These are the last blues we're ever gonna have
Nearly about to mumble some clumsy protest about soldier brutality as his shirt is summarily torn, the onslaught of his husband's emotions—Ronin's, not the make-believe soldier's—has Remi's eyes rolling up and back as he hisses in a breath. Staggering, it's only experience that has the fingers of Remi's left hand—the one curled into the Nova's hair instead of the one wrapped around his cock—clenching in response to the garnet-bright wave of fire and blue-lust that engulfs him, lest he give into the weakening of his knees.
No longer a commoner and a soldier, but two men so in love that they seem constantly reduced to showing it in the most absurd ways, Remi huffs out a sound that's as much laughter as it is a means of catching his breath before awkwardly pulling his hand out from the front of Ronin's pants. "Surprise. It was me all along." He chuckles in a low voice, green eyes flashing in the dim light of the alleyway with boyish amusement.
No longer a commoner and a soldier, but two men so in love that they seem constantly reduced to showing it in the most absurd ways, Remi huffs out a sound that's as much laughter as it is a means of catching his breath before awkwardly pulling his hand out from the front of Ronin's pants. "Surprise. It was me all along." He chuckles in a low voice, green eyes flashing in the dim light of the alleyway with boyish amusement.
the glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
