we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Given how cool it has become in the wake of the storms, Ronin feels like he’s on fire. It’s a fire that burns in his eyes and all the way through to his core, pulsing insistently in the wake of Remi’s teasing. He draws in a fluttery sort of breath, one hand wrapped in the Alchemist’s curls, the other braced hard against the doorframe. It’s a decision that turns out to be a wise one, as it happens.
”Reparations? Well, wonder of wonders, I think I know of a good place you can st— ah, fuck...” Ronin rides the curse out on a moan, tightening his fingers in Remi’s hair and trying to arch his hips forward, but of course it’s impossible, held in place as he is by the other man. He’s helpless to watch as the Alchemist takes all of him in, the sensation nearly causing his eyes to roll back, but he’s captured by the sea green gaze locked on his own.
”Remi,” he moans again, forcing out a few steady breaths. ”More.”
”Reparations? Well, wonder of wonders, I think I know of a good place you can st— ah, fuck...” Ronin rides the curse out on a moan, tightening his fingers in Remi’s hair and trying to arch his hips forward, but of course it’s impossible, held in place as he is by the other man. He’s helpless to watch as the Alchemist takes all of him in, the sensation nearly causing his eyes to roll back, but he’s captured by the sea green gaze locked on his own.
”Remi,” he moans again, forcing out a few steady breaths. ”More.”
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
