🩸☾ BloodMoon (KokuZan) Oneshots ☽🩸

I'll rouse for you; Cuddle me, sleepyhead.

Warnings.

Fluff???
Mini make-out towards the end.
Out of character because it's fun
Idk what else

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"Muzan...? Muzaannnn?"

Kokushibo crept up onto the large canopy bed that occupied the centre of the shared chamber he and Muzan called theirs. He tentatively placed a hand on Muzan's upper shoulder as he gazed down at his seemingly sleeping husband.

Muzan lay on his side, both hands loosely clutching a soft pillow, his legs tangled beneath the comforter. He looked innocent as if the centuries of torment, suffering, the bloodshed he put people through, were nothing more than a distant nightmare. But Kokushibo had never cared about those things. He could never fear Muzan, not even with the pain he brought. No; Kokushibo remained, always, like a loyal dog at his heel.

"Are you... awake, Muzan?" Kokushibo traced his hand along the line of Muzan's clavicle, earning a soft sound from the man he loved. Tenderly, he smiled, his eyes shimmering with tender affection and quiet love. His hand moved up the column of Muzan's throat, fingers brushing his jugular, before gently cupping Muzan's jaw to turn his head toward him.

"No..." Muzan responded in a quiet, raspy voice. His eyes opened slightly as he looked up at Kokushibo. He smiled and rolled over to make it easier for Kokushibo to reach him. Their eyes met. Kokushibo leaned down onto his other elbow, that hand now tangling in Muzan's tousled hair. Their smiles matched.

"...Can you be?" Kokushibo's voice was soft as his hand combed through Muzan's hair. It was not an attempt to brush it out but to scratch lightly at Muzan's scalp, coaxing him gently into wakefulness. Muzan did not seem to mind, that's if he noticed at all. His hand rose to tuck a stray lock of Kokushibo's hair behind his ear, then drifted down to the nape of Kokushibo's neck, resting there with quiet affection.

"Must I?"

"Yes... you must. For it is an emergency." Kokushibo's voice, though still soft, left no room for doubt. Judging by his slow, almost languid movements, however, there was no cause for panic. Still, if Kokushibo considered it important enough to disturb Muzan's rest, it was likely worth noting.

"What's the emergency? Are we out of Marechi?" Muzan asked, rubbing the back of Kokushibo's neck, right where he knew the other liked it.

"Not that," Kokushibo said with a small shake of his head.

"Is the castle under siege?" Muzan raised a brow, pausing his movements. His voice held a note of humour and boldness, knowing full well that the demon slayers would never be able to locate their hidden fortress.

"Not that either," Kokushibo replied, shaking his head once more before shifting to lie fully on top of his body. His legs slid between Muzan's, forcing the other onto his back.

"Then what could it possibly be?" Muzan grunted at the sudden weight. He cupped the back of Kokushibo's head, thumbing gently through his hair. Their legs entwined as Muzan pulled him further into the bed's warmth—a place he knew Kokushibo would never want to leave. Muzan also knew his husband was weak to the temptation of rest, no matter how much he tried to resist it.

"Does there... need to be a reason? Perhaps the call... of sleep brought me here, especially... with the thought of... sharing it with you." Kokushibo was not usually romantic—least of all when Muzan was half-asleep. But the drowsiness made it easier. If Muzan had been more awake, Kokushibo would have been dragged into bed without question. Now, though, Muzan was too heavy with sleep to even lift his head. And that was fine. Muzan had been working hard lately. He deserved the rest.