RONIN
Smiling against Remi's lips and trying to chase another kiss from them as he draws back, alas, Ronin will just have to be content with the siren song of his husband's words. The travelling tongue spills like music from the Lullaby's lips, as always, but here in the firelight and with the oppressive darkness caging them in on all sides, it sounds vastly more intimate. With a stuttering breath punctuated by the way he stumbles against their kitchen table, Ronin can only watch as Remi sinks to his knees.
You look incredible, is what he wants to say. Or gods, you make me want you, or any number of other declarations, some lewd, some sweet, some a warped mixture of both. Somehow, though, ruining Remi's poetry with his clumsy common tongue feels like an act of heresy, and so his fingers slip through soft, rich curls and trace along the other man's jawline so he can feel what he wants to say instead.
You look incredible, is what he wants to say. Or gods, you make me want you, or any number of other declarations, some lewd, some sweet, some a warped mixture of both. Somehow, though, ruining Remi's poetry with his clumsy common tongue feels like an act of heresy, and so his fingers slip through soft, rich curls and trace along the other man's jawline so he can feel what he wants to say instead.
one more wish for you
