the distance never made a difference to me

I shouldn't laugh, but I know I'm a failure in your eyes

"Come on, now. There are better decisions and then there are uncharacteristic decisions. No matter how many falling stars are out there, we'd all pick you. And you know it." Ronin's words are simple and entirely reasonable, in his mind, his smile audible, his body boneless and relaxed. "That's nice to know, though. But even if you love it, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep a list of people for me to apologise to in Deepfrost."

Silenced for a time by their kisses, Ronin smiles against Remi's lips, his hand ghosting up to clasp the other man's cheek as if to reassure himself that he's not dreaming this moment. Barely a second passes once they part, however, before his husband's voice purrs through the air, and it's with a sudden frown that the same hand shifts to playfully cover Remi's mouth. "If you are going to make it serious again, give me this first," Ronin scolds softly.

This being the way the Nova shifts to let his head rest against his husband's chest, spending a quiet, blissful few moments doing little more than listening to the thrum of his heartbeat, fingers leaving his lips to map every silver line of scar tissue with exquisite care. "Alright," he murmurs when he's satisfied. "Do go on."

RONIN