The Sweetest Morning

Author's Note: This story was written for BlaMasu Week 2019. The prompt used was "morning".

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Black's eyes slowly cracked open. Was it morning already? He and Zamasu had been up quite late into the night enjoying each other's company and, of course, having sex. They must have fallen asleep at some point, though he couldn't remember it at all.

He rubbed at his eyes and face a bit, trying to decide if he really wanted to wake up or if he wanted to try to sleep for a while longer. Time wasn't important anymore; it wasn't as if they had some kind of schedule they needed to follow. They were on their own time with their own agenda. The end goal was already in sight. All they had to do now was savor the final road to their inevitable victory.

"Hey, Za-" Black's mouth snapped shut as he turned his head to find that his partner was still very much asleep. He was close, too, his head sharing a pillow with Black's head. Something about having him so close like that made Black's heart beat a little harder.

Zamasu was incredibly beautiful and just seeing him close with his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted was irresistible. He was sleeping so peacefully. The sheets were pulled up just above his waist, his body still bare from the night before. His hair was a mess, too. It was always a mess in the morning from sleeping, but it was even more of a mess than usual this time. Zamasu always made a fuss of cleaning himself up in the morning. He wanted to look flawless, he would say, but. . . didn't he know that he was flawless no matter what? He was perfectly beautiful, even with his hair in a mess. He was beautiful when he was dressed or when he was nude. He was beautiful when he was happy or when he was angry. He was beautiful when he was cutting down mortals, when he was asleep, when he was making tea. . .

Everything Zamasu did was beautiful and perfect. Didn't he know that?

Black reached out hesitantly to lightly caress Zamasu's cheek with the backs of his fingers. So soft and delicate. He could feel his breath lightly ghosting over his skin, too. He really was still completely fast asleep.

Usually Zamasu was the first to wake. He would wake up and make some breakfast. Even though Zamasu himself didn't need food to live anymore, he knew that Black had to eat something and so he would prepare meals every day. He never asked Black to cook, even though the man was just as capable as he was, and he never complained about it. In fact, sometimes he would hum a bit as he did it. Did he like cooking? Black didn't really feel any particular way about the activity, so why would himself from the future like it?

He retracted his hand and slowly and carefully rolled onto his side so he was facing his counterpart. Why was he being so gentle and quiet? Wouldn't it be best to wake him up so they could eat and get started with their day?

It would, but. . . he didn't have the heart to rouse him from his rest just yet. Zamasu must have been very tired to sleep so late. He'd probably gone a little too wild on him last night. "I should be more careful, maybe. . ." He whispered the words quietly to himself. His body craved violence and intensity and while it wouldn't physically harm Zamasu, he surely exhausted the poor Kai. A little restraint from Black every now and then would be helpful.

He wanted to touch him again. Just seeing his peaceful face made him want to pull him into his chest and hold tightly onto him. Why did this person make him feel so strongly? He'd caught himself being more emotional than he ever thought he could be when it came to another person. Was it because Zamasu was himself? He did love himself and no one else, but . . . this feeling didn't feel like any kind of self-love. It was . . . something else. It was something else that he was afraid to admit even in his thoughts, let alone ever admitting out loud. Zamasu may have felt the same way, as he had sounded very close to uttering the words on several occasions.