[Alright. That was fine. Not texting back at least gave Kavinsky an inkling that Ronan was genuinely upset. He just...wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten into this position. He knew it was his fault, probably, but-
When he finally got home, he wrangled his way around the dog, tossed his sunglasses on the counter, and went to find Ronan.]
[It comes out almost as a growl on his lips, but the truth is that it's not really aimed at Kavinsky anyway. It's just Ronan and his emotions, it's being pushed so that his hands shake, so that there's something a little bit desperate and unsteady in his eyes as he looks at the other boy. He's wound up and in his head and he doesn't really know how to unravel it.
Part of him wants to just fold himself into the other boys' arms, if he's honest, but there's too much tension for that. Too much ego and too many sharp edges. Sex and kink are still difficult things for him sometimes. He does want it, almost desperately most of the time, shaking with what Kavinsky offers. But sometimes things tip sideways toward embarrassment or even shame, and then Ronan's a knot of temper.
[Well, that wasn't very helpful. Kavinsky almost said as much, but he refrained--barely. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then crossed his arms. He hardly knew where to start. Did he apologize? But for what?]
So what can I do?
[No one else was going to fix this mess; it was on his shoulders. Which he wasn't exactly upset about. He was more upset they were in this situation in the first place.]
[Ronan knew it wasn't particularly helpful, but he's still sharp edges for those first moments. So it actually helps that Kavinsky doesn't immediately call him on his bullshit, even if it would be warranted. He paces a little, then stills and sighs when the other boy asks what can I do?. He's clearly trying, to the point that Ronan feels worse about being so difficult.
He doesn't apologize, but there's something a little bit softer, or at least more willing to make an attempt at talking his way through this as he looks over at him. He finally meets his eyes, breathes- Ronan's still edgy, but it's less running on impulse, at least.]
You make that sound like it's a bad thing.
[The words come out tinged in a way that's clearly defensive, tense with the way that K calls him sensitive. He doesn't exactly protest, but his body language betrays that he wants to. There's a vulnerability to it; almost as much in how Ronan comes apart.]
[He wasn't going to dance around the subject. Ronan was sensitive, sometimes in a good way, sometimes bad.]
Just tell me if I fucked up, okay? If I'm being too weird for you, let me know.
[He'd try to reign it in. But how else was he supposed to know what was too weird for Ronan if they didn't talk about things? He was used to his boys and sometimes they were freaks--but so was Kavinsky. Anyone else, he might have just sprung something kinky on them, but with Ronan...he was maybe a little worried about fucking shit up and losing him. He didn't know how badly he'd have to fuck up to reach that point, but he didn't want to find out.]
You didn't fuck up. You're not too weird, it was just--
[His words cut off for a moment, because talking about this shit is difficult for him, even if it's easier with Kavinsky than it would be with anyone else. But he knows that this matters, and he doesn't want him to think he was doing something wrong by asking. So he drags a hand against his scalp, trying to figure out how to put it into words, how to explain.]
I was into it. I like- the idea of you showing me things, I guess. It's sort of hot? But then you backed off, like it was- I dunno. Like you'd been asking out of academic fucking interest, and I made it weird because I wasn't supposed to say yes or some shit.
[He shrugs his shoulders and looks off to the side; he hadn't been upset, he'd been embarrassed. Because K wasn't wrong about Ronan being sensitive, not really. But he doesn't know how to explain it any better, how to put the rest of it into words. Sex and kink weren't always easy for him- but sometimes they're the only thing that is. Sometimes K's hands on him and his collar against his skin are the only way he gets out of his head.]
[That kind of sounded like he'd fucked up. Just not in the way he'd been thinking. It sort of had been out of academic interest, if he was being honest, and then Ronan had said yes and things had snowballed from there.]
Are you going to punch me if I say it started out that way? I figured you were going to say you weren't interested, then you said yes, then I thought I'd made you uncomfortable.
[It really said something about how much he cared about Ronan that he genuinely worried about making him uncomfortable. He usually couldn't care less and sometimes even purposely made people uncomfortable.]
It wasn't a joke, I was-
[He made a vague gesture, at a loss for words. He hadn't meant to make Ronan feel like he'd done something wrong or like he'd made it weird.]
Fuck I'm not gonna punch you, K. I just.. I dunno, man.
[He exhales, shifts almost awkwardly as he looks at the other boy, trying to figure out what to say, how to explain, or what would make it better. But before he can get too in his head about it, he moves in closer, curls a hand against Kavinsky's hip and tilts his face into his shoulder. He needs the contact, needs something tactile before he trips into a spiral about it.]
If it's you I'll try just about anything. If that's what you were wondering.
[His tone is a little bit wounded still, but he's at least not pulling away. Even if it's half from sheer force of will.]
[He might have felt better if Ronan had punched him. At least that would have been productive violence--he assumed, anyway. But this...this was good, too. Ronan wasn't pulling away, even though Kavinsky could tell that he wanted to.
It pained him to apologize, but-]
Sorry I made a mess of things.
[He exhaled, pressing his mouth to the side of Ronan's head.]
Okay. If I didn't make this too awkward, I'm still down for giving it a go.
It's alright. I mean, it's just- figuring this shit out, right?
[He does appreciate the fact that Kavinsky actually apologizes, because he knows that it can't be easy for him. Just like resisting the urge to either punch him or walk away isn't easy for Ronan. But the way that he presses his mouth to his temple helps. It helps a lot, if he's honest.
Almost makes his lips quirk into something almost like a smile. And then he laughs, because of course--]
[Life was all trial and error, in Kavinsky's opinion. You kept trying until you got shit right, and along the way, you fucked up a lot. Kavinsky'd done a lot of fucking up but it never stopped him from trying. And working together, the give and take and discussions and compromise--it meant (he hoped) that they were going to last.
Relieved when Ronan laughed, he laughed, too, grinning wickedly.]
You didn't think I was going to just ditch this idea, did you?
[He was glad Ronan was willing to humor him. Sure, the idea of trying some things was a little scary, but he'd never do anything that might legitimately hurt Ronan. Or if he did, he'd at least adequately talk about it first. This? This wouldn't legitimately hurt.]
[He knows that relationships take work, and that of all people that Ronan is not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. But there's a warmth that flushes his skin when Kavinsky grins like that, and he hums softly, bumps his forehead into the other boy's bony shoulder.]
So-- how do we do this?
[His tone is just a little bit apprehensive, but not in a way that says he doesn't want to do it. Just- a little bit tense, that hint of nerves as he looks at Kavinsky with something that's probably trust. Shifting against him so that he can press a kiss to the hollow to his throat with just a hint of teeth.]
[It took all of his willpower not to tack 'boy' onto the end of that. It wouldn't have been entirely because of his trend of dog jokes with Ronan, but because of his trend of dog jokes with people in general. He did it to his boys, too, especially Skov.]
Well.
[He rubbed his hands up and down Ronan's arms, tilting his head back a little with a shiver.]
With a lot of prep and a lot of lube. [He wiggled his fingers dramatically, because they were going to be the prep.] And if I hurt you at any point, you tell me and we'll stop.
[He wanted Ronan to only have positive experiences, sexually.]
[The dog jokes were something they'd probably have to talk about, if Kavinsky wanted to have any chance of using them with Ronan without having him get moody about it. But he murmurs softly as the other boy rubs his hands against his arms, and he lets his talk, but he climbs kisses up to the line of his jaw. And there's something about-- he doesn't quite know. Maybe it's just Kavinsky and how into it he seems now, with how he wiggles his fingers.
Maybe it's just that Ronan's always had a thing about boys and their hands. And with just what Kavinsky intends to do with his hands, there's a certain thrill to it for Ronan, too.
In another situation, maybe he'd have claimed that K wasn't going to break him, but well. He's not that much of an idiot, when he's never done this before, never had someone stretch him so much.]
Okay. Yeah that's- alright.
[He promptly kisses Kavinsky, before Ronan can get any more flustered about it.]
[He was willing to compromise on that. Most of the time he didn't want to get under Ronan's skin. Not when they both had better ways to express themselves now. He lived in a world where he could just say I love you to Ronan.
He kissed him back, humming softly. He didn't know how things were going to go, but he was going to treat Ronan with all of the care and tenderness that most people probably didn't think he was capable of.]
Don't overthink it, okay? And try to loosen up.
[He wasn't teasing or being mean--he meant it literally. Ronan being tense, muscles tight, wasn't going to help. But he also knew that it was easier said than done. He was prepared to go the extra mile for him, give him a goddamn massage or something if it'd help him relax.
Taking Ronan by the hand, he started tugging him towards the bedroom.]
[He murmured softly into the kiss, getting distracted by the feel of Kavinsky against him for a moment. It was a strange thrill still, the fact that this was something they could have. Touch, caring for one another without anyone to tell them it was wrong. I love you still wasn't an easy thing for Ronan, but it hummed on the air between them as he laughed a little bit wryly.]
Yeah, fuck. Alright. I'll do my best.
[He was probably in over his head, but he meant it when he said that he trusted Kavinsky. He believed him when he said that he wouldn't push him if it was too much, that he'd stop if it hurt him. So he just let Kavinsky pull him in to the bedroom. Smiling in spite of himself as he followed after the other boy, trying to not overthink it, and just- let Kavinsky show him.
He wasn't.. well, he couldn't help being a little bit thrilled. The idea of letting Kavinsky take him apart slowly with his fingers played directly into the things that appealed to Ronan, even if he never talked about them.]
[Kavinsky meant it when he said he would take good care of Ronan--or implied that he would, anyway. He'd never been on the receiving end of this, himself, but he still knew it could be A Lot. He'd been careful with Proko; he'd be careful with Ronan. It was more than that, too; after feeling like he'd made a mess of things, he owed it to Ronan to make this good.
Once they'd reached the bedroom, Kavinsky kissed him slowly, letting it linger before sliding his hands down to push them up under Ronan's shirt, breaking away only to tug it up. He might have been eager and wanted to get his hands all over the other dreamer, he was trying not to rush. Rushing probably wouldn't help with relaxation.]
[Honestly, the way that Kavinsky kisses him once they're in the bedroom is something that he can relax into. A catch of his breath, a murmur into the contact, the way the other boy kisses him slow- not like they're trying to devour each other. But maybe that's Ronan, the way that he needs to touch K, to remind himself that he's here and real and under his hands. To give everything that he hadn't been able to that summer before-- Kavinsky always makes him eager, maybe even wanton.
But this time he lets himself relax into the contact, into the way that hands slip up under Ronan's shirt, making him shiver a little. He's a touch breathless when they part, flushed as he helps him get his shirt off. And then he's returning the favor- his own fingertips sliding under Kavinsky's shirt, because he can hardly turn up the opportunity to get his hands on him, to get him naked and gorgeous as ever.
He's trying not to rush things, but he can't help wanting when it comes to Kavinsky. He never really could.]
[Kavinsky normally wasn't a fan of the whole undressing stage before sex--it was a time-waster, nothing but obstacles in the way to something better--but he could pace himself. He could enjoy undressing Ronan--he did. He'd had dreams about it, before this place, before the disastrous 4th of July, but even then he'd been in a rush to get their clothes off.
He helped with his own shirt, dropping it carelessly to the floor once it was off. His gold chain glinted at his collarbone.
Toeing out of his shoes, he glanced down to see if Ronan was wearing any--they'd be another obstacle if he was--then used one foot to slide his discarded sneakers off to the side. Not far enough out of the way that they wouldn't be tripped over in the future, but enough for now.
Whether Ronan was wearing shoes or not, Kavinsky kissed him again, hands dropping to the front of his pants to get to work undoing them.]
[Luckily for Kavinsky, since Ronan had been at home to begin with, he was just in socks, with his boots kicked off safely in the living room. To be honest, he understood Kavinsky's ambivalence when it came to the whole undressing part of sex. He liked getting his hands on someone more than he did watching- Ronan ever expressing himself in physicality, even after all this time.
He dropped his head, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder with a low murmur. And then Kavinsky was kissing him, and Ronan kisses him back, all eager and heated. He can't help himself the way that it comes out almost desperate, but now that they're past the awkwardness of it- that moment where Ronan felt more ashamed than turned on by the idea of it- he just wants Kavinsky's hands on him. Temperamental as he might have been when the other boy first got home, Ronan hadn't been really angry. So he still has one of the velvet collars around his throat, dark against his skin. It might be lighter than the leather one, but somehow the weight of it is the same.
He wouldn't have thought he was the sort of person that took comfort from this sort of thing. But he does. It's like having Kavinsky's fingers against his neck, like a comfort. He hums in the back of his throat as the other boy undoes his jeans, and Ronan helps him get them off as he moves to the edge of the bed. He takes just a moment to tug his socks off, and then he grins over at the other boy as he slides back towards the center; his arousal obvious when he's naked down to his skin like this.]
[If he could snap his fingers and magically undress someone, he would. That would be a dangerous power to have though and in terrible hands. He wouldn't even use it for sex all of the time; he'd just go around the city causing havoc and embarrassment. Better that he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.
He was glad he seemed to have been able to salvage the day--so far. He wanted to learn Ronan inside and out, not just sexually, but... He wanted to be able to say that he knew him. After how many years Kavinsky himself had spent feeling unknowable, like he'd never be able to be real with anyone, he didn't want to waste this time he had. He wondered if Ronan felt the same--not about not wasting time, but about being able to be real with anyone.
He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, more content than needy, and let his hands drift up Ronan's sides as he took off his pants, fingertips brushing his skin in a last lingering contact before he moved back. Inclining his head to the side, he took a moment to just admire the sight of Ronan, nude. He was everything Kavinsky'd ever wanted.]
I dunno- [He said slowly, even as he started undoing his own pants.] -the view's really nice.
[He finally looked away though as he stooped to get his pants all the way off, wrestling with his socks before just leaving them and his pants there on the floor. He was too turned on to worry about the mess right now. Instead, he went over to the bed, leaning down to kiss Ronan again; he couldn't get enough of him.]
[To be fair, Ronan would also be a terrible person to entrust the power to magically undress people to. But it would be convenient for moments like this, when he wanted them both naked and skin to skin already, sooner than hands and layers could accommodate for.
Back in those days when he'd lost Kavinsky, Ronan didn't really understand the urge. It was why he'd walked away in the dreaming field. But the intervening time hadn't been exactly kind to Ronan- at least not when it came to people he could be real with. People that were real, that understood him, that he could hold on to. He wanted Kavinsky to know him, to understand him under the posturing and the bullshit. He wanted to know Kavinsky too, more than just the cars and the fire, being two teens on the verge of incinerating.
He wanted it all.]
Yeah? Might be even better up close.
[It's a tease, a lift of his eyebrows, inviting and suggestive as he watches Kavinsky strip, enjoying the show of his body. Even if he's still skinnier than Ronan knows is probably healthy for him, he's still gorgeous with the lean lines of his torso and he thinks he looks a little better than he did back in Henrietta. When the other dreamer presses in to kiss him, Ronan hums at the contact, curling a hand at the back of his neck, holding onto Kavinsky just for the moment as he leans up into him.]
[He couldn't argue with that; the view was great from a distance but it would be even better up close. That was why it was only with great reluctance that he pulled back from the kiss so he could rummage through the nightstand drawer for a bottle of lube. Once he had it, though, he climbed onto the bed with Ronan, pressing kisses against his neck, down to his chest.
Kavinsky wasn't religious in any way, but he could easily worship Ronan and his body for the rest of his life--which was, apparently, going to be a lot longer here than he'd originally anticipated. It was fine; it was good, actually. Maybe he couldn't envision himself growing old, but he could imagine spending years with Ronan.]
Fuck. [He breathed the word, unoccupied hand slipping down Ronan's side for the sake of touching him.] You're really hot.
[Beautiful and amazing he meant, but he wouldn't say those things.]
[Ronan has enough patience to allow Kavinsky to pull away to get the lube from the nightstand, but only just- he wanted him. Hands on his body, wanted to kiss his desire into the other boy. But it's worth the wait once Kavinsky is climbing onto the mattress to join him, pressing kisses against his neck and trailing down his chest, and he murmurs in response, all heat and arousal and want. It was easy enough to forget about the earlier tension like this, when they were skin to skin and touching.
He shivers at the way that fingers slide down his side, his breath catching as lashes flutter over his blue eyes. His hands reaching out to touch against Kavinsky, holding onto him as he kisses him, presses lips to his temple, trails down against his jaw. He wasn't going to let go of him- didn't think that he could. He needed him, the sex and the touch, but more than that too. He exhales with wry amusement; not quite a laugh, but it quirks a smile on his face.]
Mm. So are you.
[His tone is a little bit dreamy, little bit affected, flushed as he looks at the other boy. He means more than he says, too. He means gorgeous and I love you and you're worth so much more than anyone's ever told you. He'd say that Kavinsky was his favorite sin, but it was so much more than that: he didn't believe that anything that made him feel like this could be sinful.]
[He could argue that he wasn't as hot as Ronan, but the compliment pleased him. It was easy to get into his good graces by saying he was hot; especially if someone was being genuine about it.
He smiled, closing his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of Ronan's touch. Turning his head, he kissed him on the cheek, then continued working his way down, dropping the lube by Ronan's hip so Kavinsky could run both hands down his sides, lips brushing over his stomach. He was partially impatient and wanted to get to the main event, but he also enjoyed taking his time, making Ronan feel good, just--touching him. It wasn't even that he hadn't touched anyone this way before, it was the who that made it so special. He wouldn't admit it, not sober at least, but Ronan was more special to him than anyone else he'd ever been with.
Brushing lips and tongue over Ronan's hipbone, he traced the line of it, scraping teeth against his skin for just a moment, a tease. There wasn't a single inch of him that wasn't perfect, beautiful beyond words. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Kavinsky was aware that he felt about Ronan the way he wished people would feel about him. He didn't dwell on it; he let the thought drift away as he rubbed and lightly kneaded Ronan's thighs.]
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When he finally got home, he wrangled his way around the dog, tossed his sunglasses on the counter, and went to find Ronan.]
Alright. What's the damage?
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[It comes out almost as a growl on his lips, but the truth is that it's not really aimed at Kavinsky anyway. It's just Ronan and his emotions, it's being pushed so that his hands shake, so that there's something a little bit desperate and unsteady in his eyes as he looks at the other boy. He's wound up and in his head and he doesn't really know how to unravel it.
Part of him wants to just fold himself into the other boys' arms, if he's honest, but there's too much tension for that. Too much ego and too many sharp edges. Sex and kink are still difficult things for him sometimes. He does want it, almost desperately most of the time, shaking with what Kavinsky offers. But sometimes things tip sideways toward embarrassment or even shame, and then Ronan's a knot of temper.
Just like this.]
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So what can I do?
[No one else was going to fix this mess; it was on his shoulders. Which he wasn't exactly upset about. He was more upset they were in this situation in the first place.]
I didn't realize you were so sensitive.
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He doesn't apologize, but there's something a little bit softer, or at least more willing to make an attempt at talking his way through this as he looks over at him. He finally meets his eyes, breathes- Ronan's still edgy, but it's less running on impulse, at least.]
You make that sound like it's a bad thing.
[The words come out tinged in a way that's clearly defensive, tense with the way that K calls him sensitive. He doesn't exactly protest, but his body language betrays that he wants to. There's a vulnerability to it; almost as much in how Ronan comes apart.]
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[He wasn't going to dance around the subject. Ronan was sensitive, sometimes in a good way, sometimes bad.]
Just tell me if I fucked up, okay? If I'm being too weird for you, let me know.
[He'd try to reign it in. But how else was he supposed to know what was too weird for Ronan if they didn't talk about things? He was used to his boys and sometimes they were freaks--but so was Kavinsky. Anyone else, he might have just sprung something kinky on them, but with Ronan...he was maybe a little worried about fucking shit up and losing him. He didn't know how badly he'd have to fuck up to reach that point, but he didn't want to find out.]
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[His words cut off for a moment, because talking about this shit is difficult for him, even if it's easier with Kavinsky than it would be with anyone else. But he knows that this matters, and he doesn't want him to think he was doing something wrong by asking. So he drags a hand against his scalp, trying to figure out how to put it into words, how to explain.]
I was into it. I like- the idea of you showing me things, I guess. It's sort of hot? But then you backed off, like it was- I dunno. Like you'd been asking out of academic fucking interest, and I made it weird because I wasn't supposed to say yes or some shit.
[He shrugs his shoulders and looks off to the side; he hadn't been upset, he'd been embarrassed. Because K wasn't wrong about Ronan being sensitive, not really. But he doesn't know how to explain it any better, how to put the rest of it into words. Sex and kink weren't always easy for him- but sometimes they're the only thing that is. Sometimes K's hands on him and his collar against his skin are the only way he gets out of his head.]
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Are you going to punch me if I say it started out that way? I figured you were going to say you weren't interested, then you said yes, then I thought I'd made you uncomfortable.
[It really said something about how much he cared about Ronan that he genuinely worried about making him uncomfortable. He usually couldn't care less and sometimes even purposely made people uncomfortable.]
It wasn't a joke, I was-
[He made a vague gesture, at a loss for words. He hadn't meant to make Ronan feel like he'd done something wrong or like he'd made it weird.]
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[He exhales, shifts almost awkwardly as he looks at the other boy, trying to figure out what to say, how to explain, or what would make it better. But before he can get too in his head about it, he moves in closer, curls a hand against Kavinsky's hip and tilts his face into his shoulder. He needs the contact, needs something tactile before he trips into a spiral about it.]
If it's you I'll try just about anything. If that's what you were wondering.
[His tone is a little bit wounded still, but he's at least not pulling away. Even if it's half from sheer force of will.]
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It pained him to apologize, but-]
Sorry I made a mess of things.
[He exhaled, pressing his mouth to the side of Ronan's head.]
Okay. If I didn't make this too awkward, I'm still down for giving it a go.
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[He does appreciate the fact that Kavinsky actually apologizes, because he knows that it can't be easy for him. Just like resisting the urge to either punch him or walk away isn't easy for Ronan. But the way that he presses his mouth to his temple helps. It helps a lot, if he's honest.
Almost makes his lips quirk into something almost like a smile. And then he laughs, because of course--]
Fuck, alright. We can try it.
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Relieved when Ronan laughed, he laughed, too, grinning wickedly.]
You didn't think I was going to just ditch this idea, did you?
[He was glad Ronan was willing to humor him. Sure, the idea of trying some things was a little scary, but he'd never do anything that might legitimately hurt Ronan. Or if he did, he'd at least adequately talk about it first. This? This wouldn't legitimately hurt.]
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[He knows that relationships take work, and that of all people that Ronan is not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. But there's a warmth that flushes his skin when Kavinsky grins like that, and he hums softly, bumps his forehead into the other boy's bony shoulder.]
So-- how do we do this?
[His tone is just a little bit apprehensive, but not in a way that says he doesn't want to do it. Just- a little bit tense, that hint of nerves as he looks at Kavinsky with something that's probably trust. Shifting against him so that he can press a kiss to the hollow to his throat with just a hint of teeth.]
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[It took all of his willpower not to tack 'boy' onto the end of that. It wouldn't have been entirely because of his trend of dog jokes with Ronan, but because of his trend of dog jokes with people in general. He did it to his boys, too, especially Skov.]
Well.
[He rubbed his hands up and down Ronan's arms, tilting his head back a little with a shiver.]
With a lot of prep and a lot of lube. [He wiggled his fingers dramatically, because they were going to be the prep.] And if I hurt you at any point, you tell me and we'll stop.
[He wanted Ronan to only have positive experiences, sexually.]
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Maybe it's just that Ronan's always had a thing about boys and their hands. And with just what Kavinsky intends to do with his hands, there's a certain thrill to it for Ronan, too.
In another situation, maybe he'd have claimed that K wasn't going to break him, but well. He's not that much of an idiot, when he's never done this before, never had someone stretch him so much.]
Okay. Yeah that's- alright.
[He promptly kisses Kavinsky, before Ronan can get any more flustered about it.]
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He kissed him back, humming softly. He didn't know how things were going to go, but he was going to treat Ronan with all of the care and tenderness that most people probably didn't think he was capable of.]
Don't overthink it, okay? And try to loosen up.
[He wasn't teasing or being mean--he meant it literally. Ronan being tense, muscles tight, wasn't going to help. But he also knew that it was easier said than done. He was prepared to go the extra mile for him, give him a goddamn massage or something if it'd help him relax.
Taking Ronan by the hand, he started tugging him towards the bedroom.]
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Yeah, fuck. Alright. I'll do my best.
[He was probably in over his head, but he meant it when he said that he trusted Kavinsky. He believed him when he said that he wouldn't push him if it was too much, that he'd stop if it hurt him. So he just let Kavinsky pull him in to the bedroom. Smiling in spite of himself as he followed after the other boy, trying to not overthink it, and just- let Kavinsky show him.
He wasn't.. well, he couldn't help being a little bit thrilled. The idea of letting Kavinsky take him apart slowly with his fingers played directly into the things that appealed to Ronan, even if he never talked about them.]
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Once they'd reached the bedroom, Kavinsky kissed him slowly, letting it linger before sliding his hands down to push them up under Ronan's shirt, breaking away only to tug it up. He might have been eager and wanted to get his hands all over the other dreamer, he was trying not to rush. Rushing probably wouldn't help with relaxation.]
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But this time he lets himself relax into the contact, into the way that hands slip up under Ronan's shirt, making him shiver a little. He's a touch breathless when they part, flushed as he helps him get his shirt off. And then he's returning the favor- his own fingertips sliding under Kavinsky's shirt, because he can hardly turn up the opportunity to get his hands on him, to get him naked and gorgeous as ever.
He's trying not to rush things, but he can't help wanting when it comes to Kavinsky. He never really could.]
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He helped with his own shirt, dropping it carelessly to the floor once it was off. His gold chain glinted at his collarbone.
Toeing out of his shoes, he glanced down to see if Ronan was wearing any--they'd be another obstacle if he was--then used one foot to slide his discarded sneakers off to the side. Not far enough out of the way that they wouldn't be tripped over in the future, but enough for now.
Whether Ronan was wearing shoes or not, Kavinsky kissed him again, hands dropping to the front of his pants to get to work undoing them.]
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He dropped his head, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder with a low murmur. And then Kavinsky was kissing him, and Ronan kisses him back, all eager and heated. He can't help himself the way that it comes out almost desperate, but now that they're past the awkwardness of it- that moment where Ronan felt more ashamed than turned on by the idea of it- he just wants Kavinsky's hands on him. Temperamental as he might have been when the other boy first got home, Ronan hadn't been really angry. So he still has one of the velvet collars around his throat, dark against his skin. It might be lighter than the leather one, but somehow the weight of it is the same.
He wouldn't have thought he was the sort of person that took comfort from this sort of thing. But he does. It's like having Kavinsky's fingers against his neck, like a comfort. He hums in the back of his throat as the other boy undoes his jeans, and Ronan helps him get them off as he moves to the edge of the bed. He takes just a moment to tug his socks off, and then he grins over at the other boy as he slides back towards the center; his arousal obvious when he's naked down to his skin like this.]
You gonna join me?
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He was glad he seemed to have been able to salvage the day--so far. He wanted to learn Ronan inside and out, not just sexually, but... He wanted to be able to say that he knew him. After how many years Kavinsky himself had spent feeling unknowable, like he'd never be able to be real with anyone, he didn't want to waste this time he had. He wondered if Ronan felt the same--not about not wasting time, but about being able to be real with anyone.
He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, more content than needy, and let his hands drift up Ronan's sides as he took off his pants, fingertips brushing his skin in a last lingering contact before he moved back. Inclining his head to the side, he took a moment to just admire the sight of Ronan, nude. He was everything Kavinsky'd ever wanted.]
I dunno- [He said slowly, even as he started undoing his own pants.] -the view's really nice.
[He finally looked away though as he stooped to get his pants all the way off, wrestling with his socks before just leaving them and his pants there on the floor. He was too turned on to worry about the mess right now. Instead, he went over to the bed, leaning down to kiss Ronan again; he couldn't get enough of him.]
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Back in those days when he'd lost Kavinsky, Ronan didn't really understand the urge. It was why he'd walked away in the dreaming field. But the intervening time hadn't been exactly kind to Ronan- at least not when it came to people he could be real with. People that were real, that understood him, that he could hold on to. He wanted Kavinsky to know him, to understand him under the posturing and the bullshit. He wanted to know Kavinsky too, more than just the cars and the fire, being two teens on the verge of incinerating.
He wanted it all.]
Yeah? Might be even better up close.
[It's a tease, a lift of his eyebrows, inviting and suggestive as he watches Kavinsky strip, enjoying the show of his body. Even if he's still skinnier than Ronan knows is probably healthy for him, he's still gorgeous with the lean lines of his torso and he thinks he looks a little better than he did back in Henrietta. When the other dreamer presses in to kiss him, Ronan hums at the contact, curling a hand at the back of his neck, holding onto Kavinsky just for the moment as he leans up into him.]
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Kavinsky wasn't religious in any way, but he could easily worship Ronan and his body for the rest of his life--which was, apparently, going to be a lot longer here than he'd originally anticipated. It was fine; it was good, actually. Maybe he couldn't envision himself growing old, but he could imagine spending years with Ronan.]
Fuck. [He breathed the word, unoccupied hand slipping down Ronan's side for the sake of touching him.] You're really hot.
[Beautiful and amazing he meant, but he wouldn't say those things.]
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He shivers at the way that fingers slide down his side, his breath catching as lashes flutter over his blue eyes. His hands reaching out to touch against Kavinsky, holding onto him as he kisses him, presses lips to his temple, trails down against his jaw. He wasn't going to let go of him- didn't think that he could. He needed him, the sex and the touch, but more than that too. He exhales with wry amusement; not quite a laugh, but it quirks a smile on his face.]
Mm. So are you.
[His tone is a little bit dreamy, little bit affected, flushed as he looks at the other boy. He means more than he says, too. He means gorgeous and I love you and you're worth so much more than anyone's ever told you. He'd say that Kavinsky was his favorite sin, but it was so much more than that: he didn't believe that anything that made him feel like this could be sinful.]
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He smiled, closing his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of Ronan's touch. Turning his head, he kissed him on the cheek, then continued working his way down, dropping the lube by Ronan's hip so Kavinsky could run both hands down his sides, lips brushing over his stomach. He was partially impatient and wanted to get to the main event, but he also enjoyed taking his time, making Ronan feel good, just--touching him. It wasn't even that he hadn't touched anyone this way before, it was the who that made it so special. He wouldn't admit it, not sober at least, but Ronan was more special to him than anyone else he'd ever been with.
Brushing lips and tongue over Ronan's hipbone, he traced the line of it, scraping teeth against his skin for just a moment, a tease. There wasn't a single inch of him that wasn't perfect, beautiful beyond words. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Kavinsky was aware that he felt about Ronan the way he wished people would feel about him. He didn't dwell on it; he let the thought drift away as he rubbed and lightly kneaded Ronan's thighs.]