[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.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.]
no subject
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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]