[SE] through the night water

RONIN

It absolutely is not what he wants Remi to be doing, and as the remnants of the Lullaby's clothing are carried off into the estuary, Ronin is left with the scarred and well-muscled canvas of his husband's body, begging to be painted with finger marks and bruising kisses. One hand is already grazing down the other man's ribcage to grip his hips when the travelling tongue spills tantalisingly from his tongue, the Nova's inhale nothing more than a shivery hitch in his chest.

"You know that's too much," he hisses warningly into Remi's ear, his free hand snaking up and around his chest to grip his jaw, as if daring him to bite down on Ronin's hand. Pressing closer, if it weren't for the smell of blood in the air or the Lullaby's moonlit silhouette in the blackness of the water, this might have been a time for teasing, for pause. Unfortunately, all the worst parts of Ronin are at the helm tonight, and it's with very little regard for prolonging the moment that he adjusts himself and surges forward, entering the Lullaby with an open mouthed moan against the side of his neck.

Fingers flinch against one of Remi's hips, sure to leave imprints, Ronin drawing him back with each thrust in a pace best described as bruising.

soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl