REMI
the bastion
Darling, you never could scare me
Set me ablaze like you do
Set me ablaze like you do
Remi watches as Ronin retrieves the parcel, the crisp parchment rustling softly in his hands. "Mmm, well, I suppose I can work with that. But if I open this and it’s secretly a set of matching sweaters with our faces on them, we’re going to have words." What words those would be was anyone's guess.
Taking the package from Ronin’s hands, Remi weighs it in his palms before running his fingers over the neatly wrapped edges. His gaze flickers up just in time to see the Knight steal his drink back, and he snorts softly, shaking his head as he peels back the paper. The moment the fabric is revealed, he stills. His fingers ghost over the thick, navy-blue wool, the weight of it immediately promising warmth and practicality. But it’s the small embroidered kraken on the lapel that catches him off guard, his breath hitching slightly as he traces the silver stitching with the tip of his thumb.
For a moment, Remi says nothing. The world outside the Northaven could have been falling apart, and he wouldn’t have noticed; wouldn’t have cared.
Then, quietly, his lips curl into something softer than a smile. "So you're finally sick of me stealing all your sweaters, is that it?" His voice is quiet, but his eyes shine with something bright and painfully affectionate as he glances up at Ronin, his smile entirely crooked. "This is beautiful, Ronin."
Before the Knight can say anything, Remi moves. The coat is still draped over his arm as he steps forward, reaching for his husband with steady hands, pulling him in. It isn’t hurried, isn’t teasing. It’s deliberate. The kiss he presses to Ronin’s lips is slow, lingering, a silent thank you, a quiet promise.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against Ronin’s, his breath warm between them.
"You know this means I’m going to have to get you something equally thoughtful in return, don’t you?" (Not that such a thing was possible, Ronin was ever the better of them when it came to thoughtful gift giving).
Taking the package from Ronin’s hands, Remi weighs it in his palms before running his fingers over the neatly wrapped edges. His gaze flickers up just in time to see the Knight steal his drink back, and he snorts softly, shaking his head as he peels back the paper. The moment the fabric is revealed, he stills. His fingers ghost over the thick, navy-blue wool, the weight of it immediately promising warmth and practicality. But it’s the small embroidered kraken on the lapel that catches him off guard, his breath hitching slightly as he traces the silver stitching with the tip of his thumb.
For a moment, Remi says nothing. The world outside the Northaven could have been falling apart, and he wouldn’t have noticed; wouldn’t have cared.
Then, quietly, his lips curl into something softer than a smile. "So you're finally sick of me stealing all your sweaters, is that it?" His voice is quiet, but his eyes shine with something bright and painfully affectionate as he glances up at Ronin, his smile entirely crooked. "This is beautiful, Ronin."
Before the Knight can say anything, Remi moves. The coat is still draped over his arm as he steps forward, reaching for his husband with steady hands, pulling him in. It isn’t hurried, isn’t teasing. It’s deliberate. The kiss he presses to Ronin’s lips is slow, lingering, a silent thank you, a quiet promise.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against Ronin’s, his breath warm between them.
"You know this means I’m going to have to get you something equally thoughtful in return, don’t you?" (Not that such a thing was possible, Ronin was ever the better of them when it came to thoughtful gift giving).
I'd walk over coals in my bare feet
If that gets me closer to you
If that gets me closer to you
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.
