RONIN
"It's true," Ronin supposes with a smile growing ever more crooked, only for his lips to flinch into an expression not unlike pain (and yet so far from it) as the other man rises up the length of his body without giving even an whisper of reprieve from his teasing. Shuddering out a breathy exhale and leaning one hand back against the table, as if the miniscule amount of space might kickstart his brain (it does not), it's with hazy blue eyes that he regards the other man.
"Well, then," he whispers, trying and failing not to let his lips twitch into a grin, "I don't suppose you'd like to work on me a little? If not, I am something of an artist myself." One of his legs hooks around the Lullaby's hips, pinning him closer, though to say that Ronin is malleable right now is an understatement. As sure as Leafchange makes him possessive and dominant, the coldest season quite literally sends those urges into hibernation.
"Well, then," he whispers, trying and failing not to let his lips twitch into a grin, "I don't suppose you'd like to work on me a little? If not, I am something of an artist myself." One of his legs hooks around the Lullaby's hips, pinning him closer, though to say that Ronin is malleable right now is an understatement. As sure as Leafchange makes him possessive and dominant, the coldest season quite literally sends those urges into hibernation.
one more wish for you
