RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
”Everyone’s got a place,” Ronin murmurs distractedly, as if to say that perhaps Torchline needs a Ianto in charge of it, since it doesn’t seem to be doing well with the other type of person. But ultimately it’s Remi’s decision; all the Star cares about is what his husband wants and what he wants to do afterwards - or more accurately, what he wants to do in this moment. That there’s no teasing is entirely unexpected, and Ronin gasps into the mouth suddenly pressed against his own, fingers wrapping through soft curls and grasping at Remi’s hip.
He rocks into the touch, luxuriating in it, in how deliciously trapped he is against Remi’s kisses, against the grip of his hand. ”Our dream,” he corrects in a breathy growl, though that’s the extent of his complaints and objections. Ronin is exactly where he wants to be, and just now that is entirely at Remi’s mercy.
He rocks into the touch, luxuriating in it, in how deliciously trapped he is against Remi’s kisses, against the grip of his hand. ”Our dream,” he corrects in a breathy growl, though that’s the extent of his complaints and objections. Ronin is exactly where he wants to be, and just now that is entirely at Remi’s mercy.
show me your darkness.
