long shadows

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Yes I fucking do, Ronin wants to say, forcing his eyes shut because honestly, no amount of lewd imagery he might come up with can compare to the look and feel of the other man next to him. Instead he stutters in a breath and a shiver works its way down his spine, the feathers that coat his shoulders ruffling their frustration. Remi is right in his assumptions, the Huntsman gripping his husband's hip and growling softly against the lips that press against the shell of his ear. He's just about hanging on, in fact, when Remi starts to speak, and the alchemist will find his husband not nearly as able to tolerate his teasing as usual. Ronin blames the season, but in reality it's all on his husband. His hand leaves the wraithlike fingers against his pants to roughly shove the table back a couple of inches. It's enough that he can turn properly towards Remi and lean in to stifle any further words with a hungry kiss, moaning into his mouth and pulling him closer.