REMI
None of this is meant to last. Not the need to kill. Not the demand for satisfaction. So it is that rather than keeping his movements slow and controlled, the alchemist's hips rock back and forth without so much as a thought about stamina; neither his or Ronin's.
This was not careful and controlled. This was the blissful pain that comes from scratching a mosquito bite until it bleeds, and the satisfaction that comes with blood-covered fingers having annihilated the itch. The dirt beneath his claws, the cold smear of soil against his side, and the heat of Ronin's body—still covered in a sheen of sweat and adrenaline and fear—is the perfect precipice off of which the Lullaby lets himself fall entirely. He doesn't warn Ronin as he usually does, instead letting the tension in his hands and the feral moans that leave his throat be the gauge by which Ronin might attune himself to.
As the alchemist cums, his fingers and limbs twisting possessively around the Star, curling his body to completely fit against Ronin's, it is entirely without the sweetness and love that normally accompanies his climax. This was sex for the sake of sex, his orgasm achieved via a sprint, and thus was appropriately short-lived.
Though Remi's grip doesn't loosen around his husband, it does significantly change. The teeth and rough tongue against Ronin's neck become a flutter of soft kisses, the hand around the huntsman's chest relaxes, and Remi's lower half untangles around Ronin's legs that the Lullaby might stay the big spoon. "I suppose I can see why you like to run on your own." Remi chuckles after a moment, sounding bashfully apologetic.
This was not careful and controlled. This was the blissful pain that comes from scratching a mosquito bite until it bleeds, and the satisfaction that comes with blood-covered fingers having annihilated the itch. The dirt beneath his claws, the cold smear of soil against his side, and the heat of Ronin's body—still covered in a sheen of sweat and adrenaline and fear—is the perfect precipice off of which the Lullaby lets himself fall entirely. He doesn't warn Ronin as he usually does, instead letting the tension in his hands and the feral moans that leave his throat be the gauge by which Ronin might attune himself to.
As the alchemist cums, his fingers and limbs twisting possessively around the Star, curling his body to completely fit against Ronin's, it is entirely without the sweetness and love that normally accompanies his climax. This was sex for the sake of sex, his orgasm achieved via a sprint, and thus was appropriately short-lived.
Though Remi's grip doesn't loosen around his husband, it does significantly change. The teeth and rough tongue against Ronin's neck become a flutter of soft kisses, the hand around the huntsman's chest relaxes, and Remi's lower half untangles around Ronin's legs that the Lullaby might stay the big spoon. "I suppose I can see why you like to run on your own." Remi chuckles after a moment, sounding bashfully apologetic.
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
