Yozak stands in the doorway, chest heaving like he’s just run a mile to get here. Absurd. It was actually two.
“I’m back.” Nonchalant, as though Yozak should have been expecting it.
The distance between them is covered in two strides of Yozak’s long legs and a tight embrace that pulls Murata out of his chair and dispels all the doubts that have been clouding his mind. You’re mine, it tells him wordlessly, you’re really mine, and Murata answers back with hot, wet kisses, yes, God yes, only yours, as memories of a demon king finally fade away for good.