for 1000 nights i've been a restless soul
Remi tilts his head mischievously to the side, the look he gives Ronin entirely wasted in the dimness if not for the way it arrives through the bond with all its warmth and wickedness intact. Well, if you really want to, he thinks, as if he would never dream of denying his husband the noble domestic pursuit of LongNight embroidery. Though I can think of far better uses for your hands and time during LongNight.
His mouth curves around the edge of his glass as he hums softly under his breath, thoughtful again as his gaze tracks the narrow bones of the Northaven. No matter how many things were inside Ianto’s wagon, he was always able to move it around, he points out after a moment, shrugging with one shoulder while keeping himself folded comfortably against Ronin. So perhaps it will not matter.
The innuendo earns a quiet snicker as Remi lifts the cocktail to his lips, letting the smoke and gin burn across his tongue in a way that feels almost medicinal after the day they have had. His eyes fall back to the sleeping twins, to the unfamiliar length of limbs beneath blankets, the dark curls against pillows. His eyebrows lift thoughtfully. I am not sure, he admits of whether they will sleep through, his thumb brushing idly against Ronin’s side. But at least they should not wake up crying if they do not. But then, given the sort of mischief the boys already seem predisposed to, perhaps crying was not the worst possibility afterall.
His mouth curves around the edge of his glass as he hums softly under his breath, thoughtful again as his gaze tracks the narrow bones of the Northaven. No matter how many things were inside Ianto’s wagon, he was always able to move it around, he points out after a moment, shrugging with one shoulder while keeping himself folded comfortably against Ronin. So perhaps it will not matter.
The innuendo earns a quiet snicker as Remi lifts the cocktail to his lips, letting the smoke and gin burn across his tongue in a way that feels almost medicinal after the day they have had. His eyes fall back to the sleeping twins, to the unfamiliar length of limbs beneath blankets, the dark curls against pillows. His eyebrows lift thoughtfully. I am not sure, he admits of whether they will sleep through, his thumb brushing idly against Ronin’s side. But at least they should not wake up crying if they do not. But then, given the sort of mischief the boys already seem predisposed to, perhaps crying was not the worst possibility afterall.
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.
