[It felt like it was easy to take Ronan apart with his hands and mouth but that just- it didn't make the moment any less. It was a combination of things, probably; Ronan was putty in his hands but Kavinsky was also trying his damnedest to take him apart at the seams. It wasn't even that Kavinsky didn't usually put in the effort for this kind of thing, it was that he was trying extra hard because it was Ronan. Everything about the other boy was special and he would've been just as special even if Kavinsky didn't know he was also a dreamer.
He was Kavinsky's type, through and through, from the street racing to the barbs they flung at each other to the fact Ronan came to his parties. He was also painfully handsome and equally tragic. Kavinsky didn't want to 'fix' him or 'save' him from himself or any of those stupid cliche things, but he did want to be the flame in the dark, the thing that lit Ronan's life and sparked his desire. He wanted to spend long days with him and longer nights, drinking, getting high, racing- or just lying in bed together, touching. It didn't even have to be sexual.
Removing his hand from around Ronan's cock, Kavinsky leaned forward to take the rest of him into his mouth, confident about it, throat relaxed. His gag reflex was next to non-existent; there wasn't much he wasn't comfortable with. He rested both hands on Ronan's hips now, not holding him in place, just holding on.
The way Ronan said his name was- it made Kavinsky's skin flush with equal parts pride and desire. He wanted to hear and see and feel Ronan come apart, he wanted to know that he could take the other dreamer apart in the best ways.]
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He was Kavinsky's type, through and through, from the street racing to the barbs they flung at each other to the fact Ronan came to his parties. He was also painfully handsome and equally tragic. Kavinsky didn't want to 'fix' him or 'save' him from himself or any of those stupid cliche things, but he did want to be the flame in the dark, the thing that lit Ronan's life and sparked his desire. He wanted to spend long days with him and longer nights, drinking, getting high, racing- or just lying in bed together, touching. It didn't even have to be sexual.
Removing his hand from around Ronan's cock, Kavinsky leaned forward to take the rest of him into his mouth, confident about it, throat relaxed. His gag reflex was next to non-existent; there wasn't much he wasn't comfortable with. He rested both hands on Ronan's hips now, not holding him in place, just holding on.
The way Ronan said his name was- it made Kavinsky's skin flush with equal parts pride and desire. He wanted to hear and see and feel Ronan come apart, he wanted to know that he could take the other dreamer apart in the best ways.]