[SE] and it goes like this

the baffled king composing hallelujah

Humming a soft note of appreciation into the kiss pressed against his lips, Ronin doesn't try to hide the way he all but melts against the alchemist. He soaks up their combined emotions wherever they touch, his fingers softly twining through the back of Remi's curls to hold him close.

And I shouldn't be glad to hear it, but I am, he admits, smiling as they part just enough to catch their breath, the Huntsman opening his eyes to enjoy the view of Remi surrounded by a halo of snow and starlight.

"We should probably keep going," he murmurs, referring to the sleigh ride and their luxere standing idly by, but at the same time Ronin does absolutely nothing to instigate that. Instead he leans in to kiss his husband again, his hands pressing against his chest now, as if to try and unbutton his coat to slip his fingers inside the fabric.

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

Love makes Remi as boyish as it does malleable such that he's putty beneath Ronin's wandering fingers. "Every time you do that—" It's with the slightest movement that Remi's chin lowers to indicate the placement of the Huntsman's hands. "—I think I would give up every ability I have in order to turn are clothing into flower petals." It's a truly ridiculous thought, and yet no part of the colourful swirl of Remi's emotions indicates that it's a lie. "To have the power to have us be close so instantly...maybe it is just my empathy magic, but gods Ronin, I crave you."

Indeed they probably should keep going. Someone would be looking for the wagon to be returned for the next festival-goers to enjoy, and if the pair brought it back stained (ew), broken (guys), or worst of all, having eaten the luxere (gods you two), there would be consequences. Not overly important ones, but consequences just the same.

And yet, like his husband, Remi leans forward to meet Ronin's kiss as his fingers curl into possessive shapes that fit perfectly against his husband's upper thigh. ..you.. He thinks, feeling the whisker-sharp tickle of Ronin's scruff against his skin; as he catches the taste of Ronin amidst the cocoa and whipped cream; as his mind unspools as if over a razor's edge between destruction and unfettered love. you, and you, and you.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

It's with flush of pink in his cheeks and a smile on Ronin's lips that he remembers a time when his husband could turn their clothing into flower petals, or feathers, or moss, or any other number of things. Alas, these days they are left to the mundane, and it's with a lingering nip to the alchemist's lower lip that he draws back. "It can't be your magic, because the feeling is mutual," he assures him, his fingers having opened the front of Remi's coat by this point.

His hands slip against the Lullaby's shirt, though they both know that won't be enough either, Ronin shifting as if he might move off Remi's lap, but in reality it's just to press against the hands sneaking along his thighs.

Have me, he whispers through the bond, his voice wicked at the same time as it's sincere. We can be quick. I believe in you. With a smile to match his tone, blue eyes flick over Remi's shoulder to make sure there aren't any other sleigh rides going on behind them. There aren't. For now.

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

Remi's eyelashes flutter as his mind slips back, taking a secondary position and yielding control to the alchemist's instincts. A harmless snarl curls his mouth as Ronin's teeth graze against his lower lip, and as Ronin looks around to confirm they are in fact alone, the alchemist's fingers are already wrestling with his husband's belt and pants. "We could both be naked right now.." Remi laments, but distantly. Already there is a wild sort of panic singing through his bones that makes it feel as though his fingers are shaking, screaming urgency into each of his movements.  

They could get out of the sleigh, yes, but in the wake of those words—have me—Remi is helpless to do anything but comply as immediately as he can. So it's with a boyish haste ill befitting two demigods that the alchemist tries to fumble their pants down to their knees (gods he can't be bothered to do any more than that, lest he shreds the fabric altogether), before he's trying to pull Ronin backwards onto his lap where the size of his erection might suggest there had been hours worth of foreplay instead of only a few minutes.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

"We can be naked when we get home. But I want you right now," Ronin grumbles, huffing out a laugh as they begin the awkward and hasty task of shoving down pants and underwear while the rest of the world is still freezing cold all around. He feels like a fumbling adolescent, as if he and Remi are on some heated, frenzied date instead of having been married for years, and it's enough to keep a wild sort of smile on his lips.

He sinks back onto Remi's lap with a sharp inhale, glancing over his shoulder to arch a coy eyebrow, as of to ask what the occasion is (referring, of course, to the size of his excitement). Still, Ronin had been serious about his near dizzying need for the other man, and he shifts enough that the Lullaby might tease against him, his lips parting in a shivering inhale. "Fuck, you feel good."

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

The bite of the cold against skin certainly not made to endure it, is absolutely nothing compared to the nearly tangible anticipation Remi feels in the seconds it takes Ronin to sink down against him. When he does, Remi mumbles unintelligible curses against his husband's back, lips parted and teeth bared as jewel-toned colours of desire swirl out from where the alchemist's fingers are wrapped around his husband's cock. Pulling his head back with a delayed jerk that his teeth might find the soft skin of Ronin's earlobe, Remi thrusts his hips up, eliciting another incoherent grunt of satisfaction.

"Fuck, Ronin." As always Remi's frenzied lust is nearly swamped with affection for the Huntsman, leaving Remi to perilously walk the line between wanting to dance his tongue between Ronin's lips while also wanting to close his finger's around his husband's throat and sink his talons into his flesh. "—you—" He starts to say, but his mind is overwhelmed with too many sensations such that the remainder of what might have been a plea, or praise, or curse, ends in nothing more than a pant.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

As Remi's hips arch up, Ronin's hand moves to grasp against his husband's forearm, fighting to find purchase lest he be fucked all the way off the sleigh accidentally. (Which would be hilarious, and would make for one hell of an anecdote, but still).

"More," he hisses into the cold night, his head tipping back and his hips rolling in a rhythm that's absolutely unsustainable. Already, with his breath clouding the air and his fingertips going numb, it feels like a rush towards the finish line.

"Gods, fuck me," he almost begs, feeling something akin to euphoria mounting in the base of his spine and the back of his throat, as if the pleasure he feels now is nothing compared to what Remi might wring out of him if he puts his mind (and body) to it.

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

Whatever extremities have gone numb for the lack of blood flow, Remi hardly cares. Disoriented with pleasure, it feels vaguely as though he's swimming against the current amidst a hurricane, fighting to get to the center wherein both he and Ronin will find release. Perhaps it's those watery thoughts that cause tentacles to slide out from Remi's hips and lower back, anchoring him to the sleigh with thousands of tiny suction cups.

Tethered, Remi's other hand is free to release the seat of the sleigh, sliding around to curl around his husband's balls as if to try and encompass every part of the Huntsman from which he could pull pleasure. With what acted like four extra arms to brace himself with, Remi's hips thrust up and down relentlessly. "I love fucking you—" He panted as his calves flexed and tightened and his orgasm rose like manic laughter in the back of his throat.

With fingers gone almost completely numb Remi matched the rhythm of his hips as if he was trying to drag Ronin's orgasm out in time with his own.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

Luckily for Remi, Ronin can't see the tentacles and - honestly - he absolutely doesn't give a fuck at this point. All the better to fuck you with and all that. With one of his hands still encircling the other man's arm, the other reaches back to snake through Remi's hair, the Huntsman fully anchored to his husband as his thrusts become more frenzied. Each buck of his hips is enough to drive Ronin wild all on its own, even without the pleasure rising like a yawn in the back of his throat.

"Gods, don't stop--" His words are stuttered and broken by their movements, Ronin clenching his teeth and succumbing completely to the feel of Remi's fingers pulsing around his cock. It doesn't take much to shove him headfirst into his climax - Ronin had said they ought to be quick and he wasn't lying - and as the world whites out like the snowfall around them, he arches back hard against the Lullaby and snarls a note of bliss into the air.

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

It's funny the things we find ourselves saying in moments like this; don't stop chief among them. With Remi's instincts charging ahead like a freight train, not even an order from Vi himself could cause the alchemist's body to halt. With his orgasm so close that it felt like an obstruction in the back of his throat he had to gasp around, all semblance of rationality drained away as the complexities of the world ceased to exist, leaving just he and Ronin in a whirlpool of pleasure.

Wings unfurl from Remi's shoulders following the sound of tearing cloth, that he might hold Ronin close without having to release his hands from around his husband's cock nor remove his tentacles. With his head heavy against the Huntsman's shoulder, Remi pants roughly, disturbing the odd stillness that has fallen around them. Though, perhaps it isn't so odd to think that every creature with half a brain has fled from the monstrous act of lovemaking (nay, fucking) which has just occurred.

"..that never gets old.." Remi mutters after what feels like a thousand years as his hands slowly relax.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

Not for the first time, Ronin almost wishes that Remi had been able to summon a projection of himself, so that he could have more of the alchemist's hands all over him. Alas, he will have to make do with wings and the hands against his cock and the breath against his shoulder, and you know what? That's more than enough.

It's the sort of comedown that leaves him more exhausted than it has any right to, and with chilled cheeks and his fingers still gripping hold of Remi far too tightly that Ronin exhales every ounce of tension in his body. "How could it?" he asks, his tone warm and lazy. "You're just as incredible now as you were the first time we were together."

Not a single part of him wants to move or change their positions, but the distant tinkle of sleigh bells speaks of another couple of riders drawing closer. Huffing a soft sound of annoyance, the Huntsman carefully extracts himself, cleans up as best he's able, and hitches his pants back up around his waist.

He leaves them undone, of course, as he settles once more beside Remi, giving the reins a flick to set their luxere off at a plodding walk. In the meantime, his head lolls against his lover's shoulder. "I love you so much."

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

'Oh, well. There is no need to lie.' Remi replies, feeling shaky laughter bubbling out of his lips before he even has a chance to register his amusement. "You were only the second man I had ever been with, and even then..." Laughing still, Remi shakes his head, nuzzling his cheek against Ronin's only to grumble with companionable frustration as the Huntsman wisely rises. 'We could have just pretended you were sitting on my lap and covered us with the blanket.' Remi complains, though he too is wiping his hands and shimmying his pants back up around his hips (sans tentacles, now).

Stretching out an arm that felt shockingly heavy, Remi leans against Ronin in return. "This is really what true love is, isn't it." Said quietly, for a moment the alchemist just marvels at the truth of what he's just said. As the luxere jingles on before them and sensation returns to his fingers, Remi is both humbled as he is thrown by what feels like a shocking realization, even though of course it isn't.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the baffled king composing hallelujah

"We could have, but then I wouldn't be able to do this," Ronin mumbles, already pressing sleepy, loving kisses against Remi's cheek and the side of his neck. He does fumble with the blanket to draw it back over their laps, as well as grabbing up a large mug of cocoa for them to share. Smiling and pressing Remi's fingers around the mug as well as his own, Ronin peeks up at the alchemist.

"Yes," he says softly, stealing a kiss from his lips. "Yes, this is exactly what true love is. Or if it isn't, then I don't need true love, because what we have is even better." Lifting their hands, Ronin leans in to sip from the cocoa before slouching back again, nuzzling obnoxiously against Remi's unshaven cheek.

Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song

"Oh, I think you might have found a way." Remi replies, rolling his eyes but happily accepting the affection without argument. Lacing a hand missing a few fingers around the mug, the alchemist sighs at the warmth and closes his eyes. "If I dream us home...do you think this luxere can find its way back, if you tell it to?" The urge to suddenly be in bed, to be warm and free of jackets and shoes was nearly overwhelming.

"Mmmmm." Humming against Ronin's lips, Remi kisses the Huntsman back with luxurious softness. "I will never get enough of you, whatever this is." He replies as they part, letting his eyes open slowly. With dimpled cheeks and a rare sweetness in his eyes that likely only Ronin has ever seen, he beams sunnily against his husband's nuzzles. 'I am so glad that you did not pull the sleigh.'

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)