even my darkness shines for you
Ronin accepts the dramatic concession with all the smug satisfaction of a pantomime villain, inclining his head graciously towards his husband. "And you always keep your promises, I know," he says, voice rich with mirth, head tilting into the fingers that slide through his dark hair. Happily directing his attention back to the body pressed flushed against his own and the way his wicked fingers want to slip up the back of Remi's shirt, the other man's question draws a quiet chuckle from Ronin's lips.
"I'll tell her you said that--" he quips - almost - until the words are stolen by the eager press of the Bastion's mouth, turning them into little more than a moan of surprise and pleasure. With nowhere to lean - no blanket to plop down onto or bed to tumble upon - Ronin is forced to hold his own weight no matter how much Remi's touch turns his legs to jelly, and for a second he feels as heavy as the anchor lying somewhere nearby.
"Remember that little bar we used to go to, on the Sea of Branches?" he asks when he's finally forced to come back up for air. "The one where we had to climb out of the bathroom window that one time? We should go and see if it still exists."
"I'll tell her you said that--" he quips - almost - until the words are stolen by the eager press of the Bastion's mouth, turning them into little more than a moan of surprise and pleasure. With nowhere to lean - no blanket to plop down onto or bed to tumble upon - Ronin is forced to hold his own weight no matter how much Remi's touch turns his legs to jelly, and for a second he feels as heavy as the anchor lying somewhere nearby.
"Remember that little bar we used to go to, on the Sea of Branches?" he asks when he's finally forced to come back up for air. "The one where we had to climb out of the bathroom window that one time? We should go and see if it still exists."
the
WHITEKNIGHT
