we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
This is a bad idea, Ronin wants to say, but he can't bear to let the words slip through the Attuned bond lest it encourage Remi to actually think with reason. This is the exact time we shouldn't be doing this. But they are, and he's powerless to stop it now that the fire is kindled and ablaze. His lips barely part enough to sip in a breath before the alchemist's hands and mouth are all over him again, and his back arches into the friction broiling between them. He wants so much more than this, and the way he fumbles to pull at the few clothes that they wear says as much.
"Touch me," he all but begs, having successfully freed himself (sort of) from his sweatpants, and it's with exquisite frustration that he realises how tangled up in the blankets they are. Grumbling, and fighting with the fabric, the sheets and his own erection, the Star hisses out a curse and finally shifts onto his knees to get rid of it all.
"Touch me," he all but begs, having successfully freed himself (sort of) from his sweatpants, and it's with exquisite frustration that he realises how tangled up in the blankets they are. Grumbling, and fighting with the fabric, the sheets and his own erection, the Star hisses out a curse and finally shifts onto his knees to get rid of it all.
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
