REMI
Remi doesn’t care what the kisses are for, not really. He hums in pleasure under them, lazy and indulgent, only to grumble low and wounded the moment Ronin stops, like a mild mannered but utterly spoiled puppy.
The kettle starts to rumble and Remi twitches, instinct shifting his limbs like he might get up to deal with it if only to stop the noise. But then, with impeccable timing, Ronin's projection is already up and moving. Grinning into the pillow, Remi sighs back against his husband, voice muffled and dry. "We should really give that guy a raise."
One of Ronin’s hands is guided around his chest and held there, tucked in like an extra layer of warmth and love, as natural as breathing. Remi exhales, deep and adoring, letting his fingers rest over the Knight’s knuckles. "It hasn’t been too bad so far," he muses, drowsy but sincere. "I was thinking I’d help gather more building supplies for your training grounds." His tone is casual, almost modest.
And then, angling his head back in that awkward, over-the-shoulder way to catch even the smallest sliver of Ronin’s face, Remi grins. It’s crooked and boyish, his eyes bright with mischief. "I’ve been thinking very hard about doing it," he adds solemnly, clearly expecting praise just for the intention.
"And yours?"
The kettle starts to rumble and Remi twitches, instinct shifting his limbs like he might get up to deal with it if only to stop the noise. But then, with impeccable timing, Ronin's projection is already up and moving. Grinning into the pillow, Remi sighs back against his husband, voice muffled and dry. "We should really give that guy a raise."
One of Ronin’s hands is guided around his chest and held there, tucked in like an extra layer of warmth and love, as natural as breathing. Remi exhales, deep and adoring, letting his fingers rest over the Knight’s knuckles. "It hasn’t been too bad so far," he muses, drowsy but sincere. "I was thinking I’d help gather more building supplies for your training grounds." His tone is casual, almost modest.
And then, angling his head back in that awkward, over-the-shoulder way to catch even the smallest sliver of Ronin’s face, Remi grins. It’s crooked and boyish, his eyes bright with mischief. "I’ve been thinking very hard about doing it," he adds solemnly, clearly expecting praise just for the intention.
"And yours?"
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
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.
