we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
With just enough time to scoff out a laugh, before Ronin can comment either on how much more he loves the Bastion, or his perpetual state of hotness, Remi's mouth seals against his own again. Whatever response he might have been considering is moaned into the kiss, one hand dropping to his husband's hips while the other skates up the length of his spine, cupping the back of his neck as if to keep him from parting too soon.
Only Sugar's cry of impatience has his eyes flickering open, the warning enough to realise what's about to happen but not to do anything about it, and as the dragon swoops into a dive, she's able to unleash a breath of frost that catches Ronin right against the ribs. His breath hitches against Remi's lips, the Knight flinching closer to his husband and drawing away just enough to blurt a string of expletives at his companion, most of them laughingly.
"Fuck, fine," he grumbles, though his wings do flex and flare out to mantle around them, like he might be able to protect them from further mischief.
Only Sugar's cry of impatience has his eyes flickering open, the warning enough to realise what's about to happen but not to do anything about it, and as the dragon swoops into a dive, she's able to unleash a breath of frost that catches Ronin right against the ribs. His breath hitches against Remi's lips, the Knight flinching closer to his husband and drawing away just enough to blurt a string of expletives at his companion, most of them laughingly.
"Fuck, fine," he grumbles, though his wings do flex and flare out to mantle around them, like he might be able to protect them from further mischief.
THE WHITE KNIGHT
and continue fighting
