[Ronan gasped softly against the other boy's mouth as he touched him, kissing him back. Kavinsky was good at it, even if he didn't kiss Ronan nearly as hard as he'd imagined. Somehow, the way they kissed like this, almost sweetly- it felt real. Dream-like only for how he hadn't dared to believe that this was something that he could have.
His skin felt hot, like he was burning, and not because of the heat or the sunlight, or anything except the boy he was pressed against. Ronan didn't know how to want someone in pieces, how to have restraint when it came to feeling things. He wouldn't have kissed him if he didn't want everything. He wanted it all, but K had never seemed... Ronan hadn't either, if he's being fair. Not in fucking Henrietta, Virginia. Not when it would mean being vulnerable.
He'd half expected Kavinsky to punch him, somehow. The fact that he wanted him was almost more difficult. But he doesn't pull away, just leans into the pressure of K's fingers against his shoulder. His voice is soft, almost fond.]
Yeah, it seems like it.
[He pulls back, but lest Kavinsky think that Ronan's pulling away from him, he just takes his dreamt sunglasses off, folding them and setting them on the hood of the car, before flicking his fingertips against the temple of K's shades, a slight hint of laughter to his voice.]
I'm not fucking making out with you with your shades on, asshole.
[Which was a way of saying- Ronan would kiss him again. If he wanted to. He just wanted to see his eyes when he did it.]
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His skin felt hot, like he was burning, and not because of the heat or the sunlight, or anything except the boy he was pressed against. Ronan didn't know how to want someone in pieces, how to have restraint when it came to feeling things. He wouldn't have kissed him if he didn't want everything. He wanted it all, but K had never seemed... Ronan hadn't either, if he's being fair. Not in fucking Henrietta, Virginia. Not when it would mean being vulnerable.
He'd half expected Kavinsky to punch him, somehow. The fact that he wanted him was almost more difficult. But he doesn't pull away, just leans into the pressure of K's fingers against his shoulder. His voice is soft, almost fond.]
Yeah, it seems like it.
[He pulls back, but lest Kavinsky think that Ronan's pulling away from him, he just takes his dreamt sunglasses off, folding them and setting them on the hood of the car, before flicking his fingertips against the temple of K's shades, a slight hint of laughter to his voice.]
I'm not fucking making out with you with your shades on, asshole.
[Which was a way of saying- Ronan would kiss him again. If he wanted to. He just wanted to see his eyes when he did it.]