the baffled king composing hallelujah
"Good," Ronin whispers, his tone honey sweet but softly wicked, "because truth be told, I never get tired of hearing you say it." Peering up at Remi and wanting nothing more than to reach for the flush of heat along the bridge of his nose as if he might be able to warm himself against it forever, the Knight is unfortunately distracted, though he can't find it in himself to complain. Instead, with a soft moan that rumbles against Remi's mouth and with greedy fingers plunging into soft and unruly curls, he succumbs to the punishment of kissing the man he loves for as long as he'll let him.
Panting softly as they part at last and feeling featherlight and undone such that he can only laugh along with Remi, Ronin offers him a gentle shrug. "It's almost the end of Longheat," he points out, "so you can look forward to me being anything but good quite soon, if past years are anything to go by." And gods help their mailman.
With amusement and love still fizzing through the tether of Remi's magic, Ronin feels the swell of his husband's love - relentless as the tide and endless as the horizon - like a wave about to take him out at the knees, but he does anything but fight it. "And it's you, for me," he manages to reply before his mouth is claimed a second time, and the world feels good and right in a way it really shouldn't under the circumstances. But here they are.
He parts, at last, from the other man by leaving a dozen tiny kisses scattered against Remi's cheek and jaw and neck, Ronin letting out a long, soul-deep sigh and relaxing into the cradle of his husband's shoulder. "I'll love you forever, you know," he tells him, as if it's as something as simple and knowable as the sunrise.
Panting softly as they part at last and feeling featherlight and undone such that he can only laugh along with Remi, Ronin offers him a gentle shrug. "It's almost the end of Longheat," he points out, "so you can look forward to me being anything but good quite soon, if past years are anything to go by." And gods help their mailman.
With amusement and love still fizzing through the tether of Remi's magic, Ronin feels the swell of his husband's love - relentless as the tide and endless as the horizon - like a wave about to take him out at the knees, but he does anything but fight it. "And it's you, for me," he manages to reply before his mouth is claimed a second time, and the world feels good and right in a way it really shouldn't under the circumstances. But here they are.
He parts, at last, from the other man by leaving a dozen tiny kisses scattered against Remi's cheek and jaw and neck, Ronin letting out a long, soul-deep sigh and relaxing into the cradle of his husband's shoulder. "I'll love you forever, you know," he tells him, as if it's as something as simple and knowable as the sunrise.
