the white knight
"Then I would likely say I am creeping well past a four," Ronin admits, the words almost mumbled against the hot, damp skin of his husband's neck, and as he's summarily sssh!ed, the Knight has to cage a hopeless laugh in the back of his throat, because he's entirely unsure how he's meant to be quiet throughout this training exercise. And despite the ruby pulse in the other man's emotions, within the expertly arranged tentacles around him, he has no chance at telling whether the Bastion is remotely affected by his own game.
And it might be alas or it might be a relief, because bound hands could well result in the Knight accidentally drowning himself. "I believe the entire point was that we weren't thinking," he continues, trying to keep his breath steady and his voice even, though gods if even sitting still isn't beginning to become a problem. "I think I prefer this game to marco polo," he adds, biting his lower lip against a moan that tries to escape.
And it might be alas or it might be a relief, because bound hands could well result in the Knight accidentally drowning himself. "I believe the entire point was that we weren't thinking," he continues, trying to keep his breath steady and his voice even, though gods if even sitting still isn't beginning to become a problem. "I think I prefer this game to marco polo," he adds, biting his lower lip against a moan that tries to escape.
i'm almost me again
she's almost you
she's almost you
RONIN
