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It’s not complicated under him. The mirrors in your mind turn white and blank while you try to keep yourself from crying out. Your jaw is worked open by a stray claw as Qibli growls a string of nothings into your ear. The only thing you have to grapple with is the dirt under your talons.
It’s afterward that you find difficulty. You can’t look Moonwatcher in the eyes anymore. She thinks it's because of Darkstalker - and it isn’t not - but you’re not sure that you’re in any position to criticize lies.
You try to keep quiet, you aren’t sure you trust your mouth anymore. Qibli’s noticed, Moon’s noticed, three moons Peril’s noticed. Sometimes they try to broach the subject, offer help with the problem they can easily see but can’t identify. Moon offers concerned glances at the end of conversations. Kinkajou herds you out of isolation. Peril… Okay Peril avoids you.
One day while the afterglow slow-drips out of your mind, Qibli asks you about it, “Are you okay with this?”
“Is Moon?” You grumble back.
“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”
Typical. You don’t dignify that with a response. The obvious criticisms ring loud in your head. You could’ve told her, of course. You didn’t, of course.
Qibli sighs as he pulls himself off of you, “I’m doing this for you, I just want you to be happy.”
You can’t stand how despite all of your bickering and attempts to get him to hate you he still makes sure to look out for you, or rather you hate how your body reacts to it. You hate how even the slightest positive reinforcement dismantles your walls, how much you have to work to rebuild them. You let out an indignant growl. “Buddy?” Qibli asks with what you know is fully genuine concern, “I won’t do this if it’s hurting you.”
“Fine,” you groan out as you roll over to face him. You wince, your muscles weren’t quite ready for the movement. He waits patiently, head tilted with worry. “So what, we just stop and pretend this never happened?”
“If that’s what you want,” he says with visible disappointment.
Some time that lasted. Less than a week and you’re lowering yourself over him. The tension from the vaguely sexual jabs spilling over into each other. “Sands-snorter,” you mumble out as your body adjusts to him.
“Something wrong, princess?” he replies. And yeah, any other time you would’ve hit him, instead you melt into him. He says it again, testing the waters and you shiver around him. You vaguely perceive the grin on his face as he begins to bombard you with further teasing. You lose yourself in it, in being his princess. It’s not complicated when you're under him.
It’s the aftermath that’s complicated.