how could I freeze when you're hotter than hell?

i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

"Obviously there are dick jokes in the wagon," Remi fires back, scandalised that this even needs clarifying. "Ianto lives in it. He’s a gay merchant, Ronin. It’s practically woven into the upholstery."

Drawing himself up to his full height—which, critically, is taller than you Ronin, thank you very much—Remi plants a hand dramatically over his heart. "Grey pubes?" he echoes, scandalized anew. "I knew that wasn’t sand, you liar. I trusted you!"

But then Ronin’s grin cuts through the theatrics, and the mischief in his voice undoes Remi in an instant. His indignation melts like sugar in tea, and before the Knight can finish prowling close, Remi’s already reaching for him, one arm looping around Ronin’s waist, the other rising to cup his cheek with a sun-warm palm. The touch sends a pulse of golden affection through their bond, boyish and bright, already softening as he draws Ronin down into a kiss. It’s firm and fond and full of laughter, Remi's mouth curved into a smile even as he draws the Knight lfush against him.

"I’d do anything in the world," Remi murmurs against Ronin’s lips, "if it meant ending up here with you." Another kiss, gentler now, though no less adoring. Then another, quick and fluttering, and one more for good measure, pressed to the tip of Ronin’s nose just because he can.

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even my darkness shines for you

Throwing his hands up dramatically as if to apologise for making such an obvious faux pas when it comes to the gay stitching in gay Ianto's gay wagon, Ronin doesn't have time to announce that they got a badass over here before Remi is stepping up to meet him halfway - one full inch taller than he is and everything. Curling an arm around his husband in turn and leaning into the warm, calloused fingers that cup his cheek, he melts all too readily into the offered kiss, smiling against the Bastion's lips and barely resisting the urge to sweep him into a dip, as if they're ballroom dancing.

"Anything in the world, mm? Even admitting I was right about something?" he whispers, all playful curiosity threaded through with boundless love and affection, before he's being attacked with kisses. In place of their earlier juvenile yelling, Ronin's laughter echoes around the clearing now, and he tries to stop the assault by capturing Remi's lips in another real kiss, keen to take his weapons away from him.

"Did you find anything you could use for Flora's thing?" he asks, mumbling the question obnoxiously into his mouth.

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi draws back just enough to fix Ronin with a look of utter, theatrical pain. His brows pull together. His mouth twists. The agony is palpable. "Even admit you were right about something," he echoes solemnly, as if the words themselves taste like ash on his tongue. And yet—he sighs, long-suffering and noble—[]say]"I did promise." One hand tugs gently at the edge of Ronin’s tank top as if preparing to make a formal offering, but instead it slips up into his hair, curling at the nape of his neck with easy affection.

"Mmh?" Remi hums, leaning close enough for his breath to ghost against Ronin’s lips, "who’s Flora?" The sparkle in his eyes makes a mockery of the question, and without giving his husband a chance to scold him, he steals another kiss—this one deep and unapologetic, angled to ensure Ronin’s mouth stays otherwise occupied.

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even my darkness shines for you

Ronin accepts the dramatic concession with all the smug satisfaction of a pantomime villain, inclining his head graciously towards his husband. "And you always keep your promises, I know," he says, voice rich with mirth, head tilting into the fingers that slide through his dark hair. Happily directing his attention back to the body pressed flushed against his own and the way his wicked fingers want to slip up the back of Remi's shirt, the other man's question draws a quiet chuckle from Ronin's lips.

"I'll tell her you said that--" he quips - almost - until the words are stolen by the eager press of the Bastion's mouth, turning them into little more than a moan of surprise and pleasure. With nowhere to lean - no blanket to plop down onto or bed to tumble upon - Ronin is forced to hold his own weight no matter how much Remi's touch turns his legs to jelly, and for a second he feels as heavy as the anchor lying somewhere nearby.

"Remember that little bar we used to go to, on the Sea of Branches?" he asks when he's finally forced to come back up for air. "The one where we had to climb out of the bathroom window that one time? We should go and see if it still exists."

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi hums against Ronin’s mouth, his fingers tightening at the back of the Knight’s neck like he might just anchor them both here, consequences be damned. "Tell her and I’ll deny everything," he whispers between kisses, brushing his nose lightly against Ronin’s in a gesture as adoring as it is teasing. "I’ll claim void infection. Or memory loss. Maybe both."

He leans back slightly—not enough to create real distance, just enough to draw a breath and press his forehead lightly to Ronin’s. The humidity makes everything a little heavier, a little closer. The air. Their clothes. The weight of a decade shared, and gods but he can't get enough.

At the mention of the bar, Remi snorts softly, and his brows raise in faint surprise. "Gods, I’d forgotten about that place," he admits, voice low and fond. "I remember getting a touch handsy at the table, and then.." His grin blooms slow and wicked. "If I remember correctly, weren't we asked to leave..?"

Dragging his hands down to Ronin’s sides, Remi glances in the direction of the overgrown path. "We should absolutely go find out if we're still welcome," he says, as if he hasn’t already made that decision ten kisses ago. "But if it’s still standing, I fully expect you to at least buy me a drink before getting us kicked out again."

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even my darkness shines for you

Grumbling - mostly because he knows that Flora will likely believe Remi over him, especially when he brings up memory loss - Ronin rolls his eyes affectionately and is happy to concede keeping that little quip to himself. Besides, given how the trajectory of their afternoon is changing, he might well forget himself all about the Doubletake and their reason for being in the Greatwood. Currently, it seems to be to go in search of an old bar with even older memories.

"Yeah? I hadn't," Ronin says with a crooked grin, leaning in against the other man and catching his lips in another brief, sweet kiss. "I don't know if we were asked to leave, but I certainly remember that we didn't. We disappeared - quite literally - into one of the bathrooms, I think. Though I have no doubt they'd remember us if we showed back up." They might even be banned. Only one way to find out.

"Husband, I will buy you all of your favourite drinks. I bet they even keep a stock of your old gins on the top shelf. It has to be a point of pride, right, to stock something made by the old Greatwood Guardian." Torn between wanting to keep Remi close and actually start walking, Ronin compromises by winding an arm around the Bastion to tuck his hand into his back pocket, turning them towards the path.

"I wonder if the trees still listen to you like they did."

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi’s laugh is low and easy as they fall into step, his fingers playing idly with the hem of Ronin’s shirt where his hand slips into his back pocket. "Honestly, I can’t remember if that was the one with the green cocktails or the one with the chairs that broke when you looked at them wrong," he muses. "I think we’ve been kicked out of—or passionately exited from—more places than I care to admit." There’s no shame in it. Just fondness for the amount of time their affections for one another got the best of them.

But at the mention of the gin, and the title that he used to bear, something shifts faintly in the Bastion’s expression. His smile stays, but it softens at the edges, worn a little thinner by memory. "I miss it sometimes," he admits quietly. "Not the ruling—gods, I was a nightmare. But protecting it. The way the woods would hum when they recognized me." His fingers tighten subtly at Ronin’s hip, the press of his side just a little firmer.

"I felt like I was part of something. Not above it the way it can sometimes feel now. Just...woven in." He huffs a quiet breath, shaking the thought off before it lingers too long. "Still, if the trees remember me, maybe they’ll offer us a drink on the house."

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even my darkness shines for you

"I like to think of it as a point of pride," Ronin informs his husband as they stroll down the nearest dirt path - because honestly, it doesn't really matter which one they choose. It's up to the Greatwood whether or not they get where they're going. "I recall one bar we went to where they'd already pre-emptively banned us because of our behaviour at other establishments. I think that might have been back when we first moved to Torchline, though. And they would have had a good point." Not the finest point in their lives, but the sting of it has long since faded.

But then Remi's expression and mood are shifting somewhat, and Ronin hugs the other man more tightly against his side, leaning in to press an obnoxious kiss to his unruly curls. "There's no shame in missing it," he assures him, a soft breeze whispering through the trees around them. "And I know what you mean. Back when things felt more simple, even if they probably weren't. Between you and me, I think the trees could never forget you."

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he trails his fingers around the edge of Ronin’s waistband. "The us that we were when we first moved to Torchline shouldn’t be held against us," he says lightly, though there’s a flicker of something deeper behind his tone. "We were... grieving and displaced. I don’t think we smiled for more than five minutes at a time that first year." Not without it hurting, anyway.

But that version of them feels far away now, softened by time and distance and a great deal of effort to become who they are today. As Ronin pulls him in closer, Remi leans gratefully into it, letting his arm slide fully around the Knight’s back, hand settling warm and sure on his far hip. The affection that pulses out of him is golden, easy, sweeping warmly through every place their bodies touch.

"I hope you’re right," he murmurs, looking up into the high canopy as a breeze shivers through the leaves. The air smells green and deep and familiar, and for a moment, he closes his eyes just to let it settle. Then, with a lazy smile, he lifts his voice slightly, not loud, but enough to be heard by the woods themself. "If you are listening, by the way—we’re having a rather nice stroll. So if you’re in the mood to take the scenic route, I don’t mind."

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even my darkness shines for you

"I wholeheartedly agree," Ronin says with a firm nod, leaning in to press a quick smooch to Remi's cheek as if to punctuate the point with confirmation of how they're changed men now. "And besides, I'm pretty sure that bar - all of them, actually - would welcome us with open arms these days." If not because of their demigodly status or their service to the realm, then because their daughter is the queen. And you've gotta take those advantages where you can find them, in Ronin's view.

"Mm, I do have a habit of being right, you know," the Knight says with no small amount of mischief, grinning up at the canopy of trees as Remi's voice raises enough to address the Greatwood and its fickle mistress. (Not that he thinks the Mathair would have anything against his husband, or at least not in a way that's any different to the rest of the world). "I do love taking the scenic route with you," he agrees. It helps that there are no other people around on this particular scenic route, because it means he can grab Remi's ass without anyone seeing but the trees.

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi’s lips twitch into a grin as Ronin leans in and seals their shared agreement with a kiss to his cheek. "Mmhmm," he hums, feigning deep contemplation. "Though I’d be careful calling yourself right too often. You’ll give the trees ideas." A leaf drifts down from the canopy overhead as if in emphasis, brushing past his shoulder before catching gently in Ronin’s hair. Remi doesn’t point it out—he just leaves it there, glittering like some accidental coronation.

"Still, I suppose if we are banned from the bar, we can always claim it’s treason," he adds dryly, though there’s laughter in his voice. No doubt their daughter would probably happily have them invoke her name in such a way.

But his words lose their edge the moment Ronin’s hand grabs at him leaving the Bastion hissing in a breath of surprise followed by a scandalised, delighted laugh as he twists toward his husband. "Ronin," he hisses, though he doesn’t pull away in the slightest. "We’re in the middle of a sentient forest." Not that it’s ever stopped them before. Still, his voice lowers with exaggerated propriety. "Where are your manners?"

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"Ideas about what?" Ronin wants to know with a cheerful bark of laughter, the Knight raising his eyebrows up at the branches that curve overhead, the light that dapples through the leaves to hit them like warm, golden streamers. When there's no answer forthcoming - Ronin, alas, has never been the Greatwood Guardian, and he doesn't have the same sort of kinship with the forest as his husband and daughter - he glances back to Remi, oblivious to the leaf now caught in his dark hair.

"It would only be fair," he agrees, of claiming treason for being barred entry to a tavern. "I'm pretty sure Flora has used our names to get the things she wants for years, now. She probably still does, despite being queen." There's playful fondness in his voice as he speaks; for Ronin, if he can help their children even if only by reputation, it's help he's ready and willing to provide.

That sort of quiet joy is soon exchanged, of course, by boyish mischief, and as Remi scolds him (unsuccessfully, in the Knight's opinion), Ronin continues to prowl towards his husband with a broad grin on his face. "I left them at home," he says with a casual shrug. "I hope that's not a problem."

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i've hidden all my fears in a book for only my eyes to see

Remi lifts his brows with a knowing look that needs no words at all, his smirk all teeth and mischief. "Ideas about what," he parrots under his breath with fond exasperation, like he doesn’t know exactly what Ronin’s hands are capable of inspiring.

Still, the conversation shifts just enough to draw a chuckle from him, the sound wry but warm. "Mm. I wonder how many of our scales or feathers she still keeps tucked away for leverage when our names aren’t quite enough." He flashes a grin sideways before his expression softens for a moment, edges rounding with quiet pride. "I’d give her more if she asked." He pauses. "Mateo too, though I doubt he uses us quite the same way. He seems more likely to want to forge his own name than borrow ours."

But any sentiment that might’ve followed gets chased off by the glint in Ronin’s eye and the predatory way he moves. Remi tries to back away with a laugh, but there’s nowhere to go—the forest has ideas after all, and soon enough he finds himself caught between bark and mischief, Ronin all heat and sunlight before him.

Pinned with nowhere to run, Remi exhales a dramatically helpless sigh, the kind that belies the grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Oh no," he whispers, pressing one hand to Ronin’s chest like he might hold him off. "Whatever will I do." His voice dips low and teasing, eyes gleaming as he shoots his husband a playfully imploring look that he absolutely does not intend to do anything other than draw him further in.

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"Oh, plenty I'd wager," Ronin says with an easy laugh. "I've no doubt she steals a few more whenever she gets the chance, too. And I bet she's also got a stash of black dragonscale from when I was still pledged to Safrin, just in case she needs to offer a rare bribe." Never had he expected their shifts to be used as currency, but given how easy it is to provide scales and feathers, it's not as though he's complaining about it. And as for Mateo? "I'm not so sure about that. I bet he uses our name quite a bit up in Stormbreak, when it suits him."

However, like his husband, it's difficult to keep his mind out of the gutter when he's able to stalk through the woods towards him so easily - especially with Remi playing the part of prey as well. "Ah, those kind of ideas," he says as if he's finally realising what the trees might have to contribute to all of this, the Knight offering a grateful wink up to the canopy overhead. "I've got a few thoughts on the matter as well," he continues, closing the distance between them and seeming more than happy to trap Remi against one of the trunks.

Ronin's thoughts, of course, are ones he'd like to share directly with the Bastion via his lips, which explains why his mouth is suddenly on the other man's, an arm snaking around his waist and the other cupping his jaw. If anyone asks, it's a very important meeting of tongues minds.

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