[He smiles a little lopsidedly, and refrains from pointing out that Kavinsky is the one with the fire gem, the one that's always all fire and heat. He shoves his phone in his back pocket, holds a hand out to his boyfriend as he watches him. Ronan can't help the way that his blue eyes skim the lines of his body, and typically that might have been tinged with heat or desire, but right now it's just affection. Just comfort, even if he isn't entirely sure which of them it's for.
So he's just watching him with his glacier blue eyes instead of his fingertips. Kavinsky's always gorgeous, and the brief sheen of water on his skin doesn't hurt. It's a weird night for Ronan too, this close to twenty.]
We can still play your game, if you want to.
[He sort of wants to tell him they should start planning a New Years party like he would have back home, but he knows that's not really the problem. But Ronan does miss the warehouse fires and the substance parties, even if he doesn't quite know how to say that. Maybe they can figure it out later.]
[Sure, Kavinsky might have been a Ruby, but beds were always colder when they lacked someone you loved.
He eyed Ronan's hand, but didn't reach out to him until he was dried off and had draped the towel over the shower curtain rod. He didn't have any clothes in the bathroom to change into, but he'd get a pair of boxers once they were in the bedroom. He had no modesty, no shame, but it wasn't like Ronan hadn't seen him naked before.
Leaving his phone on the floor, he snagged his beer and then took Ronan's hand.]
Yeah. That'd be good.
[It wasn't really a game, but framing it as such made it feel less serious than 'I want to know more about you', less pressure. Kavinsky didn't just want to be Ronan's boyfriend; he wanted to be his friend. He wanted to know things, to be able to share more than just dog jokes and collars.]
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[He smiles a little lopsidedly, and refrains from pointing out that Kavinsky is the one with the fire gem, the one that's always all fire and heat. He shoves his phone in his back pocket, holds a hand out to his boyfriend as he watches him. Ronan can't help the way that his blue eyes skim the lines of his body, and typically that might have been tinged with heat or desire, but right now it's just affection. Just comfort, even if he isn't entirely sure which of them it's for.
So he's just watching him with his glacier blue eyes instead of his fingertips. Kavinsky's always gorgeous, and the brief sheen of water on his skin doesn't hurt. It's a weird night for Ronan too, this close to twenty.]
We can still play your game, if you want to.
[He sort of wants to tell him they should start planning a New Years party like he would have back home, but he knows that's not really the problem. But Ronan does miss the warehouse fires and the substance parties, even if he doesn't quite know how to say that. Maybe they can figure it out later.]
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[Sure, Kavinsky might have been a Ruby, but beds were always colder when they lacked someone you loved.
He eyed Ronan's hand, but didn't reach out to him until he was dried off and had draped the towel over the shower curtain rod. He didn't have any clothes in the bathroom to change into, but he'd get a pair of boxers once they were in the bedroom. He had no modesty, no shame, but it wasn't like Ronan hadn't seen him naked before.
Leaving his phone on the floor, he snagged his beer and then took Ronan's hand.]
Yeah. That'd be good.
[It wasn't really a game, but framing it as such made it feel less serious than 'I want to know more about you', less pressure. Kavinsky didn't just want to be Ronan's boyfriend; he wanted to be his friend. He wanted to know things, to be able to share more than just dog jokes and collars.]