Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
It hasn't been as long for Ronin as it has for the wendigo, but that's not to say it's been recent either. And, uninhibited by the rush of alcohol in his blood and the sudden freedom to stretch beneath the other man, he fully enjoys all the ways their bodies are coming together. With a touch that's rapidly starting to become greedy, he manages a firm squeeze against Remi's thigh before - unhappily, the hunter might add - he's suddenly gone.
Shifting as if trying to chase the sensation, he's equally flustered and aroused but at least the confusion is taking a backseat, Ronin left leaning back on his elbows and watching Remi through hazy blue eyes and with ruddy cheeks. "I'm sorry," he says, not for the first time, though his lips are numb and buzzing with lost sensation, and his jeans are uncomfortable to say the least.
"I was just... I didn't mean for this." Itching at the stubble on his cheek, Ronin shakes his head; he might not have meant for it, but there's nothing about him to suggest he didn't fucking enjoy it. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want."
Shifting as if trying to chase the sensation, he's equally flustered and aroused but at least the confusion is taking a backseat, Ronin left leaning back on his elbows and watching Remi through hazy blue eyes and with ruddy cheeks. "I'm sorry," he says, not for the first time, though his lips are numb and buzzing with lost sensation, and his jeans are uncomfortable to say the least.
"I was just... I didn't mean for this." Itching at the stubble on his cheek, Ronin shakes his head; he might not have meant for it, but there's nothing about him to suggest he didn't fucking enjoy it. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want."
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
