Summary: Sutton has a dream that wakes her in the middle of the night, and Kenji reassures her she’s right where she belongs.
Sutton wakes abruptly in the middle of the night a few weeks after getting back from the Prism World, and is surprised to find that her cheeks are damp. She’s not crying now as she wipes her hands over her face, but she must have been in her sleep. Kenji is sleeping next to her when she turns her head, sprawled out on his stomach, one of his arms wrapped tightly around his pillow. Sutton props herself up against the headboard, the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Kenji’s back relaxing her.
The dream comes back to her in bits and pieces, most of it hazy and fading fast, but one thing remains at the front of her mind. She’d been with her birth parents, their faces blurred and out of focus. Their words aren’t all entirely clear, but she distinctly remembers her birth mother saying, “You don’t belong there. You should be here, with your real family.”
The words bother her, a lot. Although her birth parents had tried to persuade her to stay when she’d been in the Prism World, they hadn’t said those words, so she’s not sure why her mind decided to conjure them up. Sutton brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and watching the headlights of a passing car dance across the curtains.
Next to her, Kenji stirs, rolling to his side, his eyes blinking open sleepily.
His Sutton radar, she thinks affectionately. It never fails, that as heavy as he sleeps, he always wakes up when she does. It’s gotten worse (better?) since she got back.
“’s wrong?” Kenji asks through a yawn.
He scoots over to her, pulling her arms away from her knees and wrapping his own arm around her waist as she lowers her legs down. Her hand automatically comes up to run through his sleep-mussed hair, and she smiles briefly at the quiet contented noise he makes.
“Just a dream,” she murmurs.
“Mm,” Kenji mumbles into her side. “Tell me.”
“I…” she trails off.
She doesn’t know why she’s so hesitant to tell him. It really was just a dream, a product of her overactive, sleep-deprived imagination. Kenji shifts, sitting next to her, his lips brushing gently across her cheek.
“Sutton. What was it?”
She sighs, then tells him the parts she can remember.
“I know it’s just a dream,” she finishes. “But…”
“You know you belong here, right, darling?” Kenji asks.
He turns her chin so she’s facing him. “You’ll always belong here. You have family here. Friends. Me.”
Kenji tickles her side at that last part, making her squirm and laugh quietly.
“Where you come from doesn’t determine where you should be, Sutton. You decide that.”
“I know,” she says, murmuring a quiet, “Mmm” as Kenji presses his lips to her neck.
“Good.”
She sighs quietly as he kisses down her neck and lightly trails his lips over her collarbone. Sutton tugs lightly at his hair, trying to get him to tilt his head up so she can kiss him, but he ignores her, pushing the strap of her tank top aside to run his lips over her shoulder.
“Kenji,” she says, a bit insistently.
“Yes?”
She can hear the hint of sleepy teasing in his voice, and shakes her head with a wry smile. Kenji’s teeth graze back over her collarbone.
“I don’t know if you believe me,” he says, sinking his teeth into her skin, just enough to make her gasp and tighten her grip in his hair.
“You belong here, darling,” he murmurs again.
“I know,” Sutton says, a bit confused.
He glances up, and even in the near dark, she can see a trace of vulnerability on his face, and realizes the words are for him as much as for her.
“Kenji,” she says softly. “I know.”
He smiles, the vulnerable look replaced by that teasing one she loves.
“I don’t know,” he says, nudging her to lay down.
His hands glide underneath her tank top, pushing it up over her stomach, his fingertips just brushing the swell of her breasts.
“I’m not convinced,” he says, pressing his lips in a slow line up her stomach.
Impatient, Sutton sits up enough to pull her tank top over her head. Kenji groans quietly, kissing up her chest, slow kisses that only serve to make her more impatient. She tries, again, to bring his mouth up to hers, but instead, he kisses back down her stomach.
“Kenji,” she says warningly.
She feels his quiet laugh as he makes his way back up, painstakingly kissing her stomach, her chest, her shoulders. He sucks gently at her neck, ignoring her hands back in his hair, tugging a little harder this time. He knows exactly what he’s doing, she knows. Normally she loves this side of him, the slow buildup and teasing he seems so fond of in the middle of the night and the early mornings.
But usually he’ll actually kiss her, and her patience has reached its limit. Sutton rolls him easily, straddling his lap and watching him with a raised eyebrow, her hands braced against his chest.
“Kenji,” she says, trying to sound stern but unable when he grins at her and runs his hands up her thighs.
“Sutton.”
Sutton bends down, her hair framing his face and her lips hovering over his. His bare chest is warm against hers.
“Kiss me.”
“I have been,” Kenji insists with a cocky smirk.
“No, you haven’t.”
She brushes her lips over his, half-expecting him to keep teasing her and pull away. But he doesn’t, his hand slipping around her neck as he kisses her deeply. His teeth graze over her lower lip, his tongue tangling with hers as her eyes drift closed.
“Is this what you wanted, darling?” Kenji asks when they briefly pull apart.
Sutton grins, then laughs as he rolls them so she’s on her back again.
“Getting there,” she breathes.