walk me to the knife edge

we live in a world someone else imagined

”Remi can you not—” The words slip between Ronin’s lips, his concentration lapsing as he fights to make sure the encantados file their way out of the net. He has no idea which one is his husband, a fact that does not settle the thundering in his chest any, and when the other man finally, finally gasps for air, he won’t have to go far to find Ronin. The Star’s arms fold around him, careful not to hold him too tight in case he crushes the air out of him, but hard enough.

”Mm,” he agrees, his cheek pressed to Remi’s wet curls, his fingers wanting to pat at his back as if to help cough up water that isn’t there; he settles instead on simply letting his fingers stroke gently down the length of his spine, relishing the realness of him in that moment. ”It’s also why if I find the person who did that, they’ll be the one caught up in it next time,” he mutters, kissing Remi’s hair and inhaling a deep and relieved breath. ”We did it, though.”

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Crush away, Remi's embrace suggests, as he clings to his husband's arm and fights to regain his breath. It's a strange thing indeed, to be winded upon a cloud, your salty-wet husband holding you close as you watch a pod of encantados o(of which you were previously one), dart off toward a horizon you can't see.

"Upside down. Over something sharp." The Alchemist agrees with an unsteady smile as he turns to gaze up at Ronin. "No, I think you did it. I just flopped around." With a menacing smile, Remi reaches up to cup a hand on Ronin's cheek, relishing the thunder-slick beat of the huntsman's heart on his finger and the vivacity of emotion coursing into him. "You feel ... incredible." The words are mumbled as Remi shifts to his knees, both hands on Ronin's cheeks now.

"You are incredible." The day that Remi becomes tired of saying such things to Ronin—the day he stops feeling them—seems impossible. It makes laughable the lusty thoughts of other men which had once plagued him so.

It's you, for me. And gods if that wasn't the truest thing he knew.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

Ronin leans into the touch, head turning to press a kiss to the inside of Remi’s wrist, and he’s already reaching out for his husband as he shifts to his knees, all but pulling him into his lap. They’re both naked, soaking wet, hearts hammering, but there’s no place he’d rather be. ”Everything I am, I couldn’t be without you,” he whispers, his heart all but roaring with love.

Which probably explains why he’s already leaning in close, planning to steal Remi’s breath all over again as the rain lashes down around them, his nimbus listing towards the shore. Calloused hands run along Remi’s bare thighs, Ronin moaning into his mouth and seeming oblivious to the chaos raging around them.

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Naked as the day they came into the world, surrounded by lightning and the purr of thunder which threatens to unseat them at any moment, still there is nowhere Remi would rather be. Nowhere he feels more comfortable. "Gods, how I must be dragging you down if that's the case." Remi's smile makes the words clumsily said, and he has to inhale against the inappropriate laughter he feels rising in the back of his throat.

There is more sarcasm to be had, but Ronin's lips are chasing away the words and gods if Remi isn't absolutely happy to let him. Connected like this such that there is almost no part of Ronin that Remi doesn't have access to, to say he is overwhelmed by Ronin is an understatement. This isn't like being knocked down by a wave when your back is the sea and you aren't paying attention; this is like being dragged down to the very heart of the ocean with no need to breathe and yet gasping for air just the same. Though Remi had been Ronin's rock when he needs it, gods if he wouldn't happily drown in this.

Perfect moments for the Alchemist are dangerous things nowadays. They fester in his bones, inviting him to linger in them longer than he should. Just now, a hand tangled in Ronin's hair while the other grasps low on the huntsman's hip, Remi has all but forgotten to breathe, sipping air only when absolutely necessary. Do'you....feel..better? He doesn't form the words with his lips, busy as they are, and to say his mental voice is distracted is laughable.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

If he weren’t so otherwise engaged, Ronin might have chastised his husband for his self-deprecation. But then again maybe he doesn’t need to say it with words - he’s pulling Remi closer, fingers pressing into the small of his back, his free hand cupping the other man’s cheek as if to keep him desperately close. The nimbus drifts to a standstill where they foolishly decided to strip off all their clothes, but Ronin doesn’t notice or care. The murmured words filter through their Attuned bond enough for the huntsman to grin, nipping gently at Remi’s lower lip and drawing back enough to pant a few quick breaths.

He can’t lie to Remi, not as entangled as they are, so he’ll feel it all - the cresting wave of relief, bright and so much more than when he had been at the lighthouse, and the dark riptide that drags at him underneath, reminding him of all that’s been lost. And still a thread of golden delight that pulls through it all, anchoring him to the man in his lap. ”I don’t feel good. But I feel better,” he says, the words all but mumbled against Remi’s lips. He wants to lean off the nimbus to grab their clothes that they might be able to go home, but that involves letting go of the alchemist, and his hands and mouth are too busy for that.

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Distantly, in some small abstract part of the Alchemist's mind that isn't wholly transfixed by the here and now, Remi wonders how different Ronin might be with a predatory shift. It's the huntsman's teeth against Remi's lower lip that trigger the thought, for deep down the Alchemist knows it isn't followed by a carnal plume of raw need that demands blood or the feeling of flesh yielding beneath strong fingers. Is it good that Ronin doesn't have this side? Might it be better for them both? Worse? But he hasn't the mind to think such things, tangled as they are, and quickly the thought is thrown away.

"Wisely said." Remi whispers back, before looking sidelong off the cloud to where their clothes are haphazardly scattered. "What do you reckon the penalty for littering is?" He wonders. Though Remi has no intention of repeating their surely we can work this out, officer routine from a few nights before, but still, it's rather entertaining to him that despite being two of the most powerful men in Torchline, still, they're beholden to certain silly rules.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

Ronin leans his head against Remi’s, following his gaze to the piles of clothes and letting his fingers dance down the length of his husband’s spine. He relishes the heat that kindles between them, warming away the chill from the sea and the storm, and he shrugs his shoulders. ”You’re the governor, you get to decide,” he reasons. ”Besides, I reckon in a couple hours the tide will take them away. I’m willing to lose a coat if it means not letting you go.”

As long as Remi has no other objections, Ronin will urge the nimbus up and away from the shoreline. His emotions are calming, settling a little more as they leave the choppy waves behind, though his heartbeat still stutters at the sight of home in the distance. A reminder that Seren is gone. ”It’s just us again,” he murmurs.

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

The chill of the storm only makes the warmth that slinks from thigh to thigh and from fingertip to spine all the more enticing. Shivering slightly, Remi's solution to the wind and the rain is simply to have more of Ronin, and the Star seems more than willing to comply. "I'm glad I'm at least worth a coat." The Alchemist says as he brushes his nose against Ronin's.

With no objections to be had, they rise as if the world is simply theirs to leave when they choose. Though he has no fear of heights Remi prefers to keep his eyes trained on the man he shares a cloud with, rather than their house which has become a dull speck of light in the graying haze of the storm.

"It has been for a while." Solemnly said, Remi tries on a smile before letting it fall away. Reaching up to brush a bit of wind-styled hair from the Star's eyes, the Alchemist lets his head loll to the side slightly. With Seren ageing as she had and with Safrin whispering independence in her ear from the very first day, the bright-eyed child who had once been about games and playing had quickly been replaced with a teenager who longed for closed bedroom doors and secret conversations. "I had thought...once, to talk about having another child." Since that other thread is gone now and the conversation didn't happen, "..but after this? I think even if Safrin came down with the means to it on a silver platter, I'd not accept." Shoulders slumping somewhat, the Alchemist offers his partner a weary shrug.

She couldn't be trusted.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

”Not my nicest coat. Just that one,” Ronin corrects with a smile, and though his eyes remain on the dark windows of the house that are growing closer all the time, his mind focuses on all the warm places where they touch, on Remi’s fingers brushing through his hair. He gazes across at his husband when he speaks, nodding sadly in agreement and directing the nimbus up to their always open window.

Turning his head to kiss Remi’s fingertips, the Star freezes at the words he’s never expected to hear from his husband. Not again, never again, not after Aoife. His brow furrows, and though the emotions are complicated - and unhidden from the Alchemist, a thorny roll of surprise and hope and fear - Ronin doesn’t pull away. ”Really? I mean - I agree - those things always come with strings attached. But... I didn’t realise you felt that way.”

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

"Everyone has their price." Remi says with an adoring smile, waiting until the world had more texture again as they neared familiarity.

That he can feel the slow roll of Ronin's uncertainty doesn't instil much confidence in the Alchemist, but nor is it wholly unexpected. "I don't know that I do. All I know is that I don't, if that makes any sense." It didn't, not even to his own ears. Scrubbing his fingers through his curls as he reaches out for the window that he might tug his husband in out of the rain and tumble them both into bed. "I haven't said anything because I wasn't sure that it wasn't some strange act of rebellion against Safrin." Safrin who could just show up with a child and change Ronin's life in such a way that only the Alchemist should have been capable.

"But now with Seren gone..." He'd intentionally not been the girl's father. Of that he'd been quite clear. But she'd filled a space in his heart which would have otherwise grown over; perhaps he was merely feeling her absence all the more keenly for that. All of this washed through their bond, communicating better than words could.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

That’s the beauty of it, at least - Ronin won’t, can’t lie to Remi, and reality is rarely as black or white as words can sometimes be. He climbs through the window after his husband, dismissing the nimbus and snagging a towel hanging conveniently on the floor (duh) so he can dry himself off and snag the Alchemist to rub at his curls before they collapse into bed.

”I...” It’s a false start, and Ronin makes himself wait until feelings and thoughts can properly form into words. Eventually he smiles, his hand slipping around the small of Remi’s back so he can press him close. ”I understand,” he whispers - and he does. The trepidation, the hesitance, the need to not be on purpose. Leaning in, he kisses the scruff of Remi’s cheek.

”I’m glad you told me,” I says. ”I think... I am just afraid, now. I’ve had two daughters, and I’ve lost them both. But...” But neither had been Remi’s flesh and blood. Neither had inherited his eyes, his dimples, his Cupid’s bow lips. ”...I would be a liar to say never.”

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

Like the monstrous man-child that he could often be, the Alchemist wordlessly protests the drying off that Ronin offers, preferring instead to dampen their sheets with his writhing and deal with it later. Difficult as he might be about this, he's utterly pliant in Ronin's fingers as the huntsman draws him close, sinking into the colourful array of his husband's emotions as deeply as he does to their bed.

"This...isn't me asking us to have that conversation." Remi clarifies carefully. "Just...A thing I've been wondering at, from time to time." If it is a conversation he wants to bring up, it won't be started by a few mumbled words, naked, on a nimbus during a monsoon. (Actually, it very likely might be just like that, but even so, it will at least be a touch more intentional. Probably.).

"Promise me whatever we decide to do though, it will be our choice. Together." He doesn't need to ask this of course, already knowing the answer. But he wants to hear it, just as he wants to hear Ronin tell him he loves him until the end of their days.

THE ALCHEMIST

we live in a world someone else imagined

”Stop being such an animal,” Ronin protests warmly, not meaning a single word of it and tossing the towel away when Remi’s curls were less soaking-fucking-wet than before. Pulling the Alchemist close, he lets them nestle deeply into the blankets, drawing Remi back against his chest. ”I know. I’m just... happy to be kept in the loop. I can’t do anything if I don’t know about it.” He nudges him playfully.

Grip tightening at the promise his husband asks of him, Ronin nods and presses kiss after kiss along the slope of Remi’s shoulder, being sure to rub his unshaven cheek annoyingly along bare skin. ”I promise,” he vows. ”We decide together, whatever the choice may be. You and me.” Another kiss, followed by a long sigh. ”Thank you, for coming out to the beach with me. I needed it.”

the dark star

you trace my lines, stirring my soul

"You knew what I was when you married me." Remi grunts, snapping his teeth haughtily. "What a blueblood thing to say, anyway." He adds as if Ronin's protests have more to do with Remi's lot in life as a shape-change than his antics.

"You can't?" He wonders, happy to twist Ronin's words despite the seriousness of their topic. Humming a note of utmost relaxation and affection despite the roughness of Ronin's cheek against his shoulder, the Alchemist twists his head to try and gaze down at the man whose lips were slowly marching along his skin.

"Mmm. Maybe we ought to...plan a hunting trip or something once this storm lets up. Or we could just bring some manta stones and go find some ghost whales to hunt. You seem like you could use more than just a bit of swimming." Ronin might be sea-weary now, but the Alchemist has a sneaking suspicion that they haven't even scraped the surface yet of what the Star properly needs.

THE ALCHEMIST