the bastion
i don't want the world to see me,
because I don't think they'd understand
because I don't think they'd understand
The tips of Remi’s ears heat before he can think to try and stop it, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen as if Ashe’s praise has caught him somewhere unguarded. He ducks his head a fraction, curls brushing his brow, but there’s no disguising the way his mouth curves; boyish, self-conscious, and a little pleased all at once.
And as much as he’s missed her—gods, how he’s missed her, they both have—the part of him that’s been strung tight since the first glass was poured at the party only pulls tighter now. Ashe saying sometime is a mercy, because he’s not sure he could manage a coherent story with his pulse still thrumming toward something far less conversational.
He swallows, slow, and turns a sly look toward Ronin, the corner of his mouth ticking up. "I hope you can forgive me," he murmurs, clearing his throat and giving Ashe an affectionate nudge with his shoulder. "Gods know I’ve missed you. But this is our ten-year anniversary, and.." His voice trails into something half-apology, half-confession, the gleam in his eyes making it plain that his thoughts have been nowhere near polite conversation for hours. "I’d be lying if I said I was able to think about much beyond tearing my husband out of this suit."
His grin flashes, boyish and unrepentant, and he gives a little shrug that’s all mischief wrapped in charm. "So, if you won't hate us for it, can we postpone the embarrassing stories for another night? One where I can think a touch more clearly." Not that he wasn't thinking clearly necessarily, it's just that all he could imagine was the back of Ronin's thighs hitting their bed as he removed the Knight's oh so handsome outfit. The look he throws Ronin after that is anything but innocent, and his fingers curl a little tighter into his husband’s hand, as if to make plain exactly how the rest of the night is going to go.
And as much as he’s missed her—gods, how he’s missed her, they both have—the part of him that’s been strung tight since the first glass was poured at the party only pulls tighter now. Ashe saying sometime is a mercy, because he’s not sure he could manage a coherent story with his pulse still thrumming toward something far less conversational.
He swallows, slow, and turns a sly look toward Ronin, the corner of his mouth ticking up. "I hope you can forgive me," he murmurs, clearing his throat and giving Ashe an affectionate nudge with his shoulder. "Gods know I’ve missed you. But this is our ten-year anniversary, and.." His voice trails into something half-apology, half-confession, the gleam in his eyes making it plain that his thoughts have been nowhere near polite conversation for hours. "I’d be lying if I said I was able to think about much beyond tearing my husband out of this suit."
His grin flashes, boyish and unrepentant, and he gives a little shrug that’s all mischief wrapped in charm. "So, if you won't hate us for it, can we postpone the embarrassing stories for another night? One where I can think a touch more clearly." Not that he wasn't thinking clearly necessarily, it's just that all he could imagine was the back of Ronin's thighs hitting their bed as he removed the Knight's oh so handsome outfit. The look he throws Ronin after that is anything but innocent, and his fingers curl a little tighter into his husband’s hand, as if to make plain exactly how the rest of the night is going to go.
when everything's meant to be broken,
i just want you to know who I am
i just want you to know who I am
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.
