestly just end me
