RONIN
the darkstar
”If that were true, I’d never let you put your tongue in half the places it ends up,” Ronin informs his husband, and the heat he can see flushing across Remi’s cheeks is enough for him to hide away the partial shift with a self-deprecating little smile. It’s uncomfortable, but so is this conversation. ”I love you so much, but please don’t think of licking my antlers too hard.” He scoffs, rolling his shoulders and turning to sit on the bottom step of the wagon.
”Gods are off limits,” he quips, raising his eyebrows in a warning. ”You know that if Ludo whispered in your ear that we have to stay in Torchline for an extra season because there are souls to collect, that’s what we’d be doing. Less of the sass.” Because it’s screamingly obvious that Remi holds a boiling sort of hatred for his goddess, but more often than not, Ronin is the recipient of that ire.
”Why would Amalia stop me? Why would Sunjata? We’ve had conversations about both of them before - and I told you I don’t see Jata that way, especially not now. Is everything okay? I’m getting the distinct impression that I’ve done something wrong, here.”
”Gods are off limits,” he quips, raising his eyebrows in a warning. ”You know that if Ludo whispered in your ear that we have to stay in Torchline for an extra season because there are souls to collect, that’s what we’d be doing. Less of the sass.” Because it’s screamingly obvious that Remi holds a boiling sort of hatred for his goddess, but more often than not, Ronin is the recipient of that ire.
”Why would Amalia stop me? Why would Sunjata? We’ve had conversations about both of them before - and I told you I don’t see Jata that way, especially not now. Is everything okay? I’m getting the distinct impression that I’ve done something wrong, here.”
