How long had he waited for this..?

A Sun summoner..

A Saint. A miracle. A light. An end to his shadow.

Sure, maybe he shouldn't have chuckled as their blood spilled from their palm onto his.. But, saints, the man in front of him, the way his scowl twitched as he looked at Aleksander.

That had been... two weeks now.. Saints, it felt like so much longer. It felt like it had been years since he had seen them.

He's been already damned for saints know how long...

...And he'd be even more damned if he didn't let this man, this force of nature, this beautiful man, get close, if he didn't let his walls crumble and allow them into his bedroom, if he didn't let himself explore the other man's body, if he didn’t draw out his sounds, deep in his throat, if he didn't make him arch his back into Aleksander.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things, saints know he shouldn’t.

He was the Black Heretic, the Darkling after all, the monster of the story and the cause for the Shadow Fold, for the volcra. He had no right to want- need them. He didn’t deserve them, didn’t deserve to be loved, by a saint no less.

But he so badly wanted them. He desired them, lusted after them, and he loathed it as much as he craved it. He felt so very close to losing control every time he saw them..

..And, he can't wait any longer now.

In the privacy of his own bathroom... a cold shower wasn't helping him.

He needs to see that sunlight-kissed face again, that scowl that turned to a smile, those dark eyes. He needed the Sun summoner in his room, in his bed, beneath his mouth.

He needed, needed, needed...

The way the Sun Summoner moved. The way he looked, how he spoke. His voice, a whisper through the world itself, it had brought the Darkling back to life again, had given him a new life.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

The morning he spent with the Sun summoner in his bed, their head against his shoulder. The sheets, dark and twisted with their bodies. He couldn't help but admire them.

He was lucky, so lucky, to get to see them so close.