RONIN
"How could I say no?" Ronin's words are quietly mumbled against Remi's lips, heat flooding his cheeks as the other man's arousal and impatience bleed into him everywhere they touch, throwing fuel on a fire that's already well out of control. Easily manoeuvered under his husband's skilled touch, they move together as if the morning has been choreographed and practiced right down to the last detail. That alone is enough to have Ronin near senseless with want; to be known so completely, so intimately by another person isn't something he'll ever take for granted.
Melting back into Remi's chest, the Knight turns his head just enough to be able to glance at his husband out of the corner of his eye, though he'll be able to feel the thunder of his heartbeat and the flex of his fingers even if he can't see his expression. "I want you," he whispers - an affirmation that feels both entirely unnecessary and not at the same time - before his voice tapers off into a rough moan as the other man's hips slide forward.
Dropping his hand to rest it over Remi's, it's with something close to relief that he lets himself relax, head tipping back against the Bastion's shoulder, lips parting to sip in a soft breath. "You feel even better than you taste," Ronin whispers, the slightest hint of mischief in his voice as his hips grind slowly backward.
Melting back into Remi's chest, the Knight turns his head just enough to be able to glance at his husband out of the corner of his eye, though he'll be able to feel the thunder of his heartbeat and the flex of his fingers even if he can't see his expression. "I want you," he whispers - an affirmation that feels both entirely unnecessary and not at the same time - before his voice tapers off into a rough moan as the other man's hips slide forward.
Dropping his hand to rest it over Remi's, it's with something close to relief that he lets himself relax, head tipping back against the Bastion's shoulder, lips parting to sip in a soft breath. "You feel even better than you taste," Ronin whispers, the slightest hint of mischief in his voice as his hips grind slowly backward.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
