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At least your mom only kind of sucks.

[He could make a joke there, it wasn't like the thought didn't occur to him, but he was being serious here. Maybe Ronan's mom hadn't called him a freak but she'd still told him to bury a dream forever.

Turning his hand over so they were palm to palm, he curled his fingers around Ronan's hand. His grip was gentle, the way he usually wasn't with people, but his gaze was intense.]

I know. But he made me feel like one.

[It was something he still struggled with but he didn't usually let other people know. His views on being a dreamer swung wildly between 'I'm a god' and 'I'm a freak' with almost no middle ground. He'd worked hard to get to the point he was at though, to be able to pull things from his dreams with the precision he had. Which wasn't to say he didn't fuck up sometimes, but it wasn't as much as he used to when he was younger.]

Neither of you are freaks. [Proko said, leaning in closer until his lips brushed Ronan's ear.]

Can I kiss you? [It was a quiet murmur, and more than Kavinsky would have done. K would have just gone for the kiss but Proko was...not polite, really, but more aware of boundaries.]

[Normally, invoking his parents in anything other than a complementary way was a fast path to a punch in the face, but it was different like this. Kavinsky knew what it was like, and it was something he remembered, something that still hurt. He thinks that she'd tried, but--

He shivers when Kavinsky turns his hand so they're palm to palm, the other dreamer's fingers curling around his hand, and Ronan shifts his grip a little so he can press their fingers together. His heart is racing as he looks him in the eyes, feels like Kavinsky looks through him, like he could devour him.

He gasps, sharp and audible and it makes his face heat in something almost like embarrassment as Proko's lips brush against his ear. And then there's that question, and his breath shakes, looking at Kavinsky for a moment, just to make sure that saying yes wouldn't be wrong. But the other dreamer doesn't seem bothered by it, so he nods, shifting on the couch so that he can face Proko a bit more properly. And well, make it easier for him to kiss him. It does put him awful close to almost being in K's lap, though.

There's a voice in the back of his head that reminds him all the ways that this is wrong, but there's something about right now and he wants the other boy to kiss him. He doesn't let go of Kavinsky's hand, but he lets his other hand press to Proko's shoulder.]

Yeah. I.. think I'd like that.

[Kavinsky smirked when Ronan gasped, and Proko was amused--though not in a cruel way. Proko wouldn't have asked in the first place if he'd thought Kavinsky would be upset about it. He knew pretty damn well how much of a bad idea it was to piss K off. They got along most of the time but even Proko wasn't perfect. He didn't think Kavinsky wanted him to be, either.

Smiling, Proko lifted a hand to gently touch the side of Ronan's face before leaning in to kiss him. He clearly knew what he was doing--this wasn't even close to the first time he'd kissed someone--but he was patient, too. He wasn't in any rush and he didn't want to make Ronan uncomfortable. He just- he felt drawn to him and he wasn't sure if it was only a physical attraction or something more.

Kavinsky, on the other hand, watched the two of them like a hawk. He didn't let go of Ronan's hand, but he rested his other on the boy's thigh, fingers slowly creeping higher. Maybe it was adrenaline about what'd happened tonight, or the fact he'd found another dreamer and wasn't alone anymore, or maybe he was just horny and Ronan was hot--no, it was definitely all of the above--but he desperately wanted Ronan in some way or another. He could be patient though, for now. He could let the other two kiss for now.]

[Ronan had never actually kissed a boy before- not for real. Which was to say that he'd never kissed anyone before. If this was before his life went to shit, it might have made him soft and sweet, but instead his inexperience translates into something almost needy. He tastes like a dream, like things Ronan wants without having the words for. He murmurs into the contact, hot with desire.

He wanted Proko, wanted the way that their mouths fit together, the way that his fingers almost felt like they burned where they touched the side of his face. He was drawn to him. Drawn to both of them, if he was honest. It was why he hadn't let go of Kavinsky's hand, and why he leans into the touch as the other boy presses fingers to his thigh, shifting higher. Ronan's already hard in his jeans, arousal like a flame at that first touch.

And this is more than just a touch, this is Proko kissing him and Kavinsky's hands on him, and Ronan's in over his head, overwhelmed- but in a way that he doesn't want to stop. His thumb drags up against Kavinsky's pulse, rubbing softly against thin skin, like a way to say that Proko isn't the only one here he's attracted to, even if he'd never have the words for it.

Part of it was that no one had ever touched Ronan like this before. But part of it was more than that too. There was a draw to Proko, to Kavinsky, a spark in knowing that Kavinsky was a dreamer, and he could almost imagine he could feel it in the way their fingers twined. Maybe it was adrenaline and inexperience, but it felt like so much more, like something magnetic.]

[Kavinsky was something of a voyeur--there was a reason Swan was usually the cameraman when the pack got together on drunken nights (or sober ones). Watching was almost as good as being involved. His gaze flickered from watching Proko and Ronan kiss to Ronan's neck and back again before he leaned in and pressed his mouth to his skin. His hand on his thigh crept higher until he cupped his groin, giving him a firm squeeze.

Proko wasn't entirely oblivious to Kavinsky's actions and he shifted his arm away to let the other boy reach Ronan's neck easier, instead running his fingers down Ronan's spine. He didn't yet know how things were going to go, how much control Kavinsky was going to take over the situation, but he was content (for now) with kissing. He wanted Ronan, not desperately, not like Kavinsky did, but he wanted him all the same.]

Proko's good with his mouth, [Kavinsky murmured, catching Ronan's ear between his teeth for a moment.] He could suck you off. Or I could fuck you.

[He was torn between the options, personally, though either one of them would be nice for Ronan. Kavinsky'd wanted him for a while now, weeks, but he wasn't about to leave Proko out of things, either.]

[Ronan gasped softly as Kavinsky's mouth pressed to the skin of his neck, heat a jolt through his body, and then it was so much more.. The other dreamer's fingers cupping against him, squeezing his erection through the fabric of his denims, and he moaned with the feeling. Someone else's fingers on him, and not just anyone, but Kavinsky. He didn't-- he'd never done this but he wanted it. He wanted to touch and be touched, the way that it made his body come alive.

He'd almost forgotten it was possible to feel like this. He can catch the way that they move together- Proko's hands trailing down his back so that Kavinsky can have better access to his neck, and there's a certain thrill to it. People that clearly know each other so well, the fact that they both want him with something other than jealousy. His breath catches in his throat and he doesn't know if it's at the words that Kavinsky suggests, or the sharp feeling of his teeth, which Ronan likes a lot. Far more than he would have considered, and he tilts into the sensation.

He's gasping for a moment when he breaks the kiss, flushed and unraveled as he looks at Kavinsky. He feels drunk, the way it makes the world flexible like taffy. Makes it easy to not worry about his choices. This feels like a dream, but better. He doesn't think he could be this greedy, this brazen even in his fantasies.]

I haven't-- but I want to.

[One hand pressed to Kavinsky, his other brushing against Prokopenko because he doesn't want to leave him out either. He doesn't know how to say I want you both; can hardly manage to admit that he'd a virgin but that he wants the other dreamer anyway.]

[Kavinsky smiled, or maybe it was closer to a smirk. He looked over Ronan's shoulder and met Proko's eyes, all heat and desire. Proko was struck with the thought that if Ronan hadn't been in between them, Kavinsky would have kissed him. A shiver rolled down his spine, both because of the look and the implication that Ronan hadn't had sex before.

Removing his hand from Ronan's crotch, Kavinsky cupped his face in his hands, pushing Proko out of the way a bit, and kissed him. He leaned into it, let it linger, committed every moment of it to memory. It was better than his dreams, better than anything he'd imagined. Usually, reality paled in comparison to the things he could create or the drug trips, but Ronan was special.]

I'll be gentle.

[He kissed Ronan again while Proko snorted, taking Ronan's hand in his and kissing at his wrist. He said, with some amusement-]

Don't lie to him.

[Kavinsky, much more interested in kissing Ronan than he was talking, sighed and pulled back just a fraction after a moment to say, mumbled against the other boy's mouth;]

I won't hurt you.

[Satisfied with that, Proko leaned in to kiss Ronan's neck instead, one hand drifting down to press against his groin. He would hold Kavinsky to that, make sure he wasn't too rough with Ronan in his enthusiasm. Sometimes, K wasn't always...responsible, and could get too into things.]

[Ronan gasped, rough and wanting as Kavinsky cupped his face and kissed him. Slipping from Prokopenko to the dreamer with the other boy's kisses still on his mouth, and there's something about it that feels different--

He wouldn't say better, but it's like a spark that sets him on fire, where Proko was slow and sweet like honey. And maybe he needs them both, if he's honest. He leans into Kavinsky, clinging to him, desire obvious and tangible in how he touches him. Heedless and eager, his kisses like a question or a request, or a please he wouldn't quite know how to say. He shudders though, at the way that Proko kisses his wrist. Weak to those sort of touches; wrists and necks and fingertips.

He can't help smiling at their slight disagreement, Ronan similarly more interested in kissing Kavinsky, but he murmurs a retort to the words, looking into his dark eyes-]

I'm not made of glass.

[Maybe a bit reckless in saying that in response to Kavinsky of all people. But Ronan is defiant, all bright eyes and lifted chin for that moment where they're breathing words instead of biting kisses into each others' mouth. And he means it- he doesn't want to be treated like he's soft. He wants Kavinsky to ruin him with pleasure, show him what it's like.

He's not so reckless that there isn't a certain amount of comfort in the reassurance that the other boy wont hurt him. But he doesn't need him to be gentle; which is probably a good thing. He isn't sure K could manage it anyway. But that's okay. And he does wants Proko too, even if that's newer, a little less desperate.

Ronan's needed someone to burn him alive for months now.]

[Kavinsky smiled, brushing his fingers across Ronan's cheeks.]

I know you're not.

[There was an unspoken but there. But Ronan had nearly died tonight. But he was new at this and that was alright. But Kavinsky wasn't usually very patient. He would treat Ronan right though, to the best of his abilities. He didn't want to hurt the other boy, not in ways that he wouldn't enjoy. Maybe Kavinsky was just weird, but he always enjoyed things more with an edge of pain. Maybe that was why Proko did, too, or maybe that had been a part of him even before Kavinsky had dreamed him back to life.

Kavinsky kissed him again, hands dropping to the bottom hem of Ronan's shirt to start pulling it up, tugging it off. Proko shifted back to make a little more room, watching the pair of them. If it was just him, he'd manage to be gentle. Slow and steady and sweet, but Kavinsky was leagues more impatient than he was, rougher around the edges. Which was saying something, since Proko was rough-edged, too.

Proko let his hands wander across Ronan's back once his shirt had been dealt with, scratching gently with his fingernails. His dreamer, on the other hand, had already moved on to kissing Ronan again, hands on the front of Ronan's pants, working on getting them open.]

Good.

[Ronan can hear the but that lingers after Kavinsky's words, but he doesn't push at it. He wasn't so reckless that he wanted the other boy to hurt him- or at least not a sort of hurt that Ronan wouldn't enjoy- he'd just needed to make the point that he didn't need to handle him with kid gloves. Besides which, any possible complaints he might have made fall away when K kisses him again.

Ronan murmurs, leaning into it, kissing him back. He feels like he needs this, like he'd needed it without knowing what it was he was aching for. He shivers as the other dreamer's hands catch the bottom of his shirt, starting to pull it up and off of him, and Ronan moves as best as he can to make it easy for him, letting him draw his arms up, breaking the kiss just for a moment, and then kissing Kavinsky once the fabric has pulled free of the dark curls of his hair that fall against his jaw.

Honestly, all of them were rough-edged boys, albeit in different sorts of ways. But they were rough edges that felt like they fit together -- at least now, at least when they were all tangled together like this, hands and kisses and Ronan so in over his head, but just wanting more. More than willing to let the two boys ruin him with how his skin felt like it burned with pleasure. Even more with how Proko scratched nails against his back.

Ronan gasping softly as he leaned into his hands, the sounds muffled by how his mouth was pressed to Kavinsky. His fingers clinging against him, he wanted to pull his shirt off, get him undressed the way he was undressing him, but he couldn't focus, couldn't think of anything other than how they made him feel.]

[Prokopenko pressed kisses across Ronan's shoulders, soft and sweet, while he traced one finger slowly down his spine. He'd always expected to feel jealous at seeing Kavinsky kiss someone else, knowing there was someone else he wanted who wasn't Proko, but he just felt...happy, in this moment. Kavinsky was happy, and that was the important thing. Well, that and Ronan's comfort.

Kavinsky was also impatient, and as soon as he had Ronan's pants open, he shoved a hand into his underwear, desperate to feel and touch him. Where Proko was a slow-burning fire, Kavinsky was a hurricane. He wanted and wanted and wanted. He also took and took, and when it was Proko, he always let him. He hoped Ronan could handle him, but Proko was there too and maybe that would balance things out a little.

Groaning against Ronan's mouth, Kavinsky pulled away a fraction, a little breathless. A bed probably would have been a better place for this, but he couldn't be bothered to even suggest moving at this point. He'd make it work. He also really needed to get Ronan's pants off but he was a bit distracted.]

God, you're- [He took a breath, kissed the corner of Ronan's mouth.] -fucking hot.

[Ronan gasps, almost a whimper as Kavinsky shoves his hand into his underwear, fingers brushing against his erection and he shakes with the feeling. His head falling back as his hips tilt into the contact, the way that it feels, burning in his veins. Pleasure and want and making him feel alive and present in his own skin, and he grabs against K's shirt, his touch trembling, already overwhelmed. Be the last thing he wants right now is for him to stop. He wants more, wants more than he has words for.

He wants K to take and he wants to give, and he wants Proko, even if he's too inexperienced, too new to be good at splitting his attention between the two of them. Too caught up in kissing Kavinsky, even when it becomes more like gasping against his mouth, breathless and needy. He squirms a little, fingers shoving at the waist of his jeans, trying to kick them lower, give the other boy more access.

Eager, but he can't help himself. He needs more, and it feels like he isn't the only one.

A bed probably would have been a good idea, but Ronan has no more inclination to stop and move than either of the other two boys. He murmurs, chases that kiss when K presses one at the corner of his mouth. He's flushed and heated, and every beat of his heart feels like a cry for more.]

I-- I need you.

[Kavinsky grinned, brilliant and sharp. He had Ronan exactly where he wanted him--and where Ronan wanted to be, from the sounds of things.]

I'm getting there.

[He assured him, reluctantly removing his hand from Ronan's underwear to start shimmying his pants down.

Ronan wasn't left without contact though- while Kavinsky worked on that, Proko looped an arm around Ronan's waist and curled his fingers around his erection, firm but almost tender when he started stroking him. Hand moving slow and steady, Proko started sucking a bruise onto the side of Ronan's neck, determined to leave a mark.

Kavinsky got Ronan's pants, underwear, and shoes off, albeit with a bit of struggling, and dropped them all unceremoniously to the floor. He took a moment to admire the sight of the other boy, nude, Prokopenko's hands and mouth on him, and then leaned in to kiss him again.

Letting it linger, he pondered the best way of doing this, how he was going to position everyone to get the most out of the moment. He could be selfish but- he didn't want to leave Proko out. His dream boy was sharing so well, after all.]

[Ronan was flushed, but- he wasn't really embarrassed, even if he was vaguely aware that he probably should be. But he trusted Kavinsky, Prokopenko. They'd saved his life, invited him into theirs, so letting them get him naked didn't even feel like the most revealing thing that had happened tonight.

He murmurs in understanding, agreement, when Kavinsky says he's getting there, and manages not to protest when he pulls his touch away to start working his pants down.

But Ronan sighs in soft pleasure, breathes the boy's name onto the air as Proko replaced K's touches. Fingers curled around his erection, firm but somehow it felt a little sweet, too. He was all soft sounds, his hips jerking unevenly up into his touch. He does his best to move how Kavinsky needs to get his clothes off, but it's hard to not be distracted.

He tilts his head, giving Prokopenko better access to his neck, almost like an invitation as he starts sucking a mark into his neck. It felt hard enough to linger, but more than that it was hot in a way he couldn't have explained. Something about having the boy's touch marked on his skin, like something he could touch. Like this wasn't transient- it was something he could hold onto.

He wants to touch Proko, to get his hands on the other boy. But in order to do that he'd have to move out of his lap, stop leaning up against him, and he doesn't want to lose the safety of his body. Kavinsky kisses him again, and he almost purrs, kisses him back, eager and needy. He didn't quite know how this would work, but he trusted them. He wanted-- he wanted them both. He wanted to keep them, to wrap himself between them.

He felt greedy, he wanted all that he could have, enough to wrap him in safety and pleasure. He was inexperienced, maybe a little clumsy, but he was eager.]

Edited (words are hard okay) 2022-03-02 05:54 (UTC)

[Nothing about this was temporary or fleeting to either Kavinsky or Prokopenko. They both wanted Ronan in their life though for slightly different reasons. Kavinsky was more selfish, but he'd been lonely for longer. Proko...there was something that drew him to Ronan, made him want to hold onto him and keep him safe. He was a little like a dragon with its hoard, but instead of riches, he collected dreamers.

Kavinsky touched Ronan's knee, a slight brush of his hand, and broke away from the kiss reluctantly.]

Need to get you lying down.

[Stretched out on the couch, he meant. He didn't seem particularly in a rush though--if anything, he seemed distracted by watching Proko working on leaving a mark on Ronan's neck. Eventually, though, he did say-]

Proko.

[With great reluctance, Proko lifted his head, peering at Kavinsky over Ronan's shoulder. Right. Moving. His hands stilled, sliding to Ronan's hips instead. He shifted a little, gently nudging the other boy. He'd cradle Ronan's head in his lap after all was said and done as far as repositioning went, but they had to get there, first.]

[Ronan wanted them both with an intensity that surprised him. He thought that he'd forgot what wanting was when his father died. But these two boys pulled at him in ways that he couldn't have explained. Magnetic. Something essential, that curled in his heart.

A dreamer and a dream; of course he needed them like breathing.

He murmured when Kavinsky pulled back from the kiss, but managed to let that be his only protest, breathing a soft agreement to his instruction. But it was hard to move with Proko's mouth on his neck, intent on sucking a mark into his skin, and Ronan so very willing to let him. His body was all heat, all want- but when Proko did finally stop, Ronan cooperated. Easily shifting under the boys' hands as he was laid out on the couch, flushed and breathless.

He ends up with his head in Proko's lap, looking up at Kavinsky all helplessly starry eyed. He wants this, he wants them. He's sure someone would tell him it was wrong, but he needs it too much to care. He needs to touch them, to feel Kavinsky inside his skin.

Ronan doesn't think he's ever wanted anything the way that he wants them.]

[Kavinsky still had way too many clothes on, if he was being quite honest. He ditched his shoes, at least, before pulling a bottle of lube out of his pocket. If he took his pants off too soon, he might get ahead of himself. He might be tempted to rush the preparation- and he didn't want to hurt Ronan. Especially not tonight of all nights after what he'd been through. Ronan deserved to have the time of his life. Kavinsky wanted to give it to him.

While K positioned himself, half-kneeling-half-sitting between Ronan's legs, Proko petted Ronan's hair, nails scratching gently against his scalp with each pass. With Ronan's head in his lap there wasn't much he could do to hide how hard he was, clothed or not. It was even more difficult not to get distracted with fantasies, imagining the dreamer's mouth on his dick. Maybe after- he knew K wouldn't leave him out.

With a quiet murmur, Kavinsky pressed a slick finger against Ronan's ass, circling before pushing in slowly. There was a part of him that wanted to skip this and get to the main event but- there was something to be said about taking things slower, too. Or at least safely.]

[Ronan's every breath was heated, looking up at K as the other boy positioned himself between his legs; the denim of his jeans rough against his thighs, but in a way that he couldn't help but like. He murmurs at the way that Proko's fingers pet against the curls of his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He could feel the boy's erection through his jeans, and he couldn't help turning his head a little just to nuzzle into the pressure of it. Trying to add a little bit of stimulation, because-- well, he didn't want to ignore him. He didn't want to make it feel like Proko didn't matter or something.

And more than that, because he wanted him too. It was greedy, maybe a little bit shameful if he let his thoughts wander in that direction, but he wanted Proko. He wanted to touch him, and feel him. He wanted to feel his pleasure with his skin or lips or however they fit together. He'd never had someone's dick in his mouth, but he'd heard about it of course, enough to have the idea in his head. To wonder what it would feel like. He reaches up, a little unsure, palming fingers against Proko through his jeans, like he might have been about to work on getting them undone--

But Kavinsky presses a lube-slick finger into his body and he gasps, skin flushed and the slow way K sinks his finger into him makes it so it mostly just feels good. There's an ache to it, with the way that his body stretches. Ronan tenses at first, but then he relaxes enough for K to ease his finger into the other boy, a helpless moan on his mouth as his hips lift at the feeling.

In truth, Ronan was reckless enough that he wasn't really a fan of taking things slow himself. He wants Kavinsky and Proko to set him on fire, to ruin him in the ways he'd only ever imagined. But he was willing to be patient, to let them show him. But when he can think again, when he remembers how to breathe, his fingers catch on the zipper of Proko's jeans, looking up at the other boy to make sure it's okay.

On another day, he would have been too in his own head, overthinking and scared of everything this meant. But now was-- it was something else. Almost like a dream, when all he could do was want and feel. Where for the first time in months it felt like there was something that could fill the holes in his life.]

[Kavinsky was trying so hard not to take things too fast, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't think Prokopenko would let him if he tried, anyway. Sometimes, though Proko was just as reckless as K, he was also his voice of reason. He made sure Kavinsky toed the line instead of crossing it some nights, kept his head on his shoulders.

So K went slow, pushed in slow, gaze flickering from Ronan's thighs to his face. The way the other boy moaned sent a shiver down his spine. He wanted- he wanted everything. He thought maybe he'd get it, too, if he played his cards right.

On the other hand, Proko's heart nearly stopped in his chest for a moment at the feeling of Ronan's fingers pressing on his jeans. And the way he looked at him, like he was making sure it was okay- it was sweet and Proko would've kissed him if he could've reached. Instead, he murmured a breathless-]

Shit. Yeah, go for it.

[Kavinsky, working his finger steadily, watched them with a smirk on his lips.]

Am I going to get a show?

[He wasn't even teasing; he was genuinely too turned on at the idea to even consider being a dick about it.]

[Ronan is already wrecked, but it's a good thing, where he wants them to ruin him. He knows that Kavinsky's finger isn't enough to really stretch him. Isn't enough to prepare him for what he's aching for. To have the other boy inside his body, in his skin, stretching him open and taking, letting him give. The idea of the pleasure of it, of letting Kavinsky and Proko show him what he wants, what he's aching for.

He smiles up at Proko at the way that he curses, breathless gives him permission, and Ronan's quick to pop the button on his jeans and start easing the zipper down. He flushes as he looks back at Kavinsky, nodding slowly, because it doesn't sound like an objection. If anything it sounds like he likes the idea, like he wants to watch.]

Yeah. I'm not gonna leave him out. Not when you're both being so good to me.

[Ronan's a little bit clumsy with it, because he's never had to figure out how to get someone else's dick out of their jeans before, and certainly not from this angle. But he manages it carefully, stroking fingers slowly along the shaft, touching to learn the shape of him in his fingers. He murmurs in soft appreciation, shifting to brush his cheek against him and then dragging his tongue against the flesh. The skin of his cock almost velvet soft against his mouth, and somehow there was something impossibly hot about touching Proko like this.

He presses back onto that finger stroking against his insides, his eyes flicking back to meet Kavinsky's. He was trying to split his attention between them, both because he didn't want one of them to think they were important, and just selfishly because he needed them both.]

I can-- I think I can take more.

[Looking up into Kavinsky's eyes, because he means it. Or thinks he means it, at least. Of course what he's really saying is that he wants more. Now that he can breathe okay with Kavinsky's finger inside of him, he wants him to stretch him open again. He wants him to give him enough that he can let the other boy fuck him, so he can take what they're both yearning for.

Of course, he says this with his mouth sliding against Proko's cock, leaving a slick trail of saliva where he drags his tongue. He's not shy about putting on a show for him, not tonight, letting these two boys see how much he wants everything he's denied himself. It feels like they maybe buried the guilt and the shame along with the creature Ronan had brought back from his dreams. He's not quite ambitious enough to try sliding him fully into his mouth yet, seeing how much of him he can fit between his lip. But something in the way that he touches Proko, all lips and tongue and stroking what his mouth doesn't reach says he's probably working up to it.]

[Proko was- not flattered, exactly, but- warm? Pleased? It was sweet that Ronan didn't want to leave him out when someone else might not have cared. But more than that, it was hot to watch him mouth at his cock, the feeling of lips and tongue against his skin enough to make him shiver. He combed his fingers through Ronan's hair, pushing stray bits back from his face. It was impossible not to watch him, especially with the way Proko's heart pounded in his chest like it was trying to escape. And yet he also couldn't help looking up at Kavinsky, watching him pause for a moment.]

Okay.

[Kavinsky was going to trust that Ronan knew what he could handle in this regard and started to work a second finger into him, a little impatient, but as slow and steady as he could manage. He was always the one who rushed things, even when it came to himself, and Proko was usually the one who- well, no, saying he was the one who took it slow would be a lie. But Proko was good at making sure Kavinsky didn't accidentally hurt someone else. Even if he was wholly distracted by Ronan.

Proko didn't care if Ronan had never done this before; there was always time to experience new things and learn and he could be a patient teacher--and guinea pig. If only learning all new things was as pleasant as this.]

[Ronan cared about both of them. It felt helpless, irresistible. Whatever this was that he felt, Prokopenko was as much a part of it as Kavinsky was. Magnetic in a similar sort of way. Not the same, but he was still.. he wanted him to be part of this too. He murmured softly, a flutter of his eyelashes as Proko pushed his hair back from his face, and Ronan smiled up at him, still exploring his cock with his mouth, but unselfconscious in the moment.

But then Kavinsky is adding another finger, and Ronan gasps, breathless. He doesn't mean to stop paying attention to Prokopenko, but the feeling of it steals his attention. The way that suddenly Kavinsky's fingers are pushing back into him and it's thicker, it stretches him open all over again. Ronan is clearly bad at restraint himself, because it doesn't take him much time to tilt his hips into Kavinsky's touch. Not quite pressing back against his fingers just yet, but his want is clear. He's flushed, and god but he wants to touch Kavinsky, but he feels like reaching out to him right now would just be getting in his own way.

He does't forget about Proko entirely, though, shifting so that he can lick against his cock, and this time he slowly wraps his mouth around the head of his cock, sucking softly, murmuring into the contact of it, flesh against his tongue.]

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post for psls;

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/wanders in 2 months late with starbucks

I always accept Starbucks! <3

:3

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changed my journal name :eyes:

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