[Ronan has always been fire, a burning heart in his chest, but he felt like he was molten, melting from the inside out. That every way that Kavinsky touched him, tongue and fingers against his cock, burned away another piece of the lies that he'd used to keep them apart. It had been safer that way, but it had also been a lie. Pleasure burned through him and he didn't think that he'd ever be the same; not now that he knew what it was like to have another boy's hands on his body.
Kavinsky's hands.
It was impossible to pretend that the way that he burned wasn't because of who the boy was. It wasn't like he'd let himself be pressed up against the door of a public bathroom with anyone else. But he couldn't help wanting him, being drawn to him, even if he was sure that he'd break his heart. He knew the quiet moments where they laced their fingers together was just a dream, and not one he knew how to pull into reality.
So he lets him take him apart, tongue and mouth and fingers- slick wet heat and the pressure, slow friction. It made him forget all the reasons he hurt, a moment that just felt good. It was filthy and perfect and God, God he wanted it. He knew he wasn't going to last long, and all he could do was touch him, cupping fingers against his neck and threading through his hair. Ronan's face flushed and his fingers trembling, but he touched Kavinsky in a way that was more like affection than just desire.
And then the other boy shifted, letting his hand fall away from Ronan's cock and sliding the rest of the way down, taking him down to the base, and Ronan's eyes went unfocused. Slick and wet and hot, and Ronan was ruined. Pleasure pushing him over the edge all at once. He curses softly, words that are almost more like adoration as they slip from his mouth just before his orgasm hits him. He doesn't think to give Kavinsky a warning, can't think that clearly -- but it's not too hard to have picked up on.]
..oh, fuck.
[He puts one hand to his mouth to try and muffle the sound that he makes, but it doesn't help much. At least not with how close the other boy is, impossible to pretend he isn't affected, ruined in a way that he had no defense against. The way that his voice twists into a moan, torn from his mouth almost like a sob, betraying him. Totally unprepared, although the pleasure of it all keeps him from being embarrassed about just how fast Kavinsky had him spilling down his throat.
It was- it wasn't like the boy with a mouth like sin had fucked him or something. But this was still- a few minutes ago he hadn't known what pleasure at someone else's hands- someone he liked- felt like. Now he did. It felt like a fire in his chest, an ache he couldn't explain. He wanted more, he wanted him, and he couldn't deny it.
He looked off to the side as he pulled back from K's mouth, catching his breath with a gasp. Ronan biting his lip a little awkwardly as the embarrassment finally caught up with him, his cock damp against his boxers, and he feels like a mess. He knew he should say something, but everything felt charged. Instead he softly, almost tenderly brushed his fingers against Kavinsky's cheek. He managed to arrange his face into something a little bit less transparent, almost like a smirk as he looked into his eyes. He wanted to kiss him, but instead he just dragged his fingers against his wet lips, still undone even if he's trying to pull himself together.]
Fuck, K. I- let's say that I owe you later.
[It's a little shy, even if Ronan tries to hide it. But he also means it; heart racing in his chest. I want to suck you off. Not that he'd know what he was doing, but he wants Kavinsky to give him the chance to figure it out. It's maybe the first time that Ronan's actually voiced something that actually said this thing between them was mutual, that he wanted-- That whatever weird thing this was between them, that they were chasing it together. Even if Ronan was a mess about it.
It might not have been a particularly romantic way to say it, but he was saying it.]
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Kavinsky's hands.
It was impossible to pretend that the way that he burned wasn't because of who the boy was. It wasn't like he'd let himself be pressed up against the door of a public bathroom with anyone else. But he couldn't help wanting him, being drawn to him, even if he was sure that he'd break his heart. He knew the quiet moments where they laced their fingers together was just a dream, and not one he knew how to pull into reality.
So he lets him take him apart, tongue and mouth and fingers- slick wet heat and the pressure, slow friction. It made him forget all the reasons he hurt, a moment that just felt good. It was filthy and perfect and God, God he wanted it. He knew he wasn't going to last long, and all he could do was touch him, cupping fingers against his neck and threading through his hair. Ronan's face flushed and his fingers trembling, but he touched Kavinsky in a way that was more like affection than just desire.
And then the other boy shifted, letting his hand fall away from Ronan's cock and sliding the rest of the way down, taking him down to the base, and Ronan's eyes went unfocused. Slick and wet and hot, and Ronan was ruined. Pleasure pushing him over the edge all at once. He curses softly, words that are almost more like adoration as they slip from his mouth just before his orgasm hits him. He doesn't think to give Kavinsky a warning, can't think that clearly -- but it's not too hard to have picked up on.]
..oh, fuck.
[He puts one hand to his mouth to try and muffle the sound that he makes, but it doesn't help much. At least not with how close the other boy is, impossible to pretend he isn't affected, ruined in a way that he had no defense against. The way that his voice twists into a moan, torn from his mouth almost like a sob, betraying him. Totally unprepared, although the pleasure of it all keeps him from being embarrassed about just how fast Kavinsky had him spilling down his throat.
It was- it wasn't like the boy with a mouth like sin had fucked him or something. But this was still- a few minutes ago he hadn't known what pleasure at someone else's hands- someone he liked- felt like. Now he did. It felt like a fire in his chest, an ache he couldn't explain. He wanted more, he wanted him, and he couldn't deny it.
He looked off to the side as he pulled back from K's mouth, catching his breath with a gasp. Ronan biting his lip a little awkwardly as the embarrassment finally caught up with him, his cock damp against his boxers, and he feels like a mess. He knew he should say something, but everything felt charged. Instead he softly, almost tenderly brushed his fingers against Kavinsky's cheek. He managed to arrange his face into something a little bit less transparent, almost like a smirk as he looked into his eyes. He wanted to kiss him, but instead he just dragged his fingers against his wet lips, still undone even if he's trying to pull himself together.]
Fuck, K. I- let's say that I owe you later.
[It's a little shy, even if Ronan tries to hide it. But he also means it; heart racing in his chest. I want to suck you off. Not that he'd know what he was doing, but he wants Kavinsky to give him the chance to figure it out. It's maybe the first time that Ronan's actually voiced something that actually said this thing between them was mutual, that he wanted-- That whatever weird thing this was between them, that they were chasing it together. Even if Ronan was a mess about it.
It might not have been a particularly romantic way to say it, but he was saying it.]