RONIN
Ronin's grumbling might seem more like pleasurable moans after a while, given that his husband is relentless in keeping him close and extracting kisses from his lips. He at least remembers to keep hold of the flask as he loops his free arm around Remi, and he leans in for one last taste of the Lullaby after he's released. "I love you too," he whispers in return, stepping back with a shuddering inhale and rolling his shoulders.
Feathers promptly ripple down his neck and his spine, and his coat and scarf bleed away once more into dark, tight leather. Ronin's cheeks are flushed with cold, with kisses and now with the beginnings of toasty warmth, and he offers a sunny smile to his husband as he hands him the flask and takes up the harness to drag the sled along with them.
"You could have written our names in the snow. Or built a snowman," he suggests.
Feathers promptly ripple down his neck and his spine, and his coat and scarf bleed away once more into dark, tight leather. Ronin's cheeks are flushed with cold, with kisses and now with the beginnings of toasty warmth, and he offers a sunny smile to his husband as he hands him the flask and takes up the harness to drag the sled along with them.
"You could have written our names in the snow. Or built a snowman," he suggests.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
