Bruises

Morning light filtered through the cracks in the wooden blinds, casting soft beams across the room. Outside, the village was waking up—the distant sounds of birds, the faint rustle of early risers, and the gentle hum of life starting anew.

But inside the room, things were far from quiet.

Murata stirred beneath the warmth of the futon, the dawn light softly touching his skin. He’d been trying—trying to get up early, to help with chores, to start the day off right. But the pull was too strong.

Giyuu Tomioka, calm and still half-asleep, lay pressed against Murata’s back, an arm draped lazily over his torso. Murata’s breath hitched slightly, trying to wiggle free, though it was a futile effort.

“No need to get up yet,” Giyuu murmured, his voice husky with sleep. “Stay here.”

“I-I… I have things to do,” Murata managed, his voice shaking slightly under Giyuu’s touch. But as Giyuu’s other hand trailed down his side, fingers brushing over his ribs, Murata felt the fight leave him.

“No,” Giyuu said softly, pressing his lips to Murata’s neck. His breath was hot, his kisses lingering, teeth gently nipping at the soft flesh below the jaw.

Murata’s protests turned into a quiet moan, his resistance crumbling as Giyuu’s mouth left a gentle bruise against his skin.

“G-Giyuu…” Murata whimpered, his fingers clenching at the futon beneath him.

“Stay,” Giyuu whispered again, his lips moving down to suck lightly at Murata’s throat, leaving faint marks in their wake.

Murata’s breath hitched, his body reacting to the sensation, his voice falling quiet as Giyuu’s touch became more insistent. There was no escape—no need for words.

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