[He's tense and close, so close, little shocks of pleasure arcing through him every time Ronan's mouth moves on him, every time his tongue presses against Adam's skin. The truth is, when it's like this, when it's him and Ronan and nothing else in the world matters, when it's trust and love and deep, unflinching desire, Adam does love this loss of control. It's mindless, but it's a sort of openness that he's always been bad at, it's offering Ronan a part of himself that no one else will ever see.
It's not something he thinks about, not a conscious choice. It's just that sometimes when they do this, when they need each other so badly they can barely breathe, Adam loses himself in Ronan's touch, his lips and his teeth, his hands and his cock, the line of his shoulders and the elaborate tattoo etched across his skin. And nothing else matters then, not even Adam's careful self-control. Just Ronan, just the two of them. Just how much he needs Ronan, how much he loves him.
He wonders if it will ever not feel like a monumental revelation, knowing that he loves Ronan Lynch.
His breaths are tight and quick, his body so near the edge that it's hard to talk, hard to think, but Ronan barely needs to say anything. The moment he removes his mouth, the moment he's using it to talk instead of anything else, Adam gives in to his need.]
Oh, fuck - Ronan, please.
[There's a catch in his voice, an aching hunger that should be embarrassing but instead is simply honest. He's so close, and he wants Ronan, and he wants this so much. And Ronan asking, Ronan wanting more from him, god - that's even better, that's so fucking hot. He can barely think. He doesn't want to think, he just wants Ronan.]
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It's not something he thinks about, not a conscious choice. It's just that sometimes when they do this, when they need each other so badly they can barely breathe, Adam loses himself in Ronan's touch, his lips and his teeth, his hands and his cock, the line of his shoulders and the elaborate tattoo etched across his skin. And nothing else matters then, not even Adam's careful self-control. Just Ronan, just the two of them. Just how much he needs Ronan, how much he loves him.
He wonders if it will ever not feel like a monumental revelation, knowing that he loves Ronan Lynch.
His breaths are tight and quick, his body so near the edge that it's hard to talk, hard to think, but Ronan barely needs to say anything. The moment he removes his mouth, the moment he's using it to talk instead of anything else, Adam gives in to his need.]
Oh, fuck - Ronan, please.
[There's a catch in his voice, an aching hunger that should be embarrassing but instead is simply honest. He's so close, and he wants Ronan, and he wants this so much. And Ronan asking, Ronan wanting more from him, god - that's even better, that's so fucking hot. He can barely think. He doesn't want to think, he just wants Ronan.]