the things we hold are always the first to go
Ronin will never tire of successfully flustering his husband, especially given that any comments like this might be equally received with carnal need just as often as they are with boyish nerves. Smiling into his coffee, he raises his mug to gently clink it against Remi's, murmuring a cheers as well. "And after all the things we got up to in our dreams," he whispers affectionately.
The coffee is far too hot to chug, so it's a wonderfully tense few minutes where every accidental touch feels more than, where every sip of his drink is as necessary as it is utterly irrelevant, and Ronin is just considerig twisting the knife by suggesting they have a second cup when he realises he absolutely doesn't have the self-control for it.
"What was it I was planning to do, again?" he asks, just to be a shit about it as he sets his mug down and stretches an arm around his husband.
The coffee is far too hot to chug, so it's a wonderfully tense few minutes where every accidental touch feels more than, where every sip of his drink is as necessary as it is utterly irrelevant, and Ronin is just considerig twisting the knife by suggesting they have a second cup when he realises he absolutely doesn't have the self-control for it.
"What was it I was planning to do, again?" he asks, just to be a shit about it as he sets his mug down and stretches an arm around his husband.
