[SE] and it goes like this

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

Love makes Remi as boyish as it does malleable such that he's putty beneath Ronin's wandering fingers. "Every time you do that—" It's with the slightest movement that Remi's chin lowers to indicate the placement of the Huntsman's hands. "—I think I would give up every ability I have in order to turn are clothing into flower petals." It's a truly ridiculous thought, and yet no part of the colourful swirl of Remi's emotions indicates that it's a lie. "To have the power to have us be close so instantly...maybe it is just my empathy magic, but gods Ronin, I crave you."

Indeed they probably should keep going. Someone would be looking for the wagon to be returned for the next festival-goers to enjoy, and if the pair brought it back stained (ew), broken (guys), or worst of all, having eaten the luxere (gods you two), there would be consequences. Not overly important ones, but consequences just the same.

And yet, like his husband, Remi leans forward to meet Ronin's kiss as his fingers curl into possessive shapes that fit perfectly against his husband's upper thigh. ..you.. He thinks, feeling the whisker-sharp tickle of Ronin's scruff against his skin; as he catches the taste of Ronin amidst the cocoa and whipped cream; as his mind unspools as if over a razor's edge between destruction and unfettered love. you, and you, and you.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)