Mor/Ake Fluff(?)

It was the aftermath of yet another day of rough training.

Morgan lay on his back, panting hard and aching all over. His shredded armor was slowly repairing itself, covering the torn sections of the clothes beneath the enchanted plate. He bled from a myriad of minor wounds and felt pain from the various bruises and bone fractures that resulted from his rugged training with Kaito and his team, but they were already healing thanks to his semi-magic physiology.

“You’re getting faster, pretty boy.” A voice laughed and a shadow fell over his face. “Keep it up and I teach you another technique tomorrow.”

“I’m… so happy…” Morgan wheezed between pants, managing a pained smile. “Hurray…”

“Hm.” Akemi smirked, turning around. “If you have enough strength to cheer as pathetically as that, then you’ll have enough to take my weight, ne?”

“What’re you—“ Morgan’s eyes widened as Akemi fell back. “Wai—ack!”

“Mmm~” the orangette hummed as she shifted her ass on the knight’s stomach, looking for a more comfortable place to sit. “You make a good pillow, you know?”

“Fucking… ow…!” Morgan grit out and reached out to push the woman off him. “You little—!”

In a display of sensual dexterity, Akemi spun on the young man’s abdomen and spread her legs wide. The soles of her shoes pressed on Morgan’s wrists, pinning them in place as she unhooked his breast plate and tossed it aside. She pushed up the remains of his shirt and grinned at the sight that awaited her; a well-chiselled chest and eight-pack abs that wouldn’t look too out of place on a marble statue.

“Look at all this…” she whispered, tracing every muscle and contour with her fingers. “Every inch of it, sculpted and moulded through hard labour… you never once touched one of those bodybuilding weights, did you?”

“Never had the time.” Morgan grunted, struggling to break free. “I’ve had missions and… other crap to deal with… Besides, I didn’t see the need to…” he gasped and let his head fall back. “Damn it woman…”

Akemi giggled and let her fingers wander upwards. Thanks to his healing factor, Morgan didn’t really develop scarring unless the injuries were lethal. As a result, only the most prominent of scars remained on his form, though some were less noticeable than others.

The orangette lost her smile when she discovered a few particular scars on Morgan’s chest, shaped suspiciously like bullet wounds. She let her fingers wander there, tracing them and thinking about what caused them.

“You’ve gotten quiet.” Morgan asked. “What’s wrong?”

“These scars.” She scratched one of the scars and felt the knight under her twitch at the contact. “Where did you get them?”

“…Those are old scars.” The young man sighed. “You probably wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“I do.” The orangette dug a nail into one of those scars. “So start talking.”

“Okay, okay…” Morgan sucked in a deep breath. “Years ago, I used to go by the name Alexander Pendragon. My twin sister, Amelia Pendragon, liked the thought of having power and the right to rule my homeland. So much so that she plotted to take a special sword I was supposed to inherit, one that would denote the next ruler of the country, for herself. To do that, she sent out hitmen to kill me.” Akemi sucked in a breath. “I survived that and made my way home, where she proceeded to shoot me a few times and then dumped my unconscious body into the sea. I survived a few months floating on some driftwood before I was rescued and nursed back to health on an entirely different continent and learned how to use magic and a sword, but…”

“But the scars remained.” Akemi ran her hand down Morgan’s chest, her voice sudued and eyes downcast. But a fire burned in them, indignity and fury in equal measure. Family and loyalty were sacred tenets in the Red Sun Empire and one did not simply ‘betray’ people so close, especially blood family. “You were an idiot for not learning how to heal sooner and your sister should die a horrible death for betraying you. What happened to her? Did you kill her?”

“No.” he sighed. “She was defeated and humiliated by the demon she was supposedly destined to kill before I stepped in and saved her ass. I deemed that enough of a punishment for the wrongs she did to me.” A flex of his will and Excalibur appeared in his hand. “I had to use this fancy sword to do it, but I did and now the thing’s stuck to me like white on rice. I’ve tried getting rid of if, but I can’t. The thing’s bound to my soul.”

“Why would you want to get rid of it?” Akemi reached up, her chest brushing past Morgan’s face, and plucked the ornate weapon from his grasp. “You earned it fair and square after you’ve beaten the demon your backstabbing sister couldn’t. You deserve it, Morgan. And this sword is… It’s powerful. More powerful than some of the swords I’ve seen. Why would you—”

“Because that thing brought me nothing but grief and drove my twin into choosing power over family.” Morgan spat. “If its power causes familial disputes and makes siblings kill each other, then I’d rather it disappear.”

Akemi stared at him, shocked. Morgan saw her look and chuckled.

He moved, forcing his pinned arms through the earth and pulled Akemi’s legs with him so that she ended up straddling his lap. He sat up, hands running up her legs to her hips, waist, and sides before settling on her back. He pulled her into hug, letting her head rest against his chest as he rested a cheek on the top of her head.

“There are more important things in life than just power, Akemi. I won’t tell you to change your views on how life works so I’ll just state mine.” He sighed. “Power is simply a means to an end, a tool. How you use that tool determines whether or not you can find happiness. My happiness has me settling down with a wife in a comfortable home and raising a few children. A son and a daughter, maybe.” Akemi was thankful that her face was hidden from view; she’d have killed him if he saw the blush on her face. “The only reason why I want power is to see that goal accomplished. That’s all.”

“…That sounds so sappy.” Akemi murmured, tucking herself closer to Morgan’s warmth. “And I don’t think I’d make a good mother.”

“Every woman says that about themselves. But those that do just haven’t tried it yet.”  Morgan chuckled.  “C’mon. We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

He pulled away and stood up, stumbling away to retrieve his discarded breastplate. Akemi stared at him for a moment before standing up herself, watching him move in a seemingly new light.

Such selflessness… such nobility…

Something throbbed in her heart and part of her longed to be embraced like that again.