[The words I'm not sure what you are almost make him falter for a moment, that uncertainty that for a moment he's not sure if it's rejection. But the ones that follow soothe the moment into something better. Better than the way he says yeah that sounds like it's all desire, the way that he admits he wanted him, and it unravels something in Ronan's heart.
He laughs, but it's soft sound- warm, not biting. A sound meant to draw him in, not push him away. Ronan's hands still curled against Gansey, like he's afraid that he'll pull away if he lets him go, even with those words on the air. It all feels so fragile, but he wants this, wants him.
He smiles, a little bit helpless, a slight shake of his head as he tries to articulate the way that he feels. The way that Gansey thinking he can't have him feels so impossible. He was perfect. Not in the way that most people saw him- flawless and picture-perfect, devoid of fears or insecurities, but in a way that was deeper than that, a way that meant more. Perfect in the ways that they fit together, in the way that Gansey's hands on him steadied him, that his voice leashed him when he needed it most.
But if they fuck this up, he's not sure if they get to go back. And that makes this dangerous, the sort of thing that Ronan should know enough to walk away from. But he doesn't. Especially not tonight, not after being at the substance party, at the way that Gansey still burned. This is risk and adrenaline and his pulse pounding in his veins and want, want, want.]
You can have me, if you want to.
[He says it before he can reconsider, before he can tell himself why it's a stupid idea, or why he doesn't deserve to say it. He feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin, on edge and doesn't know how to handle the feeling of it. That way the ache, the need of it clutches in his chest. He wants Gansey, he's always wanted him in the moments where the idea of wanting was something he could parse. He lets his fingers shift a little, not pulling away but just stroking against the shape of his shoulders as he feels electric so close to Gansey.]
I want to hear you say I'm yours.
[He meets his eyes, Ronan's blues unsteady, and his pulse feels like thunder. He's greedy and he knows it, and he lets Gansey see it in his eyes. It's lust and desire, but it's focused. It's all his, if he wants it. It feels like stepping onto a ledge and not being sure if it'll collapse under his weight or not. If Gansey will catch him or not. But it's truth, raw and real. All the things he usually doesn't have the courage to say, and he doesn't know if this is courage or stupidity or just helpless magnetism.]
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He laughs, but it's soft sound- warm, not biting. A sound meant to draw him in, not push him away. Ronan's hands still curled against Gansey, like he's afraid that he'll pull away if he lets him go, even with those words on the air. It all feels so fragile, but he wants this, wants him.
He smiles, a little bit helpless, a slight shake of his head as he tries to articulate the way that he feels. The way that Gansey thinking he can't have him feels so impossible. He was perfect. Not in the way that most people saw him- flawless and picture-perfect, devoid of fears or insecurities, but in a way that was deeper than that, a way that meant more. Perfect in the ways that they fit together, in the way that Gansey's hands on him steadied him, that his voice leashed him when he needed it most.
But if they fuck this up, he's not sure if they get to go back. And that makes this dangerous, the sort of thing that Ronan should know enough to walk away from. But he doesn't. Especially not tonight, not after being at the substance party, at the way that Gansey still burned. This is risk and adrenaline and his pulse pounding in his veins and want, want, want.]
You can have me, if you want to.
[He says it before he can reconsider, before he can tell himself why it's a stupid idea, or why he doesn't deserve to say it. He feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin, on edge and doesn't know how to handle the feeling of it. That way the ache, the need of it clutches in his chest. He wants Gansey, he's always wanted him in the moments where the idea of wanting was something he could parse. He lets his fingers shift a little, not pulling away but just stroking against the shape of his shoulders as he feels electric so close to Gansey.]
I want to hear you say I'm yours.
[He meets his eyes, Ronan's blues unsteady, and his pulse feels like thunder. He's greedy and he knows it, and he lets Gansey see it in his eyes. It's lust and desire, but it's focused. It's all his, if he wants it. It feels like stepping onto a ledge and not being sure if it'll collapse under his weight or not. If Gansey will catch him or not. But it's truth, raw and real. All the things he usually doesn't have the courage to say, and he doesn't know if this is courage or stupidity or just helpless magnetism.]