[Honestly, Ronan wouldn't even have judged him if he had made a sex joke. He could all but hear the joke when he said it; but it does mean that he understands that it's Kavinsky showing restraint, that he'd trying to be respectful or something like that. Comforting, maybe. And it is, the soft way that he kisses his cheek, like the affection between them is easy, like being there for each other was easy-- and he can't help feeling like maybe it would have been if he'd ever given him the chance.]
Okay. Thank you.
[Both for not judging him and for being here, giving him the space to at least try and give voice to what had happened. He knew that Kavinsky had commented about the bed being huge, but it turned out to be even bigger and even more charming than he'd imagined. He liked the dragons and the furs and blankets and the way that it looked like it literally exuded comfort and warmth. Ronan ends up giving up the robes in favor of just boxers and a black tee-shirt; Kavinsky might have noticed the way that Ronan very intentionally folded up the hoodie and put it into his bag with the rest of his stuff.
But he climbs into Kavinsky's bed -- and god, but there's a shiver that goes through him just at the thought. He burrows under as many different blankets as he can manage, peeking his head out against the pillows as he waits for Kavinsky to join him with the alcohol. He'll sit up properly once he has a glass in his hands, but for the moment he's just enjoying the warmth, and the promise of Kavinsky's body heat, the promise of being allowed to cuddle up against him.]
So my mom, Aurora.. she was a dream. My dad dreamt her, I guess.
[Ronan talks about her in the past tense, which is never a good sign. He's also startlingly misinformed about the shape of his family, but he speaks to what he knows, the things that he'd been able to put together, at least.]
no subject
Okay. Thank you.
[Both for not judging him and for being here, giving him the space to at least try and give voice to what had happened. He knew that Kavinsky had commented about the bed being huge, but it turned out to be even bigger and even more charming than he'd imagined. He liked the dragons and the furs and blankets and the way that it looked like it literally exuded comfort and warmth. Ronan ends up giving up the robes in favor of just boxers and a black tee-shirt; Kavinsky might have noticed the way that Ronan very intentionally folded up the hoodie and put it into his bag with the rest of his stuff.
But he climbs into Kavinsky's bed -- and god, but there's a shiver that goes through him just at the thought. He burrows under as many different blankets as he can manage, peeking his head out against the pillows as he waits for Kavinsky to join him with the alcohol. He'll sit up properly once he has a glass in his hands, but for the moment he's just enjoying the warmth, and the promise of Kavinsky's body heat, the promise of being allowed to cuddle up against him.]
So my mom, Aurora.. she was a dream. My dad dreamt her, I guess.
[Ronan talks about her in the past tense, which is never a good sign. He's also startlingly misinformed about the shape of his family, but he speaks to what he knows, the things that he'd been able to put together, at least.]