i’m your preacher and you’re my god

I swear I still believe but I don't know

Remi disentangles himself, however briefly, and Ronin groans a note of frustration that has him half reaching to pull the Alchemist back to him. But he manages to contain himself - barely. Guided by his husband, the Star rolls to the side and finds Remi’s back against his chest; his hands hungrily seek out scarred flesh, fingers roaming down a torso he knows better than any map, greedily taking it all in.

With Remi pressed so tightly against him there’s no doubt in Ronin’s mind as to what completely means, and he’s already leant in close to graze his teeth over the Alchemist’s neck, lavishing kisses that will leave bruises by the morning. He’s on fire with it, with this man of a thousand contradictions; loving and hurting and caring and fleeing all rolled into a package tipped with claws and the greenest eyes he’s ever seen.

The sound of his name has him humming into the kiss he’s been marking against Remi’s shoulder, his hands pausing on their journey southward so he can shift his hips, using the Alchemist as leverage to position himself just so, breath stuttering in his chest. ”Gods I fucking love you,” he growls, thrusting forward to bury himself in liquid heat with a surprising amount of restraint. Slow, Remi had begged him once in the past, with his back pressed against a wagon. And Ronin had every intention of taking his sweet time now.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

Lips on his skin, Remi's fingers tangle up into Ronin's hair, his fingers spiderwebbing outwards. There isn't a thing Ronin could do which would hurt him now; the pressure of his lips and teeth are simply a different instrument in the symphony that swells between them. The low notes of hips and legs, the harmony of fingers and lips, the bright staccato of breaths and half-lidded eyes. Tomorrow their bodies will show the notations of the music being composed tonight. The arm on which Remi leans moves up, clawed-hands gripping the headboard for leverage as the rest of him comes untethered with the slow crawl of Ronin's hand down his body.

Selfish as Remi has allowed himself to become, desperate and hard as his cock is, the feeling of Ronin filling him is all that he craves. With feet tipped with claws scrambling against the sheets to somehow take more of Ronin, the hand tangled in the Star's hair stutters for a moment as Remi's senses entirely lurch and freeze. Sensations explode in a thousand different directions, the epicentre of which is the slow pressure created by Ronin's impossibly controlled movements. "I swear to all the gods, Ronin.." Remi hisses, the words both a praise and a curse.

From the bundle of nerves stroked by Ronin's cock comes a plume of pleasure that rises through the heat broiling in Remi's belly up into the back of his throat. It makes him want to laugh and scream all the same time. To bask in the slowness but also to grab whatever part of Ronin he can and force his hips to move.

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

With fingers in his hair and the thrum of a heartbeat against his hand, Ronin loses himself completely to this. The hand gliding down over Remi’s stomach finally reaches its destination, gripping the base of his cock and squeezing, as if to hold them both in place - not that it will do much good. Ronin is drowning and happily so, gripped by pleasure and the anticipation of more to come, if he would only end their torture. Panting unsteadily against his husband’s neck, his free hand comes up to grip Remi’s bicep as it claws at the headboard, grateful for the leverage.

A shaky laugh escapes his throat as the Alchemist’s words reach him, a faint and distant sound against the rain, tapering off into a moan as he finally gives in, finally rocks forward, thrusting deeper if possible. Heat explodes in him in response, Ronin hissing in his next breath and fighting against instinct. He knows that to go too quickly is to race to the finish line - and Ronin doesn’t want this to end. So he fucks Remi slowly, thoroughly, completely, his hand moving in tandem with his hips to lavish the Alchemist with as much attention as he’d been given earlier.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

There's something maddening about their combined strength, and that somehow it still isn't enough to pin down the pleasure they are both striving for. But it's the slow burn of Remi's muscles, the bulge of his bicep braced against Ronin's fingers, the weakness of his knees, that is explosive. Testosterone is one word for it. Utter perfection might be another.

Whatever attempts at hushed articulations the Alchemist had made thus far were thrown out the open window as Ronin's fingers closed around the base of his cock. Moaning loudly and arching himself up to press the side of his cheek against Ronin's, Remi's lips wrapped around his husband's name over and over again in breathless encouragement. As the Star's hips matched the pulse of his hand, Remi's fingers dug hard enough into the wood of the headboard to splinter it, his fist thumping it against the wall as his body followed the pace set by the Star.

The build of Remi's orgasm starts in the base of his spine, tugged at by invisible strings attached to his husband's driving cock. The song is next picked up (surprisingly) in the balls of his feet, where whispers of the same melody echo as faint as the rain outside. Unknowingly the Alchemist curls his toes against the too-faint sensation, but it has no effect. Behind his sternum the rhythm expands, filling his lungs in a way reminiscent of his wings unfurling. Next the feeling falls to his inner thighs as they burn. Finally, his orgasm resonates up to the back of his throat where it parts his lips and stifles his breath.

"Ronin!" He moans almost frantically, as the feeling drops down to the base of his cock and the bundle of nerves so expertly riled by his husband.

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

Gods, it’s bliss. Ronin savours it, every moan that forms on Remi’s lips, every breath spent on the Star’s name, the other man’s accent wrapping exquisitely around it. He doesn’t try to hide his own enjoyment either; each thrust draws a groan of pleasure, Ronin’s fingers clutching desperately around Remi’s arm, driving himself deeper, filling him more and setting off fireworks behind his eyes.

The storm is roaring and fuck if Remi isn’t singing to it, Ronin lost in the buck and sway of their melody. His husband is taut like a bowstring, one that he plays expertly, even with the telltale pressure starting to build at the base of his spine. But fuck, Ronin doesn’t want to stop any of this; he doesn’t want to give this moment up, having Remi in his arms moaning into the night, with nothing but the sweat beading on their bodies and the fever heat of sex between them.

But it has to end, unless they find a way to ride this infinitely, and unfortunately Ronin hasn’t discovered that particular skill yet. ”Fuck,” he whispers, the pull of his orgasm starting to throb through the length of his cock, like a spring ready to snap at any moment. His control begins to slip, his thrusts growing more frantic, more needy, and he presses his lips against Remi’s ear. ”Cum for me,” he demands, as if Remi’s release gives him permission for his own.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

The pain and pressure of Ronin's fingers digging into his arm don't register as such. Instead his mind lapses into hazy bliss to feel yet another place they are connected and held together as one. If his pleasure wasn't so intense, the Alchemist might have actually lost himself quite literally inside of Ronin: his soul slipping out of his body to fit neatly around his husband's. A sensible mind would have known that that would leave Ronin to fuck a soulless husk, which all things considered would be a bad idea. What Remi's mind knew was that it felt too good to do anything but cling desperately to the feeling and let it drown him in oblivion.

When exactly the rain that coated them became sweat Remi can't say. All he knows now is the feel of delicious brightness on his skin from the chill in the air on his lower back as Ronin's hips release if only to drive forward again. If he could, he would have turned to capture his husband's lips in a silent soliloquy of praise, to connect them in yet another place. But with his body as tense as it was, the cusp of his orgasm rendered his limbs unresponsive save for achieving one end.

There is no coming back from the sound of Ronin's words against his ear. Despite Remi's firm grip on the headboard and his arm tethering him to his husband, he's lost and drowning; falling forever into the gaping mouth of his orgasm that slips around him like a second skin. His knuckles slam against the wall as he finally does cum, the headboard groaning as its pushed past its structural limits.

"Gods, have me." Remi moans from his fall into the delicious madness of Ronin. Reaching idly for Ronin's hand, no longer needed on his shivering cock, he brings it up to his lips and presses the Star's fingers against his tongue, his teeth biting down as his hips thrust back against the Star's.

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

Ronin needs this more than he can say, his body expressing it for him in the way their bodies meet, in the fire brewing in their blood, in the chill that caresses all the places they aren’t touching and in the echoing thrum of the headboard. Remi’s words are a poison and antidote in one, pushing the Star over the edge - he’s fevered with it now, fit to burst, fucking with wild abandon and aware, deliciously, of the way the other man seizes around him.

Have me, Remi moans, and Ronin doesn’t hesitate; he cums only a moment after his husband, arching against him with a rough groan against the crook of his neck. White static clouds any higher functions, leaving him in free fall, and the only thing that matters is this, is Remi’s teeth and tongue upon his fingers and the rest shuddering around him. Ronin’s orgasm rides through him, up the backs of thighs and through his hips, leaving him panting and completely, utterly spent.

It’s with numb fingers that he releases Remi’s bicep, aware that it will probably bruise but it feels like a distant thing right now. With a hand free, his arm curls around the other man’s chest and draws him back, his palm flat against a starburst scar to feel their hearts thunder as one. ”Fuck,” he whispers into Remi’s shoulder. ”Fuck. Don’t you move. Not an inch. Don’t you dare.” It’s over too soon, but that doesn’t mean Ronin can’t still savour every last bit of this, having missed it enough to be mad with it.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

He can feel Ronin cum, his senses scattered by the ripples of it: the hitch of breath by his ear, the scrape of stubble against his cheek, the flinch of fingers in his mouth, legs twitching against his own. It was only a second that they felt apart—Remi twisted into the sweet and devastating pull of his own orgasm that pulled him nearly out of consciousness—but now shuddering and breathless, they were in sync again in their exhaustion.

That Remi has anywhere to go or any want of it make him grin stupidly against Ronin's fingers as he releases them from between his teeth, pressing a kiss to red knuckles. "I'd like to see you try and stop me." The Alchemist replies, not that he's in any position to contest Ronin's orders at this point. His muscles feel both light and heavy; spent, but entirely in service of what they were made for such that satisfaction supersedes the fatigue waiting to build up.

Heart thudding still, the drum of it felt below the scar tissue upon which Ronin's hand rests, Remi's fingers tangle thereupon as he tilts his head back to lean it against the Star's shoulder. If there are voices in the hall asking about the noise, Remi doesn't hear them. All he can hear is the sound of his own breath as he tries to catch it, the feeling of Ronin all around him entirely disorienting.

"It hasn't been like that in a long time." Remi marvels, sounding both smug and grateful.

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

”I’d like to see that too, because I’m not fit for much right now,” Ronin says through a breathless, airy chuckle, his words murmured sweetly against Remi’s shoulder, tasting salt and rain and heat in his skin. It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but it has felt like a lifetime and then some. More than Longnight has separated them for a long time, not reducing love and lust at all, instead wedging itself between their intimacy.

But Ronin is serious about his promise at the lighthouse - he will not look over his shoulder at his past any longer, regardless of the outcome of Safrin’s attempts to pull Vanya from the stars. His present is in his arms, flush against him; Remi is a force that is so powerful and yet at the same time infinitely fragile, and the world will have to get through Ronin to come anywhere near it.

Still panting for breath, Ronin happily sacrifices some of that recovery to press gentle kisses to the Alchemist’s stubbled cheek, head tilting to rest against a crown of wet curls. ”It hasn’t. Count on it from now on,” he says, a smile on his lips that just won’t leave. Remi releases his hand and the Star lets it ghost along his husband’s side, taking its time exploring nicks and scars and the contours of his body.

”You are perfect,” he whispers, eyes closing for a moment to try to burn this into his memories.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

The smile on Remi's face dimples his cheeks deeply and keeps him from saying anything for a long few moments. Words have never particularly been his strong suit, and in the aftermath of the words writ in blemishes and bites on their bodies, he can't think of a single thing to add despite how he desperately wants to.

"Well if that's the case, now that I have my magic back I'll soundproof our room." Remi chuckles, the words made buoyant by his smile as much as his accent. What the words really mean though, is that the Alchemist vows to be present as well. Though the likes of Vai and Finn have made him question his choices and goals in life recently, it's Ronin's arms around him and the promise of their future together that steels his resolve against settling for a meaningless existence.

He can't live just for Ronin. But he can live with him. At this side, rather than as a shadow. Remi loves the Star too much to give him anything less than everything he is, and in this moment with life slowly returning to his limbs, he thinks perhaps he can regain a little bit of what has been lost, if only so that there is more of him on offer for the Star.

Shivering beneath the light touch of Ronin's finger, Remi disentangles himself if only so that he can face his husband, his arm draped lazily across his chest with his hand near Ronin's shoulder. "What I am—" He counters, reaching up to press a kiss on the Star's jaw. "—is yours."

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

”My wise, wise husband,” Ronin murmurs through a quiet rumble of a laugh, the idea of soundproofing the room a very good one indeed. The storm lashes against the cottage outside, the hush and tap of the rain interspersed with howls of wind that border on the violent, with flashes of light and purring thunder. Ronin settles into it, the music a great deal less interesting than the previous melody in the room, but it’s a welcome lull that he can sink into, wrapped so effortlessly around his husband as he is.

Humming a sound of pliant protest, he blinks at Remi as he untangles himself only to relax back into the pillows as he realises the cause for the adjustment. An arm laces around the small of his back, Ronin drawing the Alchemist close enough that they’ll both need to clean up eventually, not that he cares one single iota. His words sound like magic, the Star sighing into them and smiling again, boyish and flushed to hear them.

Reaching with his free hand to caress Remi’s cheek, he takes note of all he finds there; marks of laughter and stress and fatigue and fear. Ronin leans in, warm lips pressing to his husband’s forehead. ”Mine?” he repeats. ”There’s no luckier man in Caido. I’ll be sure to keep you with me, make sure you don’t get lost anywhere.” He doesn’t need to say it back, he doesn’t think; Ronin has been Remi’s from the moment he fell back from the stars, as if the heavens had returned him specifically for the Alchemist to love.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

Remi leans into the touch against his cheek, his eyes settling into the blue depths that meet them. Gods how brilliantly handsome Ronin is, and not simply for the reasons most would think of first. He is all of those things of course, the list that begins with handsome, charming, and ends with devilishly witty; but it's so much more than that. It's how his hands are calloused and attuned to nearly anything asked of them, but still so soft and careful. That his lips can spit curses just as quickly as apologies, and despite how sunburnt they've become, still taste just as sweet as ever. That his eyes are worthy of drowning in yes, but that at depths rarely seen, they also have the power to save. Remi has lost count of the number of times he's drowned and been saved now by those blue eyes.

By Ronin.

"I can think of one." Remi hums back softly, adoringly, before grinning. Sweeping his fingertips through the dark pathways of hair and silvered-scars that marbled his husband's chest, Remi smirks to himself. "Mayhap if I ever get another shift it will be something pocket-sized. Like a raccoon, but smaller. A..." Scrunching his nose slightly before turning his gaze back to Ronin with a look of mischief, he suggests: "..chipmunk, maybe." Not one of his best jokes (was it even really a joke? it seems like the sort of thing he'd do), but it hardly mattered because the punchline was clear: I will go to stupid lengths to stay close to you, forever and always.

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie

I swear I still believe but I don't know

Settling bonelessly into their bed now, too content and tired to try and wrangle the blankets around them, Ronin merely gathers Remi close. His hands are always on the Alchemist, teasing a tangle out of his curls, carefully stroking down the back of his neck, drifting across the planes of his shoulder blades and walking the length of his spine. The sigh that leaves him is sleepy and blissful, though he’s in no rush to drift off as he tilts his head to rest it atop Remi’s, relishing the fingers that dance over his chest.

”A chipmunk?” he repeats, his grin audible. ”Maybe. Or perhaps a little mouse. Or a polecat. I’ll wear you as a scarf - Sugar will just have to be jealous.” Kissing his husband’s hair, Ronin only gives a knowing smile at his counter to being quite so lucky. They would just have to agree to disagree on that, and the Star is happy to do so. ”Or maybe I’ll get another shift. I wouldn’t be adverse to riding around in your pocket, sneaking up your sleeves and getting under your collar.” He chuckles at the thought.

the dark star

wild in the silence; no way to make it right

"Sugar will be hungry." Remi says of that idea with a grunt of amusement, though he does absolutely like the idea of being slung around Ronin's neck. Especially on hot days where his presence will be a burden and he'll cause rivers of sweat to run down his husband's spine. It's worth the risk of being devoured by a dragon, surely.

"Is that a banana in your pocket Remi, or are you just happy to see me?" I'll be asked, Remi murmurs, his smile bright. "Why no, it's actually my husband." So saying the Alchemist turns his cheek into the Star, lips brushing against collar bones before reaching his neck. Kissing his way up Ronin's jawline and imagining himself with scurrying feet that would be sure to tickle on such sensitive skin, Remi presses himself up on one arm to stare down at Ronin, caring not at all for the stickiness lingering between them.

"I am so very, very in love with you." He says, the words not quite a whisper, but merely carried along on his exhale. "And I know what you'll say, but I wish I had the words to tell you how much."

THE ALCHEMIST

i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie