[SE] sugar rush

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

So far this afternoon, Ronin has roared away a few ravens trying to deliver messages and has glowered at a trader or two as they sailed by, on their way to the Sea of Branches. He's also lounged atop their houseboat in the warm Leafchange sun, swatted a couple of butterflies and glowered some more at a few passers-by, in case they decide they want to come and fuck his husband say hello.

Evidently, the season combined with the memories that Ronin does still have about what Remi has had to do has made him more than a little hypervigilant. So while it looks as though he's meandering casually along the railing of the boat to 'check things over', it's more adequate to describe him as prowling. And he'll keep on doing it too, just watch him.

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

The letters sit unopened on the windowsill where two days previous Ronin had left them. Remi had said he would read them in the morning, but as the sun warmed their bed, they felt suddenly so unimportant. Then there was breakfast to be had, Ronin to be had, and the day had gotten away from him.

As for today? Well. It was no different, really, and so the letters continued to sit ignored, but not forgotten.

"Okay, come and see about this—" Comes the sound of Remi's voice, filtering through one of the open windows. Having kicked Ronin out that he might have the kitchen to himself, apparently it's finally time for the Huntsman to return. When he does, it will be to a kitchen that looks as though an epic battle was fought between Remi and a demon made of sugar and flour. With his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face, the alchemist looks down at the thing he'd made. Or, tried to make.

Having tried to use liquid sugar over the skeleton of a raccoon, Remi had been intending to make a terrifyingly sweet cage for the confections within. What Ronin would see, was a skeleton with sugar-icicles hanging from it, with a bit of poorly made cake shoved inside and dyed red.

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

Ronin slinks in through the door to the houseboat the moment Remi's voice hits the air, as if expecting to see something other than the chaos of sugar that has exploded in their kitchen. Sidling up behind the alchemist, Ronin leans in over his shoulder as if he's inspecting the sweet skeleton, only to slowly kiss away a smear of cake batter from the other man's cheek. "It looks wonderful," he informs him, though he's clearly not really looking.

When he does, though, it's with a small tilt of his head. "I think I know how to make some spun sugar though, if you want me to add anything to it? And maybe we can ice the cake a bit more so it looks like a heart?" Artistic and hungry - it's a perfect combination, right?

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

"Ronin" Remi protests as the Huntsman's blue eyes are directed in his direction, instead of towards his monstrocity masterpiece. Frowning, the alchemist tilts his chin up a touch and huffs, nostrils flaring ever so slightly. "What do you mean you know how?" He wonders, glancing at his husband over his shoulder. "I clearly know how." (spoiler: he very clearly did not know how).

'Well, it is not necessarily supposed to be a heart, so much as just the..' Actually no, a heart was much better than just a mess of internal organs. "...wait. No, I like that idea more." Sighing hard enough to send the flour on his cheeks and forehead scattering into the air, Remi narrows his eyes at his confection. Ronin will likely feel a dull serge of annoyance pulse through Remi, as his fingertips twitch.

"Or I could smash it, we could have sex and take a nap, and Ludo can just laugh at my attempt."

When you see something out of the corner of your eye, turn to look, and see nothing at all, what should you conclude? That you were having a hallucination? Or that your peripheral vision is perhaps not to be trusted. Ask yourself, are you tired? Drunk? Under the influence of something? Is the lighting good? Are there lots of moving shadows about? Are there reasons you have to think that your mind is playing tricks on you?

Because...well, because it would be absurd to think that out of the corner of your eye you had just seen a house. A house with a figure slamming its hands against one of the upper windows with enough force to shatter it, and then...

Well, then you looked and it was gone.

Nah, you're probably just tired.

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

"I mean, you've done a wonderful job with the sugar work so far, but I don't think it's spun sugar," Ronin says mildly, kissing Remi's flour covered nose as he turns to gaze over his shoulder at him. The surge of annoyace will be met with lazy adoration, as if all of the prickling upset that he's been harbouring outside the houseboat has melted away now that he has the Lullaby in his arms.

Chuckling under his breath and nuzzling kisses along the side of Remi's neck, Ronin's arms slip around the other man. "Or we could have sex, take a nap, put those finishing touches on it and Ludo can still laugh at your attempt?" he suggests.

Which is exactly when he spots something out of the corner of his eye. Feathers are already erupting down the back of his neck and spine, causing his haphazardly thrown on clothing to become tight black leather, and when he glares towards what he swears is a house, it's only more infuriating to find it gone.

"Did you see that?" he rumbles.

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

"You aren't spun sugar." Remi protests unhappily, but Ronin isn't wrong of course. Remi had thought that his knowledge of alchemy would transfer over quickly naturally to baking. Apparently, though, baking was all about FeEl. Perhaps he could blame his missing fingers for not having the right touch.

'But then I do not get to smash anything...' Remi says, grinning to himself as his head leans back against Ronin's should. In a beam of sunlight with the Huntsman's unshaven cheek against his own, the alchemist positively melts (as his sugar should have done earlier). Closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of Ronin around him, it's with a lazy shake of his head that he responds. "nnnn—" The slow smile spreading across his lips abruptly halts as Remi stiffens against his counterpart. "What?" He wonders gruffly, eyes snapping open where they immediately narrow to survey the kitchen.

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

Feathers continue to fan out along Ronin's back and across his shoulders, though he does manage to control them enough not to singe his husband. His blue eyes remain pinned on the far wall of the houseboat, as if someone might be outside pushing illusions against them, but of course, it's all gone by now.

"Nothing," he mutters, slowly coming back to himself and pulling the alchemist further back against his chest. "If you want to smash something then you can smash me then I'll make a little spun sugar creation just for you," he suggests, the phoenix down slowly melting back into his skin. "After the sex and the nap, of course."

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

The presence of pheonix flames nearly draws out tendrils of Remi's own fire, but feathers prevail instead. With his predatory instincts riled, the alchemist isn't as quick as his husband to dismiss whatever it was that Ronin had seen. But, given it couldn't be the ascended, if anything else was stupid enough to come near the houseboat (especially at the height of the season), Remi could only wish it the best of luck.

"Baking is difficult." The alchemist murmurs, neither admitting defeat nor committing himself to giving it another go. Certainly not when there was sex and naps to be had. Covering one of Ronin's hands with his own, Remi lets his head loll back against his husband's shoulder. "Tell me more about our second wedding." He invites while reaching out into the raw batter with his free hand to scoop up a fingerfull.

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

"Baking is difficult," Ronin agrees, letting out a long sigh and rolling a shoulder as the phoenix armour becomes his ordinary clothing once more, and he continues to lavish slow, sweet kisses along Remi's neck and jawline as they chat. As one of the alchemist's hands comes to cover his own, the Huntsman's fingers (the ones that aren't trapped) stray further, teasing around the waistband of his husband's pants.

"Well," he purrs into Remi's ear, "since the first time we had a huge party with pretty much half of Caido there, I thought this time it could be a more intimate affair. Just you and me and the will-o-wisps out at the Crimson Cataract. I could use my dazzle on all our decorations just before we went out there, so it was all glowing..." The same mischievous fingers are unbuttoning Remi's pants by now, naturally.

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

Grumbling encouragingly that Ronin might continue to punctuate his words with kisses, Remi dutifully listens to the answer to the question he'd asked, even as his attention trailed south along with his husband's fingers.

'Glowing.' He agrees, and if he's shifted his stance ever so slightly to aid in Ronin's explorations, what of it? "I could create our old bed, and make a canopy for overtop in case it rains.." Remi mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat. The finger with the dollop of batter has been completely forgotten as the alchemist combs his fingers through the Huntsman's hair (and in so doing gives him an impromptu hair-mask of sugar, egg, and flour). 'Maybe we could send out uninvitations." He suggests. "So that no one mistakenly decides to visit the waterfall on that particular day.."

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

Ronin is thankfully far too wrapped up in Remi (as per usual) to realise that he's become part of the afternoon's attempts at baking, leaning into the fingers in his hair and pressing his lips and teeth more insistently against the alchemist's neck. He doesn't break the skin - yet - and his fingers are deftly continuing to unbutton his husband's pants without ever really touching him.

"That sounds wonderful," he agrees. "When shall we plan for it to happen? It's Deepfrost soon, so unless you want a snowy wedding it might need to wait..." Which both is and isn't fine by Ronin, and he backs up to guide them towards the bed. "An uninvitation sounds more like a threat," he admits, "and I'm not mad about it. Let's do it."

Speaking of doing it, the Huntsman finally does slip his hand down the front of Remi's pants his palm pressing insistently against his cock.

RONIN

Oh if time is a river lets be stones underwater

Swallowing hard, all Remi is able to see is a warm shade of reddish-orange from behind his closed eyelids. The threat of danger had been enough to get his blood pumping, and Ronin's deft hands were doing very little to cool the temperature back down. Indeed as the Huntsman's fingers tactfully don't touch him, Remi can hear his breath hitch as a spike of annoyance radiates up from his core with enough force to part his lips.

"Snow is...cold.." Remi agrees, distractedly. His bare feet shift against the floorboards, displacing flour into the sunlight where it scatters back down like heatless snow. "mmmmmmmmmmmm." Whether this is an agreement about an invitation being a threat, about doing it, or about doing it, hardly matters. Not when Ronin's fingers had undone the buttons of his pants, and with the bed so close, and—

—"fuck." It's uttered as a curse as much as it's a sigh of relief, with Remi both tensing and relaxing in varying degrees. Snarling his fingertips outwards like a starburst against Ronin's scalp, Remi presses his teeth together as his cheek continues to loll drunkenly to the side. No doubt Ronin will feel the exquisite tension that shimmers out of the alchemist, as Remi internally wrestles with wanting to reach his hand down over Ronin's to expedite his movements, while also wanting to savour the buildup and laziness of the moment.

you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones

"I have every intention for us to do that as well, once we've gotten married again," Ronin murmurs into Remi's ear, his words coloured by the sound of his smirk. The backs of his legs hit the bed and he sinks down onto it, keeping the other man securely in his lap even as his fingers wrap around the hardening length of his cock.

"I suppose we ought to figure out what to wear," he hums, and the hand still splayed beneath Remi's starts to tease at the buttons of his shirt, while the other strokes lazily against his partner's erection. "More armour, maybe? You'd look good in all those buckles this time." His teeth nip at one of Remi's earlobes.

"And what will we do with our rings? Swap them? Get a new set to go with these? So many things to plan..." And it's only the fact that he's as silver tongued as he is that allows him to keep talking about it all, honestly.

RONIN