there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory
"Everything?" Ronin's voice is almost a whisper, the Star tilting his chin up a bit to better see his husband, crowned as he is by his antlers. He hadn't really believed it would be everything, especially not the bright hands printing patterns onto white picket fences. Inhaling a shuddering breath, he can't stop his hips from arching up against his husband, not when his name hits the air in that tone.
They are in a mudpatch near a tarpit in the middle of the swamp, and it is absolutely the wrong time and place to be feeling so turned on, and yet Ronin absolutely doesn't care. "Have me," he urges Remi, his smile just a little bit wicked, a little bit daring. And it takes very little effort to lean in and close the distance within them, the Star moaning his encouragement into the kiss.
They are in a mudpatch near a tarpit in the middle of the swamp, and it is absolutely the wrong time and place to be feeling so turned on, and yet Ronin absolutely doesn't care. "Have me," he urges Remi, his smile just a little bit wicked, a little bit daring. And it takes very little effort to lean in and close the distance within them, the Star moaning his encouragement into the kiss.
RONIN
