REMI
the bastion
Darling, you never could scare me
Set me ablaze like you do
Set me ablaze like you do
Remi grins against Ronin’s temple, the kind of smile that’s all teeth and trouble, warm and boyish and head-over-heels. "Have I?" he murmurs, as if that’s something he might need to confirm with a little more kissing. The words curl softly into his husband's skin before Remi leans back just enough to meet his eyes, a spark of mischief glittering behind the affection. He huffs out a laugh, one of those half-sighs that says he’s been very brave indeed. "Lying does help," he concedes with mock solemnity, tipping his glass lightly toward Ronin’s. "But gods, I’m exhausted. I think I’ve told the same story about the last 10 years of our lives six different ways depending on who was listening."
With a dramatic sweep of his free hand, he gestures vaguely toward the crowd and tents. "For our twentieth, I’m handing out cue cards at the door. ‘Yes, we’re still together.’ ‘Yes, it’s been that long.’ ‘Yes, we still like each other.’ Blah blah." His nose wrinkles with faux disdain, though the smile hasn’t left his face.
When Ronin leans in again, when lips press gently to his forehead, Remi sighs—but this time it’s soft and full of contentment, like his bones are finally allowed to rest. He closes his eyes, letting the press of affection soak into him like sunlight into stone, then tugs Ronin in close with his free hand until they’re touching from shoulder to hip. No grandeur, no declarations. Just the shape of them together, familiar and firm.
"...Of course, there’s still plenty of time for the night to be ruined," he adds with a crooked grin, glancing sidelong at his husband. "You could start a fistfight with someone for looking at me. Edy could try to lead a nude conga line of the dead. I’m just saying—lots of opportunity." But his fingers stay curled gently at Ronin’s back, like he doesn’t really believe any of it. Like he’s already certain this will stay one of the best nights of their lives.
With a dramatic sweep of his free hand, he gestures vaguely toward the crowd and tents. "For our twentieth, I’m handing out cue cards at the door. ‘Yes, we’re still together.’ ‘Yes, it’s been that long.’ ‘Yes, we still like each other.’ Blah blah." His nose wrinkles with faux disdain, though the smile hasn’t left his face.
When Ronin leans in again, when lips press gently to his forehead, Remi sighs—but this time it’s soft and full of contentment, like his bones are finally allowed to rest. He closes his eyes, letting the press of affection soak into him like sunlight into stone, then tugs Ronin in close with his free hand until they’re touching from shoulder to hip. No grandeur, no declarations. Just the shape of them together, familiar and firm.
"...Of course, there’s still plenty of time for the night to be ruined," he adds with a crooked grin, glancing sidelong at his husband. "You could start a fistfight with someone for looking at me. Edy could try to lead a nude conga line of the dead. I’m just saying—lots of opportunity." But his fingers stay curled gently at Ronin’s back, like he doesn’t really believe any of it. Like he’s already certain this will stay one of the best nights of their lives.
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.
