RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"I distinctly remember there being more fireworks on our wedding night," Ronin objects with a fierce smile that knows the innuendo he's just made, and as Remi sidles in next to him, his arm slips along the Lullaby's broad shoulders to rest comfortably around them, the gesture as casual as it is quietly possessive. "I think there was a great deal more fumbling with our keys to get into the guildhouse, too," he adds. "...And buckles. Lots of buckles."
This last part is delivered with his lips pressed to the shell of Remi's ear, as if to turn this stroll down memory lane into a sprint that ends with their clothes littering the floor of the tavern. Though Ronin's eyes are still on the crowd under the guise of general people watching, the topography of his husband's body is something he can navigate blind, and his free hand slips down to cover Remi's own.
"How was it, though? Your foray into the role of charming socialite?" He nips softly at the other man's earlobe. "Did you make sure to ask about the weather? That is always a hit."
This last part is delivered with his lips pressed to the shell of Remi's ear, as if to turn this stroll down memory lane into a sprint that ends with their clothes littering the floor of the tavern. Though Ronin's eyes are still on the crowd under the guise of general people watching, the topography of his husband's body is something he can navigate blind, and his free hand slips down to cover Remi's own.
"How was it, though? Your foray into the role of charming socialite?" He nips softly at the other man's earlobe. "Did you make sure to ask about the weather? That is always a hit."
show me your darkness.
