I swear I still believe but I don't know
They’re already moving, the rain stinging against Ronin’s skin as the downpour grows more harsh, as lightning flashes and thunder rolls across the sky. It’s the perfect sort of weather to swallow up other sounds, like moans of ecstasy and gasps of pleasure, and the Star gazes up at his husband as if he hasn’t seen him in centuries. He reaches up, a hand snaking between them so he can smooth wet curls out of Remi’s face, his breath leaving in a shuddering sigh at the whispered voice on the wind.
”We’re here,” he says absently, reaching out without breaking Remi’s stare to fumble open the window they’d conveniently paused next to. Leaning up, as if to encourage Remi to sidle into the bedroom, he nuzzles against his husband’s cheek. ”Have me,” he whispers, his voice gruff with need, made more raw by the chaos of the storm.
”We’re here,” he says absently, reaching out without breaking Remi’s stare to fumble open the window they’d conveniently paused next to. Leaning up, as if to encourage Remi to sidle into the bedroom, he nuzzles against his husband’s cheek. ”Have me,” he whispers, his voice gruff with need, made more raw by the chaos of the storm.
the dark star
