the things we hold are always the first to go
Ronin would have offered his services in assisting Remi, had he not been the one apparently causing the issue in the first place. As the alchemist's cheeks flushed, he managed a very filthy smile indeed, about to utter a retort - make me - when Remi went and did just that. A moan - half protest, half acceptance - thrummed up in his throat as Remi pulled him down closer, Ronin bracing one arm above the other man to keep from toppling onto him completely, even as his lips and tongue danced over Remi's.
"You shut up," he managed through a breathy laugh, just to get the last word in, before he began to really, actually realise whose hands were upon him, whose lips, whose taste. Humming appreciatively against the other man's neck, his mouth having explored its way there a moment or so ago, Ronin let his free hand whisper down Remi's side to his hips, guiding them up so he could grind against them more readily.
"You shut up," he managed through a breathy laugh, just to get the last word in, before he began to really, actually realise whose hands were upon him, whose lips, whose taste. Humming appreciatively against the other man's neck, his mouth having explored its way there a moment or so ago, Ronin let his free hand whisper down Remi's side to his hips, guiding them up so he could grind against them more readily.
