botanomancy | for several hours we lay there

God, I want you- I've wanted you-

[His voice goes a little higher pitched, whinier as he brings himself off. He can hear how Adam is breathing on the other end of the phone line and it's not enough, it feels like it'll never be enough, but he's still getting off on it and by the sounds echoing through his speaker, he's pretty sure that Adam is getting off on it too.

Ronan curls his fingers around the base of his dick, lifting his hips to wiggle his pants further down his thighs.]

-even from before, I'd think about you. What I wanted to do to you, fuck Adam I want to take you apart and put you back together.

[He takes in a rough gasp, the springs on the couch creaking as his body rolls up into his hands, growing more desperate by the minute.]

I can't help it, just kissing you makes me- I never want to leave our bed, I could spend the rest of my life with you and your hands and your fucking cock.

[The sounds Ronan is making, the things he says - Adam wanted to wait, to try to draw it out longer, but there's no way he can. Not with that in his ear, not knowing what Ronan looks like when he's like this. Adam's hand on himself speeds up, reaching a steady rhythm that draws more ragged breaths from him.]

God - every time you touch me all I can think about is you. It's a fucking miracle I can get out of bed at all -

[He gasps, bites his lip hard. He's so close, but he wants to hear Ronan, he wants this to carry them both over the edge. He wants so much, he always has, but being with Ronan and being able to have it is almost too much for him sometimes.]

Fuck - Ronan - I want to hear you come. If I were there I wouldn't be able to stop touching you.

[For a moment, it's like Adam is here with him. The sound of his voice, the skin-on-skin noise of him stroking himself, the way he's so heated and so guttural, like the animal that he only lets out of his skin when Ronan's with him, when Ronan has his clothes off and his mouth pressed against his spine.

He tips his head back and can barely get a breath into his lungs, working his fingers faster, sliding his other hand lower to press against his balls, his knees flexing up to press his feet flat against the couch.]

Want you to touch me, [he manages to breathe out, arching his spine up on a particularly nice stroke. His face is flushed- Adam might tease him about that if he were here, and Ronan imagines Adam a world away with his own hands and his own cock out, just as affected by this and impatient and needy and the mental image of his boyfriend sprawled out in the library about to lose control is what finally makes Ronan come.

He does it in a ragged exhale that sounds almost like a growl and it leaves him shaking, hips twitching as he makes a mess of the shirt that he didn't have the forethought to take off before starting this.]

Fuck- fuck, Parrish, Adam, god.

[He breathes in deep, his head tilted back against the headrest.]

Goddamn.

[It's too much. Of course it is - how could it not be? Ronan is overwhelming when they're together, filling every sense, Adam unable to think about anything but him. He likes it, he's always liked it, because it's so rare for Adam Parrish's thoughts to be full enough that he can't think about anything else. But Ronan - Ronan does it so easily, without even meaning to, claiming every part of him and every bit of his attention.

It's different like this, with so much distance between them and nothing but Ronan's voice in his ear and his own hand on his cock. It's different, but it's not so different that Adam can drag his thoughts away. It's not so different that he has room for anything else in his mind, his heart.

And the sounds Ronan makes are too much all by themselves, even without the thought of him. Even without the knowledge of what he looks like when he comes, the way he loses himself, the animal desire and pure release. Adam loves it, Adam could probably get off just on the memory of that, but with Ronan in his ear it's so much more.

He strokes himself faster, unconsciously, his hips rising to meet his hand. Adam is quiet, usually, but he can't be now - he doesn't want to be, he wants Ronan to hear him, so he doesn't hold back, he lets himself gasp and moan, he lets himself catch his breath and he doesn't care about the edge of need in his voice.]

Ronan - oh, fuck -

[And Ronan's voice, his name, is enough to push him over the edge, enough to make him come in a sudden rush, the pleasure of it arcing through him as he bites off a sharp cry. That, at least, he has to be careful about - someone might hear - but god, it's hard to be.

He breathes hard, settling himself, a little hazy and half-stunned as he comes down from this.]

[Ronan can hear it, Adam's beautiful voice and his soft breaths, and he's louder than he usually is- Ronan files that thought away for later. For now, it's good to just bask in it, fully aware that somewhere in this godforsaken universe, Adam is doing the same, drawn out and unwound.

He wants to see it, but he's not sure if he can muster the energy to reach for his phone to change to video- this wasn't about performing anyway, it was about being with one another during this.

Maybe. It could just be the post-coital bliss, and so Ronan tries to refrain from assigning any deeper meaning to their phone sexing. What matters is this: he misses him. He misses him so much, and they just brought one another off by their voices alone. That has to count for something.

He lets out a deep sigh finally, lifting up his cleaner hand to rub at his face, groggy and still dazed from it.]

...you still there?

[It counts for a lot, in Adam's book. It's not the same as being together - it's not the same as being able to listen to Ronan's ragged breaths as he comes down, being able to watch the look on his face, the contentment in his eyes. Being able to kiss him gently, after, sated and tender and warm. Adam misses being able to touch him.

But this is something good, something incredible. The sound of Ronan's voice, no longer tight with need, is in and of itself something incredible.]

Yeah.

[He wasn't going to go anywhere. He still doesn't want to, though Adam is forced to acknowledge that they probably can't spend every waking hour on the phone together. He has other things to do, and Ronan would probably go insane. Adam would probably go insane.

Right now, though, it's perfect.]

That was - really good. You're really good.

It was your hand.

[He says a bit crassly, but chuckles all the same, his concerns temporarily lifted from his shoulders. He feels lighter, more relaxed, even with the mess all over his fist and on his stomach. He'll have to deal with that sooner or later.]

But yeah. So are you.

[Adam is always good- Ronan is sure that he knows that by now. He misses his body, the physicality of him, but his voice is nice, imagining his fingers has been nice. At least they have this much, he supposes.]

Please. You know it was never that nice for me before you.

[Which isn't to say Ronan is a sex god or anything - though Adam pretty much thinks he hung the moon, they've had their share of teenage fumbles, and they've taken their time figuring each other out. It's just that before him Adam never had the freedom or the desire to slow down, take his time, really make himself feel good.

All that is much easier when Ronan is involved, and much better too.

He sighs, soft.]

I miss you.

Miss you too.

[He sighs out. Ronan has never really taken time with himself before Adam- though perhaps that had less to do with Adam's utilitarian approach to his body, and more due to the echoes of shame that plagued him whenever he let his mind wander to the kinds of things that really got him going. Easier to work out frustrations with a bottle and a race, with blood and barbed wire.

He's glad that he doesn't have to do that anymore. He's glad that Adam can enjoy it too, really- even if most of the time, they satiate their needs in one another.]

I'll see you soon. I know I will.

You will. Whatever it takes.

[It might seem like an empty promise - what sort of control do they have over all of this anyway? In Adam's mind, though, it isn't. He'll do whatever he needs to to get back to Ronan - he'll call on Cabeswater, he'll fight these strange enemies that are supposed to be coming for them. Whatever he needs to do. Adam is, if nothing else, an extremely stubborn person.]

Be careful until then. Please, for me.

Only if you will too.

[He says- which is kind of a promise, kind of a deal. There's no reason for Ronan to be careful if Adam is just going to get taken out by the first monster that comes his way (if there are even monsters over there). He'd rather die than live in a world without Adam, though that's nothing new.

He sighs, the breath crackling up in the phone receiver.]

I promise.

I promise.

[He echoes Ronan's words softly, truthfully. He thinks maybe he'll be able to sleep now - just for a little while, he knows it won't last, but hearing Ronan's voice calms something inside him. And they'll be together again soon. He has to believe that. He does believe it.]

Good night. I miss you.

Miss you too.

[Just saying the words makes him emotional and Ronan feels himself choking, but he tries to keep it locked in his chest until he finally hangs up the call. It's true, of course- he misses him, more than he can really say, and when Ronan rolls to his back and scrubs his hand over his face, he wonders if this whole thing had really been a good idea.

Sure, they relieved some tension, but it just brought up again how far apart they were. Ronan can't pretend that Adam is just gone in a long shift to the clinic, not when he's a million miles away and his voice came over with the faint hissing of static over his communicator.

He shakes his head, rolling to his side. Of course it was a good idea. He misses him- he misses him more than he'd miss his own heart, but talking to him again was good, was reassuring in a way that just pretending wouldn't be. Now, all Adam has to do is come home. Come home, and the two of them can spend entire days without leaving one another's sight.

Until then, there'll be more phone calls. He's sure of it, and he'll answer every single one.]

for several hours we lay there

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