I swear I still believe but I don't know
”Cocky is one word for it,” Ronin murmurs against the shell of Remi’s ear, the hand on his cheek drifting down the side of his neck to slip beneath the collar of his shirt, just about. He closes his eyes, needing to stand in it for just a second, to enjoy every breath of his husband, the heat of the fingers against his skin, the heartbeat fluttering through his wedding band. Already he can feel heat beginning to stir low in his belly, wanting to pull Remi more firmly against him, wanting to taste him, wanting to explore his body like he’s never seen it before.
But they are in Safrin’s shrine, and so it’s with an audible grumble of reluctance that Ronin draws back enough to brush his nose against Remi’s, blue eyes smouldering in the pulse of starlight between them. ”Your memory is terrible,” he agrees, the words a playful growl as he parts from the other man and begins to descend the steps. ”I’ll have to make sure this reminder is a good one.”
But they are in Safrin’s shrine, and so it’s with an audible grumble of reluctance that Ronin draws back enough to brush his nose against Remi’s, blue eyes smouldering in the pulse of starlight between them. ”Your memory is terrible,” he agrees, the words a playful growl as he parts from the other man and begins to descend the steps. ”I’ll have to make sure this reminder is a good one.”
the dark star
