I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes
Only us, Ronin echoes, his correction quiet even by the standards of their Attuned bond. He can't pour starshine and sunlight onto Remi's bruises like he wants to - he can't wash away his darkness with the heat of his body, either - but he can try his damnedest to draw the venom out of his heart in other ways. One might think that any physical act of love after the events at the Falling would be hasty, clumsy, violent even, but the opposite proves to be the case here.
Their bodies come together and Ronin shivers out a breath against Remi's neck, as if the pleasure of this ought to be an afterthought. How could it ever be, though, with bronzed skin and silvery scars and taut muscles beneath his fingers? The Huntsman moves slowly, gently, as if in a dream, slipping a hand beneath his partner's lower back as if to encourage to rise and arch of his hips, and while at any other moment this pace might seem frustrating, if anything, for now it feels absolutely right.
Their bodies come together and Ronin shivers out a breath against Remi's neck, as if the pleasure of this ought to be an afterthought. How could it ever be, though, with bronzed skin and silvery scars and taut muscles beneath his fingers? The Huntsman moves slowly, gently, as if in a dream, slipping a hand beneath his partner's lower back as if to encourage to rise and arch of his hips, and while at any other moment this pace might seem frustrating, if anything, for now it feels absolutely right.
RONIN
