RONIN
"Well that's just unacceptable. I only give permission for the two of us to eat any statue of me made out of chocolate," Ronin grumbles, though it's all for show given how little of his attention is available now for thoughts that aren't about Remi. Specifically about the press of Remi's tongue against his own or the heat rolling off his body, or the way his touch still feels brand new even if it must have been thousands of times since he first had his hands all over him.
The shower begins to fill the little room with steam, and Ronin meanwhile pushes Remi's pants down over his hips, his fingers roaming up now as his eyes slip shut to enjoy the attention along the crook of his neck. "I hope that's a good taste," he murmurs with a crooked grin. "You still taste like cocoa and whiskey and woodsmoke. What a pair we must make." His hands press against shoulder blades where wings so often push their way out, though the only thing Ronin is trying to encourage now is further closeness between them.
The shower begins to fill the little room with steam, and Ronin meanwhile pushes Remi's pants down over his hips, his fingers roaming up now as his eyes slip shut to enjoy the attention along the crook of his neck. "I hope that's a good taste," he murmurs with a crooked grin. "You still taste like cocoa and whiskey and woodsmoke. What a pair we must make." His hands press against shoulder blades where wings so often push their way out, though the only thing Ronin is trying to encourage now is further closeness between them.
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
