jump, then fall

i'm not the man they think i am at home

One of Remi's feet comes to tangle around Finn's, helping to anchor the alchemist to the bed and the Spyglass both. He wants them to move together such that gripping against some part of Finn and fucking him, is entirely the wrong way to go about things. So instead Remi shifts himself up slightly to graze his cheek against one of Finn's temples as his hips begin to roll and scoop against him.

"More it is," The alchemist agrees, but that doesn't mean his pace increases. Instead, he seems to double-down on his intentionality, fixing his mind on every stroke, every bit of pressure his fingertips afford the Spyglass, and keeping every interval consistent that they might both know and hate this expectant rhythm.

Unlike Finn's emotions, watered-down and muddled from the Dreamdust as they are, Remi's are uncomplicated and bright. Comprised of the primary colours at first, Remi's need and lust are like reddish-purple waves against a beach painted with unwavering adoration and affection. With everything shiny and perfect with Ronin as it has been, the architecture of the alchemist's emotions is effortless and welcoming; it isn't into these open hallways and doors that Remi seeks to meet Finn with every thrust and distracted kiss.