I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes
It's one of those moments that feels like it belongs outside of itself. Ronin is a participant as much as he's someone distantly watching it happen from far away, and it's with Remi's voice in his mind and in his ear and the feel of him, hot and close but not close enough all around that he surrenders to his orgasm. Gods, you're everything, he whispers through the bond, the swell of his feelings like an avalanche; seeming slow but roaring through and drowning everything once it's close enough.
Pleasure sings through his bones, lasting longer than it has any right to (or perhaps he's just lost in the intensity of it), and by the time Ronin realises he's forgotten to breathe there are constellations dancing behind his eyes, and he drags in a shuddering breath with his lips pressed against Remi's exposed throat.
Panting hard once that dam of oxygen deprivation is finally broken, the Huntsman can do little but exist in the seconds of darkness that envelops them, pure and clean and devoid of anything like relics and responsibility. "This is where I'm spending the war," he decides, the words mumbled into Remi's neck even as he sags against him and into the bed.
Pleasure sings through his bones, lasting longer than it has any right to (or perhaps he's just lost in the intensity of it), and by the time Ronin realises he's forgotten to breathe there are constellations dancing behind his eyes, and he drags in a shuddering breath with his lips pressed against Remi's exposed throat.
Panting hard once that dam of oxygen deprivation is finally broken, the Huntsman can do little but exist in the seconds of darkness that envelops them, pure and clean and devoid of anything like relics and responsibility. "This is where I'm spending the war," he decides, the words mumbled into Remi's neck even as he sags against him and into the bed.
RONIN
