[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 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.]