and on to the glory at my right hand
It doesn't take much for the two men to surrender to each other on a good day, let alone now, when the barren snowscape offers them privacy and the predators that stir in their blood offer them heat. Shrugging out of his own jacket and letting it pool to the ground, it's with a muffled moan that Ronin follows Remi down to his knees. There's little that makes him want to strip off completely - naked on the Tundra is a step further than just having sex on it - but his hands crave enough of Remi's flesh that he's heedless to stop the other man ridding him of his clothes.
"Then that's what you'll have," he mumbles, wishing he had the concentration to summon another version of himself right now, to have and be had simultaneously. But this feels somehow like it needs to be real, and so it's with only one set of hands that he greedily tries to unbutton the other man's pants. "Gods, I love you," he whispers.
"Then that's what you'll have," he mumbles, wishing he had the concentration to summon another version of himself right now, to have and be had simultaneously. But this feels somehow like it needs to be real, and so it's with only one set of hands that he greedily tries to unbutton the other man's pants. "Gods, I love you," he whispers.
ronin
