Discover Top Posts Tagged with #screeeee

Nightmares

The days had been long and lazy, with Katsuka setting no particular agenda other than simply being with Kai — no appointments, no missions, no courtly distractions. Just warm food, hot springs, and many kisses beneath the mountain sun. Kai didn’t complain. If anything, he seemed to sink into the quiet rhythm with relief, a man finally off-duty, content to be still beside the one he wanted.

And it didn’t take long for him to learn something essential.

Katsuka was not a morning person.

The first morning, he found him bundled like a cocoon in the futon, hair a wild mess across the pillow. Mitsuki, ever the dutiful brother, had followed his usual routine and automatically moved him towards the shower.

And Kai, never one to ignore a good opportunity, had followed Katsuka to the shower.

He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t have to.

The soft hiss of steam had barely filled the air before strong arms wrapped around Katsuka from behind. He let out a half-surprised noise — not quite a yelp, but enough to make Kai chuckle deeply against his neck.

“Good morning,” Kai murmured, pressing a kiss just behind his ear, where he knew it would make him shiver.

Katsuka groaned. “I was still asleep...”

“You’re in the shower.”

“I didn’t want to be in the shower."

Mitsuki had retreated quickly — something about you’re on your own now, Kit Kat as his prescence faded back into some crevace of his mind.

“Too bad,” Kai grinned, nipping lightly at his shoulder. “I get you to myself for a week. I'm not wasting this moment.”

Katsuka turned to glare at him, but it quickly melted into something else entirely the moment he caught the look in Kai’s eyes — all hunger and heat and something fond underneath.

The warm spray misted around them, turning the narrow shower into a haze of heat and skin. Kai’s hands were already trailing lower, fingers slick with soap as he lazily traced along Katsuka’s sides, thumbs pressing into his hips like he was memorizing every curve.

“You’re insufferable,” Katsuka muttered, though his voice had lost its bite.

Kai smirked, nosing at his damp collarbone. “You like me like this.”

It wasn’t a question.

Katsuka didn’t answer with words. Instead, he tilted his head, leaned into the touch, and let himself be kissed.

The kiss started slow — a coaxing, lingering thing. But it built quickly, the way it always did between them, heat curling through his chest and settling low in his belly. Kai pressed him back against the wall, water cascading over both of them as their bodies met in slick, eager rhythm.

Fingers tangled in wet hair. Thighs brushed. Teeth grazed lower lips between gasps and laughter.

“I thought this was supposed to wake me up,” Katsuka breathed, voice low and teasing as Kai’s hands gripped tighter around his waist, guiding him.

“Oh, it will,” Kai growled, kissing him again, this time rougher — less question, more need. “You’ll be wide awake by the time I’m done.”

The next morning Mitsuki had just let him sleep in. No forceful waking by being forced under the shower spray, just blissful silence.

Katsuka buried deeper into the warmth of the covers, face smushed against the pillow, platinum hair tangled in a glorious mess around him. He had no intention of waking up. Not when the bed was so warm. Not when Kai was wrapped around him like a weighted blanket with body heat.

He felt Kai stir behind him, the slow rustle of sheets and a familiar hard press nuzzling against his lower back.

Katsuka groaned in sleepy protest. “No...”

Kai chuckled, low and rough from sleep. “Too late, Kitty.”

A kiss brushed against the nape of his neck, gentle, almost reverent. Kai’s fingers slid through his hair, pushing it aside to better mouth at the soft skin there. Katsuka squirmed under the attention but didn’t pull away — not really.

“It’s called morning glory for a reason,” Kai teased, voice still drowsy but already laced with heat.

“No, I swear if you—"

He didn’t get to finish the threat. Kai’s arm wrapped firm around his waist, keeping him flush to his chest. And then that familiar, delicious pressure rocked into him, stealing the air from his lungs.

His sleepy brain barely had time to catch up before pleasure sent a jolt down his spine.

“Alright, I’m awake,” Katsuka gasped, breathless laughter tumbling out as Kai grinned against his skin. “I’ll give you points for enthusiasm—”

“Enthusiasm?” Kai huffed, hips pressing slow and deep as he nipped lightly at his shoulder. “You wound me. This is art.”

Katsuka arched slightly with a gasp, letting him in deeper. “You’re absolutely shameless.”

“You make it easy,” he murmured, voice thick with want. “You’re warm. Soft. Glorious.” His hand slid down to grip his thigh, adjusting the angle just so. “And I need you.”

Katsuka’s breath caught.

Then Kai leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Be good for daddy.”

That did it. That phrase always had a terrible, shameful effect on him.

He whimpered — actually whimpered — and melted completely in his arms, pushing back into the next thrust like muscle memory. “You’re insufferable,” he breathed, one hand curling around the pillow while the other reached back to touch whatever part of Kai he could find — his thigh, his hip, anything solid to ground him.

Kai was slower this morning, less desperate, more indulgent. Each movement was a claiming, a reminder, a sweet drag of heat and closeness that blurred the lines between sleep and pleasure.

Their bodies moved in quiet rhythm, surrounded by the scent of rain-drenched pine outside and sweat-warmed skin inside. There were no rushes, no teases — just this, just them.

And when Kai came with a quiet moan into the hollow of his throat, Katsuka shivered in his arms, clinging to him tighter, unwilling to let go even for a second.

Afterward, he lay there tangled in his arms, breath slowing, heart still pounding lightly in his chest. He could feel Kai’s lips ghost over his spine again and again, like he wasn’t sure if he was real.

“You really have no self-control, huh,” Katsuka muttered sleepily.

Kai hummed in agreement, nuzzling the curve of his shoulder. “Only around you.”

Katsuka closed his eyes, letting the weight of him settle against his back. His body was relaxed, languid in a way he rarely let himself be. Sleep tugged at him again, warm and heavy.

He had surprised himself with how well he was actually sleeping this week.

Normally he’d get maybe three hours at best before he would be ripped awake once more. But here, with Kai’s arms wrapped around him and no looming responsibilities waiting just outside the door, he found himself drifting easily. When he did wake, it wasn’t with panic, but with a quiet inhale, the sound of Kai’s breathing steady in his ear.

And instead of getting up, instead of pacing or burying himself in some distraction, he would just shift closer. Press his face to Kai’s chest or curl into his back and listen. Just listen.

It unnerved him, how easy it had become.

It terrified him a little too — the quiet creeping thought that this could be dangerous, this contentment. That if he stayed too long, he’d want it forever.

He’d always been careful with Kai. Never too long. Never too close. Not because he didn’t want him — he did. But because he knew his own limits. He knew what could break him.

And on the fourth night, those fears finally caught up to him.

The snow fell heavier now, swirling in blinding gusts that stung his face and stole the breath from his lungs. Katsuka stumbled through the endless white, boots sinking deep into the slush with every agonizing step. The cold bit into him like knives, but he didn’t dare stop. Not when he could hear it — him — behind him.

A growl cracked through the storm, low and rumbling. It rolled across the snow like thunder, vibrating in his chest, coiling deep in his gut.

It wasn’t just sound. It was pressure — a force that swallowed the air around him and filled it with dread.

Run faster, Kit Kat!...

Mitsuki’s voice echoed in his skull, unusually panicked, frantic.

He’s almost here... you still have time to get away...

His lungs burned as he forced his body forward. His legs screamed in protest, already bruised and bloodied from the ice, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He knew that voice. He knew that growl. And it terrified him in a way nothing else could.

He dared a glance over his shoulder, just once, just for a second.

Through the curtain of snow, he saw them — two burning red eyes like coals, cutting through the storm like twin flames. The rest of the world was muted white, soft and blurred — but those eyes were sharp and endless, locked on him like a predator cornering prey.

Kai.

A flash of silver lunged through the snow.

Something struck him hard in the back, sending him sprawling face-first into the icy ground. He cried out as pain tore across his side, warmth blooming through the cold — blood. It soaked into the snow like ink.

He scrambled to get up, slipping in the crimson streak he left behind. His hands trembled as he tried to push himself backward, legs barely obeying.

Then the claws came down.

Heavy. Cold. Cruel.

They slammed into his thighs, pinning him in place with bone-shattering force. He screamed as talons raked down to the muscle, splitting him open, and his body thrashed, desperate, wild. Frost bloomed along his skin like veins of glass, curling upward from the wounds.

“No—no no no—!” he cried, voice breaking as the weight on his back grew heavier, closer.

And then he saw it.

The wolf’s form towered over him — massive and spectral, half-wreathed in mist and ice. Its fur bristled in thick white plumes, spattered with blood, and those red eyes... they weren’t just Kai’s anymore. They were something deeper. Older. Wrong.

The wolf snarled.

Teeth gleamed like icicles, jaws parting slowly in warning — a gory, trembling line of jagged hunger. Katsuka’s own blood dripped from its muzzle.

“No!” he cried, arms instinctively raising to shield his face. “Please! I didn’t know—I didn’t know!”

A pause.

A heartbeat of silence.

Then the wolf spoke, voice echoing through the snow with a distorted, hate-filled roar.

“You fucking KNEW!”

It lunged.

Teeth tore through his chest — no pain at first, just pressure, as bone splintered and cracked beneath the bite. He felt his ribs collapse. Felt the breath leave him. Something hot and vital was ripped away as the jaws closed around his heart — his heart — and then he was falling into blackness, weightless and hollow.

And then—

He woke up screaming.

He had woken Kai when his movements turned erratic in his sleep. His breath quickened, a low growl rising from his throat as his limbs twitched and twisted beneath the covers.

Kai reached out instinctively, concern etched into every line of his face. "Kitty?"

But before he could touch him, Katsuka sat bolt upright with a sharp, gasping cry.

"NO!"

His eyes were wide and glassy, staring through the dark like he wasn’t really there. He clutched at his chest as though trying to hold something in — or keep something out. His breath hitched, then died in his throat.

He made a strangled sound, half-cough, half-sob, and then his body curled inward. His hands clawed at his ribs, and he shook his head like he could drive out whatever haunted him. Tears slipped freely from the corners of his eyes.

Kai’s voice was soft beside him. Cautious. “Kitty… what’s wrong?”

Katsuka turned toward the sound, and in that moment, it all snapped.

Red eyes.

Twin flames in the snow.

The dream hadn’t ended. He’d brought it back with him.

“NO!” he screamed, flinging his arms up over his face. He threw himself back so violently he tumbled from the bed, hitting the ground with a sickening crack as the back of his skull connected with the floor.

“Katsuka!” Kai shouted, scrambling to follow him. “Oh my gods—are you okay?!”

“STOP.”

Kai froze mid-crawl.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

The words were low. Broken. Barely above a whisper, but they struck Kai like a whip.

He pulled back immediately, hands raised in surrender.

Katsuka’s breathing hitched again. He let out a sharp fox-like screech, the sound raw and feral. One hand clutched at his heart as a sharper pain bloomed in his chest — like something was tearing him apart from the inside.

“I… I can’t… breathe!” he choked, eyes squeezing shut. “Suki…!”

He didn’t need to say more.

From the shadows behind him, Mitsuki stirred. A familiar weight pressed into him like an anchor, cold but grounding. The panic still surged, but it had a shape now — something to push against.

It’s okay, Kit Kat… It was just a dream… Breathe… preferably before you have a heart attack…

Katsuka gasped in small, shallow breaths. His chest heaved, but the weight wouldn’t leave. Every beat of his heart felt like it had to be forced.

Let your wolf take care of you… Put your claws away… He’s not trying to hurt you…

He looked down.

His claws had dug deep into his own chest, skin torn and bleeding where he’d gripped too hard. Crimson ran in thin rivulets, catching the pale light from the window.

He hadn’t even noticed.

It’s okay, Kit Kat… You’re safe here…

His gaze lifted again. Kai stood frozen a few feet away, tail flicking once — distressed, uncertain. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t threatening. He looked like someone watching a wounded animal flinch at its own reflection.

“I’m… sorry…” Katsuka whispered, his voice barely audible through the tremble. His hands rose slowly to cover his face, shame crashing down like an avalanche. “I’m sorry…”

Kai moved.

No hesitation this time.

He dropped to the floor beside him and pulled him into a tight, all-consuming embrace.

Katsuka didn’t resist. He couldn’t. His body gave out the moment Kai’s warmth hit him, folding into him like a man drowning at sea. The press of Kai’s chest, the scent of his skin, the firmness of his arms — it all grounded him. Anchored him.

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed again, voice muffled in Kai’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh.” Kai pressed a kiss to his temple, fingers gentle as they checked for the bump on the back of his head. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. I promise.”

Katsuka clung harder, as if afraid Kai might vanish if he loosened his grip.

He hated this. Hated showing this side of himself. This was supposed to be their quiet week away — no politics, no nightmares, no past. Just them.

Instead, here he was: shivering, sobbing, bleeding, and ruining everything.

“I just wanted to give you something good…” he whispered into Kai’s chest, voice hollow. “Not this. Not this.”

Kai didn’t answer right away. He simply held him tighter, one hand gently stroking through his platinum hair.

“You are something good, Kitty,” he said eventually. “Even when you break.”

#RP Katsuka #kaisuka #chesham st breakdown #writing #screeeee