this is me trying

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving I told you I'll always forgive you, Ronin wants to say. Or maybe be careful of the glass, or the ever idiotic but what about coffee? And yet as his husband crosses the room in such an easy stride, anything the Star has to say bleeds away into a soft moan as their lips meet - as they finally bridge the gap that has been yawning between them for weeks, he realises. His arms fold around the Lullaby not in desperation, but as if to welcome him home, and their bodies align together so perfectly that it's almost too much then and there. Ronin lets himself drown in it, his hands pressing across his husband's ribcage and down to his hips as if to map the feeling of every scar and freckle. And rather than being in a hurry, his passion is slow and thorough but no less needy for it; his tongue presses against Remi's as if to enjoy the taste of him for the first time, again and again and again. Perhaps it's no surprise that he can't be the one to come up for air; Remi's lips are the perfect thing for Ronin to whisper confessions against, soft and rough all at the same time, promising damnation and salvation both.