[Ronan shivered, with a smile that was invisible as they kissed, a soft murmur of tender sentiments that he didn't quite know how to put into words. But thankfully, he didn't have to. So instead he just kissed him, hoping that Kavinsky understood what he'd been trying to say by having Hennessey put his ink on the other boy. Hoping that it wasn't too much. So when Kavinsky says that he likes it- Ronan can't help kissing him again, happy and almost giddy.]
Mm, maybe. I've never done art shit like this, though. But maybe I can do something different with it. Or maybe she can do it because she's not- what we are.
[Ronan didn't know if that was possible or not, he'd have to figure out what it was that Hennessey was actually doing. He'd notably had other concerns at the moment: like Kavinsky. Even now he was far less concerned with how Hennessey was making sweetmetals than he was with the boy in his arms. Even talking about it, his eyes were all on Kavinsky, like he couldn't believe he was this lucky, and like he wanted to strip his clothes off with his teeth.
God, he wanted him so badly. He always had. How many times had he dreamt about him? Had he woke shaking with shame and desire? If he hadn't been such a coward, there wouldn't be so much lost time between them. But he grins as Kavinsky kisses him again, laughing brightly as he nods, letting the other boy lead them the last few steps to the bed.]
Yeah, yeah. Make up for everything we lost, and then-- make this place a world for us.
[He kisses him, and then crawls onto the bed, not letting go of his hand, smiling as he tugs softly to encourage him to join him. The desire is burning hotter, more insistent, and god he needs this, he needs him, he needs to touch him for days until he's sure he's stitched their lives back together. Maybe that was his sweetmetal, really.]
no subject
Mm, maybe. I've never done art shit like this, though. But maybe I can do something different with it. Or maybe she can do it because she's not- what we are.
[Ronan didn't know if that was possible or not, he'd have to figure out what it was that Hennessey was actually doing. He'd notably had other concerns at the moment: like Kavinsky. Even now he was far less concerned with how Hennessey was making sweetmetals than he was with the boy in his arms. Even talking about it, his eyes were all on Kavinsky, like he couldn't believe he was this lucky, and like he wanted to strip his clothes off with his teeth.
God, he wanted him so badly. He always had. How many times had he dreamt about him? Had he woke shaking with shame and desire? If he hadn't been such a coward, there wouldn't be so much lost time between them. But he grins as Kavinsky kisses him again, laughing brightly as he nods, letting the other boy lead them the last few steps to the bed.]
Yeah, yeah. Make up for everything we lost, and then-- make this place a world for us.
[He kisses him, and then crawls onto the bed, not letting go of his hand, smiling as he tugs softly to encourage him to join him. The desire is burning hotter, more insistent, and god he needs this, he needs him, he needs to touch him for days until he's sure he's stitched their lives back together. Maybe that was his sweetmetal, really.]