the baffled king composing hallelujah
It's distant, how Ronin comes back to himself, his chest heaving and his arms tangled around his husband now that he's not busy pleasuring himself. Groaning something that's a mix of ecstasy and well-earned exhaustion, his head tilts so he can press sloppy kisses against Remi's temple, bonelessly relaxing into the bed. "Fuck, you're so good in bed," he mumbles, half laughing even as he continues to try and catch his breath. "I don't think I've ever told you outright before, but gods damn."
It's stiflingly hot under the blankets now, and so Ronin spends a moment or so kicking them off before he sprawls back, still content to have Remi all over him. "We lay here for a bit. No arguments. Then I make us breakfast. Then we shower. Then we do things."
It's stiflingly hot under the blankets now, and so Ronin spends a moment or so kicking them off before he sprawls back, still content to have Remi all over him. "We lay here for a bit. No arguments. Then I make us breakfast. Then we shower. Then we do things."
