RONIN
the white knight
"If that's the case, I can easily stay sober and just let you carry me home," Ronin says, tasting the lie on his lips and smiling around it. Only two sips into his punch and he already knows the zig-zagging trajectory the evening is guaranteed to take; sober is not a part of it, especially not after learning that remaining that way is once again optional.
Steepling his fingers and waiting for Remi's approval (or denial, as the case might be) of his offer of live music, Ronin sighs and lets his foot brush against the other man's calf in response. "Fine," he says airily. "Because it's you, I'll keep my musical talents for the ride home." The one where his husband will be carrying him like a damsel, yes. That ride.
"Oooo, karaoke though," he echoes, his hand sneaking out to grab his drink as well before he even realises he's copying Remi. "And you won't have to fight anyone off, husband. My eyes will only be for you no matter what I decide to sing." He winks.
Steepling his fingers and waiting for Remi's approval (or denial, as the case might be) of his offer of live music, Ronin sighs and lets his foot brush against the other man's calf in response. "Fine," he says airily. "Because it's you, I'll keep my musical talents for the ride home." The one where his husband will be carrying him like a damsel, yes. That ride.
"Oooo, karaoke though," he echoes, his hand sneaking out to grab his drink as well before he even realises he's copying Remi. "And you won't have to fight anyone off, husband. My eyes will only be for you no matter what I decide to sing." He winks.
