the things we hold are always the first to go
Snorting, Ronin grins into Remi’s hair, utterly content in his arms. ”If you like. I meant more by bringing you tea, giving you shoulder rubs, reminding you to sleep when you get too wrapped up in things in that way you do.” The affection in his voice isn’t something he tries to hide, Ronin reaching up to let his fingers dance over Remi’s cheek, following the strong line of his jaw.
And it might surprise the Alchemist, that as this surprise about Ianto comes tumbling out, the Star doesn’t stiffen or tense one bit, other than to furrow his brow as he stares out into the rain. ”You’re telling me he’s out there right now, in a wagon?” he asks, having to speak a little louder over a sudden blast of wind and rain, his hand drifting down to cover Remi’s.
Kissing his temple, Ronin gives his hand a squeeze. ”Do you want to fetch him, or shall I?” he asks quietly. ”I’ll not see anyone outside in this. We’ll find a space for him to sleep. Did you not want to tell me...?”
And it might surprise the Alchemist, that as this surprise about Ianto comes tumbling out, the Star doesn’t stiffen or tense one bit, other than to furrow his brow as he stares out into the rain. ”You’re telling me he’s out there right now, in a wagon?” he asks, having to speak a little louder over a sudden blast of wind and rain, his hand drifting down to cover Remi’s.
Kissing his temple, Ronin gives his hand a squeeze. ”Do you want to fetch him, or shall I?” he asks quietly. ”I’ll not see anyone outside in this. We’ll find a space for him to sleep. Did you not want to tell me...?”
