i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see
Remi hums in agreement, though his voice is already starting to fray around the edges of focus. "Maybe," he murmurs, lips brushing Ronin’s jaw as he speaks. "But your name likely goes a lot farther than mine does up there." The mischief in his voice might be fond, but it’s hardly steady; especially not with the way Ronin crowds in against him, all golden heat and terrible restraint.
The tree at his back is warm from the sun, but it’s nothing compared to the press of Ronin’s body, the way his mouth captures Remi’s like a secret, like something sacred. Remi exhales sharply against it, the sound swallowed into the kiss, and without hesitation, his arms shift to answer. One slides low, curling around Ronin’s hip to pull him in closer, greedy and firm in a way that leaves no room between them. The other finds the back of his husband’s neck, fingers threading through dark hair, curling possessively. The pulse of arousal through their bond is unfiltered now—deep and sudden and tethered to the raw gravity of how easily, how endlessly, Ronin can undo him.
When Remi finally pulls back, it’s just enough to draw breath, their noses still brushing, the air between them gone heavy and warm. The look he gives Ronin is slow, adoring, and just a touch feral. "You always do this," he murmurs, voice rough with affection. "I bring you out here for a nice time, and you go and
ruin it by being impossibly attractive." His hand tightens at Ronin’s hip, the other still curled in his hair. "What if I really had wanted to go get that drink, mm?" he teases, shifting his hips forward enough to imply that if he had been so inclined, he'd need to wait more than a few minutes before being able to properly walk without having to grimace with every step.
The tree at his back is warm from the sun, but it’s nothing compared to the press of Ronin’s body, the way his mouth captures Remi’s like a secret, like something sacred. Remi exhales sharply against it, the sound swallowed into the kiss, and without hesitation, his arms shift to answer. One slides low, curling around Ronin’s hip to pull him in closer, greedy and firm in a way that leaves no room between them. The other finds the back of his husband’s neck, fingers threading through dark hair, curling possessively. The pulse of arousal through their bond is unfiltered now—deep and sudden and tethered to the raw gravity of how easily, how endlessly, Ronin can undo him.
When Remi finally pulls back, it’s just enough to draw breath, their noses still brushing, the air between them gone heavy and warm. The look he gives Ronin is slow, adoring, and just a touch feral. "You always do this," he murmurs, voice rough with affection. "I bring you out here for a nice time, and you go and
ruin it by being impossibly attractive." His hand tightens at Ronin’s hip, the other still curled in his hair. "What if I really had wanted to go get that drink, mm?" he teases, shifting his hips forward enough to imply that if he had been so inclined, he'd need to wait more than a few minutes before being able to properly walk without having to grimace with every step.
THE
BASTION
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.
