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botanomancy2016-10-15 01:20 am
unknowable) wrote in botanomancy2016-10-15 01:20 am
Entry tags:
condescend to calm this riot in your mind
[The last month or so has not been easy. First the zombies, and everything that entailed - what he made Ronan do, Ronan's guilt, all the pain afterward. And then, in the midst of that, Gansey disappearing. They weathered it better than Adam would once have expected, better than he even really expected at the time. He always plans for the worst, but Ronan is better than that. He always has been.
They made it out the other side, still alive, still intact, still together. Adam does not know how to put into words how grateful he is for that, how incredible it is that their connection is as strong as ever. Ronan makes being in Hadriel less of a torture and more of - well, a vacation, maybe, a temporary removal from Henrietta and Aglionby and Adam's oncoming future. Here, they have each other, and a few friends, and they don't need much else.
Adam keeps himself busy, though. He doesn't know how to do anything else, even though he's slowly growing fond of lazy mornings in bed with Ronan, hours spent doing nothing in particular but talking and kissing and touching. He can't do it forever, though, Adam is the sort of creature who needs to keep himself busy and useful. He finds something around the house to take care of, takes Aspen for a walk, goes to the orchard to pull weeds. Most regularly, he goes to the clinic.
He's spent half the day there, organizing and helping out, and when he steps out of the repurposed house he's not overly surprised to see Ronan lingering nearby. It's not so strange to see him at the clinic at all, and certainly not when Adam is there. Adam smiles, a quick but genuinely pleased thing, and walks over.]
Hey.
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Adam wasn't sure at first. He likes having his space, and while he liked having Ronan with him too, he worried that it would end up feeling cramped. Like he didn't have anything of his own, his own space. But they've been staying together for months now, and though Ronan may not have formally moved in, he occupies Adam's space almost as if he did.
And it doesn't feel cramped. Adam doesn't feel like he's being squeezed out of his own space. Ronan takes up more space than him, physically and in every other way, but it doesn't make him feel like he doesn't belong there. Instead it's just a strange kind of comfort, the knowledge that he's not alone. Adam's made enough of a mark that it still feels like his space, but it doesn't feel like it needs to be his alone.
He doesn't mind being alone sometimes. He's pretty good at being alone. But it's better when Ronan is there. He's happier, he feels more comfortable. He feels safer. He's not lonely when he wakes up in the middle of the night, when he can just roll over and press against the warm bulk of Ronan's body.]
Yeah? I mean, he had a point.
[Ronan doesn't always stay with him, but these days it's more often than not. More than that, Adam misses him a little when he's not there. He ignores it, because that's incredibly stupid when Ronan's just in the next room, but it's there. If it could be like that all the time... well, he doesn't think he'd have anything to complain about. Not even the strange things Ronan dreams up sometimes, not even getting woken up in the middle of the night by Ronan climbing into bed with him.
He doesn't mind now. He doesn't think he ever really will, though he might give Ronan a hard time about it sometimes.]
When we move, maybe we could pick a room together. To share.
[It sounds disgustingly domestic when he says it like that, but even so, he feels warm.]
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He has to admit that it's an attractive proposition. He stays with Adam enough as it is, it wouldn't be such a significant change. The room would likely be more cramped, they'd have to wrangle Chainsaw and Aspen in together and somehow make it all work out, but Ronan thinks that they could, maybe. At the very least, he wouldn't have to have even the slightest excuse to press against Adam late at night- he could just do it.]
Sure.
[For as much as he wants this, Ronan's agreement is as neutral as ever, but the tightening of his fingers around Adam's own betrays his casual reaction, and his heart thuds too loudly in his chest for him to be able to remember exactly what he should say next. They need to move, and soon- that much is obvious- but the prospect of staying with Adam in their new place makes Ronan all the more inspired to get everything packed up as soon as possible.]
Maybe we could just- you know, sledgehammer the wall between two rooms. Have a big room together.
[Which completely defeats the purpose of sharing a room, but Ronan likes that idea better anyway. It combines destruction, property vandalism, and being with Adam all together in one neat little idea.]
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He thinks, sometimes, about how he never really imagined he could have something like this. Oh, he wanted it, sometimes. He wanted someone who would care for him, would love him and be by his side, but he never really knew what that would look like. What role models did he have, besides movies, and Adam has always been too smart to think they're anything like real life.
So maybe he wanted something like that, but it was never something he imagined. Never something he could think of as important, really, not in the face of his future and everything he needed to do to get there. Not in the face of survival, which everything else had to come second to.
But now he has it, and now he knows what it looks like. What it feels like. He's still learning, he still has a long way to go, he's still afraid he'll mess it up. But he feels it, it's his, this thing that he and Ronan have. He doesn't think he's ever been happier than when they're together, senselessly and quietly happy.]
Figures your idea of moving in together would involve property damage.
[He looks at Ronan then, looks around them, and tugs him to a gentle stop. They're alone.]
Hey.
[This feels like it should be harder. He's thought about it so often, played it out in his mind, taken it apart and put it back together. He thought it would be difficult when it happened, he'd have to build up to it, work carefully around to what he needs to say. Find the perfect setting, the perfect time, the perfect moment.
It's not hard at all. It's easy, and his voice is steady when he says it.]
I love you.
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Ronan is about to suggest it when Adam stops them both, and he tilts his head over toward him in question before Adam says it.
And it's- he's known. It hasn't been a difficult conclusion to jump to, not when Adam gives himself to him on an almost daily basis, not when Adam is reluctant to get out of bed with him in the mornings, not when Adam brightens when Ronan enters the room or pays attention to him in a group conversation. Ronan has considered it love for awhile now, but he knows that the jump is harder to make for Adam, who has never really known it and never really understood what it feels like.
He hasn't wanted to push him or make him feel uncomfortable about it, like he was pressured to say it back. When Ronan had told Adam that he loved him, he'd meant it, and he'd done it without any expectation of reciprocation. If Adam didn't say it for months, years, ever- that would be fine. Ronan knew then and he knows now how Adam feels, and that's enough.
But this... this is something else. This is Adam just saying it, so casual and matter-of-fact that it makes Ronan's heart skip a beat. This is Adam, calm and sure of himself, and Ronan is stunned for a moment- he doesn't know how else to respond but to turn and pull Adam closer for a kiss, right here in the middle of the street. It's heated and affectionate and passionate all at once, and he slips his free arm over Adam's shoulder while he does it, keeping them close so that he can press his forehead against Adam's when the kiss finally breaks.
He's breathless with it. He knew, he's known, but that doesn't mean that this isn't significant. Now, he knows that Adam knows too, that the two of them are on mutual ground with one another, that Adam has realized something about what love is, how love can feel, and that's- that's so fucking beautiful it makes him want to cry.]
I love you too.
[It comes out in a bit more of a rush than Adam's own confession, their faces still pressed together, Ronan's hand coming up to grip at the back of Adam's neck, stroking his thumb along the top of his spine.
It feels like his heart is going to explode. It feels like the world around them is on fire and everything burns with how much Ronan loves him. How much he loves Ronan back.]
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So Ronan's response doesn't matter, not really, but even so it's perfect. Ronan looks happy in a way that Adam certainly didn't expect, though maybe he should have - maybe he should've known that his love would be valuable, that it would mean something to Ronan, that it means something that he was able to say it.
It means something to Adam. It felt good to say it, it felt like he was settling something within himself. Maybe he's known for awhile - no, he has known for awhile. How could he not love Ronan, after everything, after all of this? How could he not love him, simply for who he is? It was a matter of saying it, that's all, a matter of letting himself accept it. Not that he loves Ronan - that's easy, that's a simple truth that's become part of him - but that he can love at all, and that he can do it wholeheartedly and with every cell in his body.
He catches hold of Ronan's jacket with his free hand, leaning into him. The warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his voice. Of course he loves Ronan. He should have said it long ago, but he doesn't regret saying it now. It would be impossible to regret the look on Ronan's face, the undisguised affection in his eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever get over the way Ronan looks right now.
And he loves hearing it in return. Even if Ronan had never said it again, that once, on the couch in the dark, was everything to Adam. He would never have needed to hear it again, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love the sound of it on Ronan's lips, the renewed certainty that he is loved. That this is real.]
It's been true for a long time.
[He thinks Ronan probably knows that, but he wants to say that, too. Maybe it took him this long, maybe he had to turn it over and take it apart because he's Adam Parrish and that's what he does, but it was still true long before the words ever left his lips.
He's breathless, from the kiss and from his own thoughts, and he doesn't even consider or care that anyone might see them. Let them see, he's nothing but lucky to have Ronan, nothing but lucky to be loved by him. Adam is smiling, carefree and open, and he doesn't look away from Ronan for a moment as he closes the slight bit of space between them to kiss him again.]
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He knows it's hard. Ronan speaks more in touch than in words and so after saying I love you the first time, he hadn't felt the need to smother Adam in the routine statements of it, instead expressing his love in different ways. He loves Adam, and so he slides his hand over the small of his back, drags a blanket over his sleeping form, trails his tongue down over his stomach. He paints his love in kisses, in caresses and gentle, needless affection and he hopes that Adam understands what he means when he says it without words.]
I know.
[He murmurs it back when the kiss is broken for a brief moment, because of course he did. Ronan knows more than most, the language of touches and longing looks and gentle kisses in the morning. He knows that Adam treats him like someone he loves, but he also knows that Adam needed time to realize it for himself. The fact that he has is- his heart surges just at the memory of him saying it again, and Ronan reaches down, letting his hand fall from Adam's shoulders down to his hips, his back pockets, the tops of his thighs.
Without much warning, Ronan lifts him, expecting Adam to move with it and make it easier, coaxing him to wrap his legs around his waist. Their home is a ways still, but he wants to be close to Adam, wants to show him that love again and to prove it to him with every spare moment that they have.]
I've got you.
[They're only a few steps away from the wall of an abandoned storefront and so Ronan crosses the distance easily to prop Adam's back up against it, grinning as he tips his head to kiss at the other boy's throat.]
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He lets his head fall back instead, giving Ronan better access to his neck. It's encouragement, which is entirely the opposite of what he should do, but what does it matter? He wants Ronan more than anything, he loves Ronan, and it's only too clear that his belated confession has pleased Ronan.
He really should have known it a long time ago. It's not quite like Gansey said, so long ago - Ronan makes him quiet sometimes, it's true. Ronan calms the thoughts running through his head, provides a beautiful distraction that leaves him senselessly happy and nearly unable to think things to bits, the way he usually does. But it's more than that. Ronan makes the world feel brighter, makes things feel more real. He makes Adam feel more alive.
Contentment was always a far-off thing for him, happiness even more so, but now he's content every time he sees Ronan at the clinic, taking up space, watching him. He's happy every time they kiss in the kitchen when no one else is around. It's never been easy before, but it is now.]
I think I'm the one who's got you.
[He runs the fingers of one hand up the back of Ronan's neck, through the short bristles of his hair. Having Ronan this close is intoxicating, incredibly distracting, no matter how many times it happens. He doesn't think he'll ever get enough of it. It makes him want more, it always does, and it makes him forget his caution. He moves his other hand now too, and though he can't reach much from the position he's in, he does manage to slide slim fingers under Ronan's jacket, then his shirt, brushing over the smooth skin of his lower back.]
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[He asks, teasing, but knowing without a doubt that Adam is right. Adam has him, clutched between his fingers, held between his thighs, nestled into the very crook of his heart. There's no part of Ronan that Adam doesn't have permission to touch and explore, and the muscles in his back flex under Adam's searching fingers in demonstration.
He's still wearing his jacket- Adam is still wearing all of his clothes- and they're out here, blocks from home in broad daylight, but all he wants to do is just rut against the other boy until they wear themselves out with it. And really, when the idea presents itself like that, it's hard not to rock his hips against Adam's own, pinning him effectively against the nearby wall and grinding low and rough against him.
Ronan's breath comes out ragged and warm against Adam's neck, tongue pressed against his skin, teeth catching just barely, hinting at something harsher.]
You wanna go home?
[He finally asks, though they're both a bit beyond that now. Most of the time, they can manage the self control it takes to get somewhere alone and quiet, but sometimes when Ronan just needs him and Adam opens up and responds the way he does, there's really no stopping them and they wind up fucking in the clinic, exchanging rushed blowjobs at the orchard, sliding their hands down past waistbands in abandoned stores. It's crazy, but Adam makes him want to do all sorts of irresponsible things, and Ronan never gets tired of his body, of his fingers, of the surprised way he gasps when Ronan gives him pleasure just the way he wants it.
It's impossible to keep his voice even when he speaks again, and so it comes out a little rough, scraped against the reddening mark on Adam's collarbone.]
Or- I can bring you inside, here. Lock the door. Put your back on the ground and taste you. [He swallows hard. Just imagining it makes his mouth go dry.] You want that?
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On a simple level, it's that he's never been wanted like this, with no reservations and no hesitation. He could drown in it, lose himself in the impossible pleasure of Ronan's desire, respond with his own. But it's not just that. It wouldn't be the same coming from anyone else, because he wouldn't want them as much as he wants Ronan. It would lack the months of long looks, charged silences, the careful touches and quiet balance as they felt each other out. They've earned this, he thinks, they've earned the right to fall into each other.
Isn't it fair that he wants nothing more than to touch Ronan? That he finds it almost impossible to put the brakes on things even when he knows he should? They're careless and much less cautious than they should be, it's only luck that no one's come upon them already. Adam should know better, he's always been the careful one.
Around Ronan, he loses that, and he barely even regrets it for a moment. He'll steal kisses in the streets, knowing what they might lead to, run his fingers teasingly along the inside of Ronan's arm, pull him into a quiet corner and never, ever say no. He always knows better, and he always does it anyway, because he can't get enough of Ronan.]
You know I want that.
[His own voice is a little low, a little tight with the need he feels, and he moves against Ronan, just a bit. Not enough, but something.]
What are you waiting for?
[He means it to be taunting, teasing, urging Ronan on with gentle barbs. Instead it comes out hungry and raw, like the scrape of Ronan's teeth against his neck, like his own hands where they tighten on Ronan's jacket.]
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When they're both all inside, it takes a little positioning- this is just a crappy store that they get supplies in sometime, small and a little dusty, with no extra rooms or anything and so Ronan delicately kneels down right there near the door, setting Adam down to sit in front of him. It takes a bit of strategic maneuvering then, to shuck off his jacket and throw it to the ground behind the other boy, but once it's positioned well enough, Ronan eases him back with a heavy kiss, maneuvering him backward until he's lying on the floor as promised, with his head somewhat pillowed by the lining of a leather jacket.
Ronan grins sharp against his mouth then, all teeth and longing, before breaking the kiss and pressing a finger to Adam's lips.]
Stay.
[He instructs him, before heaving himself back up and moving back to the door to securely close and lock it from behind, sliding a door stop up against it for good measure. There are windows of course, but they're high up enough that it would be impossible to see what they're doing through the swirling, stained glass without being right up next to the wall and that's enough privacy for Ronan.
He glances back down toward Adam on the floor, like a present waiting to be unwrapped and he smirks, reaching his fingers down to tug up the hem of his own shirt, removing a potential obstacle before joining the other boy back down on the floor, resting a knee between his thighs and starting with fingers on his stomach, too far away to kiss for the time being.]
Right here?
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He props himself up on his elbows so he can watch Ronan. He likes the way Ronan moves, the way Ronan looks at him even during the brief period they're separated. The being separated part is less nice - he misses the warmth of Ronan's body against his, the way they move together.
Then Ronan returns to him, and Adam settles back, and he doesn't even bother trying to pretend he's not appreciating the view of Ronan removing his shirt.]
Right here. Fuck, Lynch - anywhere.
[He won't pretend otherwise. He's sure Ronan already knows it, anyway - Adam's not the type to insist on soft cushions and spotless sheets, though he wouldn't say no to that, either. To him, it doesn't matter where they are, so long as Ronan is touching him. So long as Ronan wants him.
He has all the affection he could ever have asked for, more than he ever dreamed of. Even so, he's still hungry for Ronan, still always eager to reach out, to kiss and be kissing, to explore Ronan's body and feel Ronan's hands on him.
He catches hold of the hem of his own shirt and pushes himself up again, just enough to pull it off, not caring that his bare back will be pressed against the floor. He'd rather have as few barriers as possible between them. It does dislodge Ronan's fingers, but Adam reaches out to catch his wrist and place it back where it was before, this time skin against skin. He breathes in at the touch, looking up at Ronan.]
That's better.
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He leans back in, easing over Adam with a gentle murmur, his fingers pushing up along his chest, thumb catching on a nipple and teasing at it in the moments it takes for Ronan to press their lips together for a kiss. His pants are still on and so are Adam's, and while he'd like to sink right down to the floor with the other boy, he knows the logistics of their situation are going to take some arranging, and he'd rather have it all done at once than to have to keep pulling away.]
What do you want?
[He asks, breathless with it. In the past few months, they've explored all kinds of ways of bringing pleasure to one another, and they both have their favorites. Ronan likes everything because everything involves Adam, but he has to admit that he's partial to- well, to some things.
He grins against the kiss, sharp and delighted, before his hand slides back down Adam's front, under the button of his jeans to make a quick and shocking grab at the other boy's cock through the thin fabric of his underwear, and that might also be his favorite thing, the first time they really manage to touch eachother, the sudden thereness of Adam's dick, how everything about it just manages to be perfect.]
I could put my mouth between your thighs, [he murmurs into Adam's ear, pressing their cheeks together so he can whisper darkly against the soft fuzz of hair at his temple,] lick you everywhere until you're begging me to blow you. I could use my hands on you and hold you down on the ground, right here in this stupid store.
[He leans in just that little bit more, lifting up on his knees, fingers incessant and rubbing against him still, his hand too trapped in Adam's jeans to really stroke him the way Ronan would like to.]
I could fuck you, if you wanted. I could pull you open with my fingers and take you hard, just the way you like it. [Ronan edges forward until he can finally take Adam's earlobe in his teeth, biting gently at the sensitive skin there.]
Your call, Parrish.
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[He doesn't know how Ronan expects him to think when he's touching Adam like that, when he's saying those things. He doesn't know how anyone could. He can't focus on anything, can't even keep from bucking his hips up against Ronan's hand, an unconscious and impossible to resist response to Ronan.
He wants all of it, he wants everything Ronan can give him and more. When it comes right down to it, Adam doesn't care what they do as long as Ronan is involved. They've experimented and explored each other, and Adam doesn't think there's anything in the world that Ronan could suggest that would turn him off, no matter how strange, not if it's the two of them.
But, like anyone, he does have things he likes particularly. And this - Ronan intent on him, wanting him, a little dirty and a little rough and a lot sexy - is absolutely one of them, whatever form it ends up taking. And he thinks about it, of course he does, how could he not with Ronan's voice in his ear and Ronan's teeth against his skin?
He thinks about Ronan's mouth, his tongue, the brush of his teeth against Adam's soft inner thighs, the time everyone was out of the house and Ronan came into the kitchen, pushed Adam back against the cabinets, sank to his knees. He thinks about Ronan's hands, his scarred knuckles, his careful touch waking Adam from sleep, the unconcealed pleasure in his expression when Adam wraps a hand around his cock in return. He thinks about the time at the clinic, their stolen moments alone while everyone else was busy or out, when they had no time and every chance to be caught and Ronan still fucked him on one of the empty beds, hurried and hungry and needy on both sides.
He wants it all, and he wants it bad. He moves his hips up against Ronan's hand again and turns his head, catching Ronan's lips, kissing him hard. He wants it all, and it's hard to think about anything else. But somewhere inside Adam even now is a kernel of practicality, and as much as he would desperately like Ronan inside him right here, the weight of Ronan's body pressing him down, the pleasant ache of it - well, they do have to walk home after this. He's got to at least try to be practical sometimes, as much as he wants to be anything else right now.]
Use your mouth. You're being dirty enough already, you might as well put it to use.
[He's breathless even with just this, but how could he not be? Ronan destroys him so easily.]
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Part of him wants to ask Adam to confess his love again, just so that Ronan can hear the words when he slinks down his chest, but the rest of him knows that he doesn't need to hear it. Adam's love has been everywhere since the day he experienced it- just being touched by him, kissed by him, surrounded by him, is enough. He knows, he doesn't need the validation.
Which is why Ronan is silent when he finally pulls back, quirking an eyebrow up toward Adam before nodding in a jerky motion, and he leans in to accost Adam's throat again.
He's not there for long though, just ensuring the the bruise from earlier will really last before he dips back down, working his hand out of the front of the other boy's pants and unbuttoning them instead, onehanded with the type of skill that suggests he does this often. Because, well- he does.]
You know what I love most about doing this?
[It's kind of a trick question that he leaves Adam to mull over while he slips down to the other boy's stomach, licking his way down the planes of his abdomen, pressing his mouth below his belly button. In truth, Ronan loves all of it- he loves the taste of Adam, the warm weight of him in his mouth, he loves being on his fucking knees for him, like he's praying, like he's worshiping, like Adam is a king that Ronan would gladly serve- he loves all of it.
With Adam's pants unbuttoned, the zipper is easy enough to tug down, and Ronan uses both hands now to slide Adam's pants and underwear over his hips, lifting a little so Adam can ease up to help him.]
It's the way you breathe. You're so quiet, but I can hear you breathing. [He confesses it on a whisper as the rest of Adam's body is revealed to him, and Ronan would like to get to work right there, but Adam's legs are still constricted by his jeans, which are on over his- shoes, damnit, and Ronan is growing impatient with wanting him. He doesn't hide it very well, and his movements grow a little more insistent, pressing a sucking kiss into the sharp line of Adam's hipbone while he focuses his attention on one shoe, one leg, pulling back momentarily to yank everything off so he can lift it by the knee and press his cheek into the warm inside of Adam's thigh.]
When your breath catches and your fingers- [he murmurs, sinking in, sliding his tongue along the narrow stretch of skin where Adam's thigh meets his groin.] -when you press your hand against your mouth and breathe hard through your nose.
[Ronan scrapes his teeth just barely over the sensitive skin there and peers up at Adam's face, his eyes alight, his expression nothing short of devious.]
Only I get to hear that. It's perfect.
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He likes it when Ronan talks like this - likes it an embarrassing amount. It's the lack of shame, maybe, the open and intent pleasure in Ronan's voice, the acknowledgement that he notices all these little things and that he likes them, he likes Adam. The sounds he makes - Adam didn't even know he noticed them. Adam barely notices himself, too consumed by pleasure to pay attention.
He's naturally the quiet type, quiet in nearly everything he does. That's always been the case, and intimacy is no different. But Ronan is able to draw things out of him that he didn't expect, that he might be embarrassed by in other situations. But with him it's all right, with him it feels perfect. It's not that he didn't know he did that, but that he'd never thought of it - certainly never thought of it as something that someone would like. That Ronan would like.
It gets under his skin when Ronan says things like that, just like it does when Ronan touches him the right way, when Ronan leaves bruises in the shape of his mouth on Adam's skin, when Ronan gets on his knees for him. It's like little hooks in his belly, in his heart maybe, tugging at him and drawing out responses both physical and emotional. He can't stop it, wouldn't want to if he could.]
You're a fucking menace. You can't say things like that.
[But, notably, Adam is never going to actually tell him not to say things like that. Just that it's terribly unfair when he's already hard, when he already wants Ronan so bad he feels like he'll combust. This just makes it worse, makes it harder - well, literally and figuratively.
He reaches down to skim his fingers over Ronan's hair, eyes on him, never looking away. There's so many things he loves about this. The feel of Ronan's head under his hand, the careful brush of his teeth, how his attention narrows to a singular focus - Adam, just Adam. How the world is entirely the two of them.]
I could be louder, if you wanted. I could say your name.
[He already does sometimes, when they really get carried away, but Adam tends toward quiet. He never wants Ronan to think for a moment that he doesn't want him, though, want him so much he can barely stand it. It's torture, him down there, saying those things, so close to Adam's cock and not quite touching it, but he bites his lips and he doesn't move nearly as much as he wants to, because he wants it just like this.]
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Do you want to say my name?
[He asks, because it's always about want with him, it's always about selfishness and giving into your own emotions. He doesn't want Adam to be loud just to appease him; that would be no better than a lie, and he's not entirely keen on the idea of fucking someone who's just reacting in ways that they'll think he likes.
Everything about him is too fucking genuine sometimes, and Ronan smirks when he thinks about it and when he thinks about peeling all the pleasing, striving, critical layers of the other boy down until all Adam has left is what he wants. It's happened before and it'll happen again, and again, and again, and just that thought makes him tilt his head a little to slide his cheek across the side of Adam's cock, following the motion with a kissing press of his lips before he pulls back again, parting Adam's legs further so he can dip his head between them and set his mouth to a less satisfying, more teasing use.
He enjoys doing this too- this quiet undoing, the slow filth of dragging his tongue across Adam's balls, pressing teasing kisses to the softness of the skin just under them, letting the warmth of his breath shiver across the more intimate parts of him and pulling back up with Adam is a sufficient spit-slick mess.]
Talk to me, [Ronan teases, coaxing it out of him as he finds the little mark he'd left on Adam's thigh earlier and sets about sucking a darker patch into his skin,] tell me where you want it. I'll do it.
[His eyes flick up again, mouth pressed against soft skin, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly in amusement.]
I'll do anything.
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And fairness is so important, after all.
He reaches down, catches Ronan's jaw in shaky fingers so he'll look at Adam, so their eyes can meet.]
You can't ask what I want like what you want doesn't matter.
[He trails his fingers over Ronan's lips, trying to control his own breathing. It really isn't easy, all things considered, but Ronan deserves a taste of his own medicine after - well, all the things he's been saying, everything that gets under Adam's skin and makes him feel like he's going to melt, like he can't think of anything but Ronan's mouth and hands and cock.]
Not that I don't like the idea of you obeying my every whim.
[Adam's mouth quirks into his own amused little smile.]
I want you to kiss me until neither of us can breathe. I want you to leave marks on my neck where everyone can see. I want you to jerk off thinking about me even when we'll see each other right after - even if I'm watching. I want to come in your mouth, I want you to fuck me until I can't see straight and all I can do is say your name. I want you to want me more than you've ever wanted anything in your life.
[He should be embarrassed, saying all of that - he absolutely will be later, when they're not in the middle of this, when Ronan's mouth hasn't just been on him, when Ronan hasn't just said he'll do anything. But right now, it's easy, Adam's not self-conscious. He wants to say it, he wants it to have an effect on Ronan just the way Ronan has an effect on him. He wants to take Ronan apart. He wants this, all of it, so badly, and he's so hard he can barely think.]
What do you want?
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He can't help but to love it, and he's not ashamed of that. Adam is so good at what he does and Ronan wants desperately to reward him, so he slides back up Adam's body to meet his mouth in a messy kiss, his fingers finding the other boy's cock- still a little slick from his earlier attentions- and giving it a firm stroke.]
You.
[He whispers it like it's an answer to the question, though it pales in comparison to everything that Adam had just confided in him. Ronan latches onto Adam's neck to suck another bruise at the fluttering pulse there and starts to stroke him, firm and intent on giving him what he needs.]
More than anything. Just you- every sound and every movement and every fucking inch of your skin.
[Ronan slides up a little so that his knees are on either side of Adam's thighs, and he presses his cock, warm and hard and insistent up against Adam's own, wrapping a hand around them both for now. It's a lazy pleasure, pulsing against him like this, and while Ronan isn't teasing, he's certainly in no hurry.]
I'm yours. I want you to be mine, too.
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I am yours.
[It's not a possession thing. It isn't Ronan owning him, or the reverse. It's not that Ronan calls the shots, or that Adam does, or that either of them belong to the other in a way that strips away their freedom. Adam would never accept being owned like that, and would not want to own someone that way. This is different, this is something else, another kind of belonging - a free exchange of their selves, their bodies and their hearts and everything else. It's him offering Ronan everything he has, all the things he's never offered anyone else because he needed to be his own man, he needed to cling to whatever freedom he could get.
But he is free. He has been for some time now, even while he slowly comes to realize and accept that. Out from his father's thumb, he can choose the ties he wants. He can choose to follow Gansey without being owned by him, he can choose to serve Cabeswater without being a puppet, and he can find power in both.
And he can choose to be Ronan's. He can choose to give him everything, every part of himself, and know that Ronan wants those things, that he thinks they're valuable and worth having. That he wants Adam, and that he wants Adam to have him in return.]
All of me.
[He moves his hips again, up into Ronan's grip. It's not quite urgent, that movement - still slow and rolling, hungry without being needy. For now. His fingers dig in a little as the shock of pleasure courses through him. He wants more.]
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[Ronan wouldn't want to own Adam in the way that Adam has been afraid of being owned. He just wants this to be- a partnership maybe, but one that's more like a venn diagram than two people linking arms, one that has pieces of themselves mingled together, with Ronan and Adam, and with Ronan&Adam, and he wants the edges to get blurred when they have sex, and he wants Adam to say that he loves him again, and he never, ever wants to stop touching him.
It's a lot of want, even for Ronan, who is used to wanting grand things. Adam is pressing his hips up into Ronan's fingers, and he tightens his grip fractionally at that, pressing lingering kisses over Adam's throat.
He wants to fuck him, but he knows that he can't, here. It would take too much prep work, and it's an act best left at home. Jerking the both of them off like this is easier, but Ronan still wants to put his mouth on him, and so he comes off of Adam's chest again, amused at his own indecision as he lets his fingers trail a little lower, nails scratching at the inside of Adam's thighs.]
Wrap your legs around me, [he murmurs, before squirming back down, fast enough to be a surprise when he takes Adam into his mouth in one fluid motion, mindful of his teeth as he goes as far down as is comfortable before pulling back up to breathe through his nose. He's teased the poor boy enough, he thinks, it's time to get to the main event.
He's sure that Adam won't mind, after all.]
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It's hard to think when Ronan is doing that, but he puts his thoughts together after that initial surprise and does as asked, wrapping his long legs around Ronan, eager for more. His hand skims over Ronan's head again.]
Please.
[It's a needy request, almost a demand, but he doesn't try to temper it. Adam is conscious of himself even when they're like this, aware of what he says and does, and sometimes he likes that - sometimes he likes to stay in control of himself and tease Ronan, urge him on, be clear about exactly what he wants and what he wants Ronan to do. But sometimes all he wants is to let go for awhile, to let all his careful caution fall away and let go of some of his control.
Ronan is the only person he trusts enough to do that with, although sometimes it isn't entirely his choice - Adam might have spent most of his life being careful, but he's also a teenage boy who's fallen irretrievably in love. It would be impossible for him to keep control of himself with Ronan all the time, even if he wanted to.]
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But Adam loves him. Adam loves him, and Ronan loves him back with his entire heart, so full it feels like it will burst from him and ruin them both, but it doesn't. He doesn't know how to say it most of the time, and it's not like he can tell Adam this now, when his mouth is busy with other things, and so Ronan shows it in ways that he's more comfortable with, sucking down Adam's cock and sliding his fingers along the outside of his thighs.
It feels so good like this, Adam losing control beneath him, Adam's legs gripping him tight, holding him there, Adam's hands skimming over his head, and Ronan gives it as good as he's got, swallowing Adam down with a practiced ease and closing his eyes at the feel and taste of him.
He comes up off of Adam's cock for just a moment, long enough to catch his breath while he slides his tongue over what he'd been previously unable to fit in his mouth, warm and encompassing, looking up toward Adam's face now with dark eyes, eager to see how close he is, how this is affecting him.]
Say it again.
[He knows that Adam doesn't love his loss of control, but sometimes when Ronan can push him far enough, it's like he forgets about it- at least that's what Ronan thinks. And moments like that are some of the moments that Ronan loves most about sex between them, when he can nudge Adam to that precipice and watch him take the final step and tumble over with needy words and twisting hands and begging, fuck, the begging. It drives the both of them wild and Ronan adores it with every inch of savagery and love in him.]
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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.]
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He loves him. That much he knows, without restraint, without any sign of an end, and Ronan smiles as he leans back in to press his mouth around Adam's cock again, sucking and pressing against him in just the way that Ronan knows he likes. It won't take Adam very long- if they're both being completely honest, it's not going to take Ronan very long either, with the rate that the two of them are going, the way that Adam's fingers skim over the fuzz of his hair, the way that Adam's legs hold him tighter and harder, the way that he lets his hunger consume him.
It's the hottest thing that Ronan thinks he's ever seen, and he devotes himself wholeheartedly to the task at hand to make the payoff worthy of it to both of them. One of his hands slips up just barely then, pressing a finger into his mouth alongside Adam's cock, before sliding back. He has to be quick- Adam is probably going to come here in a few moments, and he wants it to be as good as possible, and so he shifts forward just a little, enough to press his slick finger against Adam's entrance and ease inside.
It's not- he won't go for more than that without proper lubricant, but it's a nice counterpoint, he thinks, to the mouth on Adam's cock. If anything, it makes him a little regretful that they hadn't decided to run home for anything proper, but there'll always be next time.
And the time after that.]
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And considering that, the intensity of his feelings and the depth of his desire, it's no surprise that being with Ronan like this can be so overwhelming. Adam loves him, has finally been able to say it aloud, and that's scary but it was also so easy. It felt right, and Adam might still be unsure about his own capacity for love, but he knows that despite that he loves Ronan with all of himself.
He arches up against Ronan, that slide of his finger into Adam a perfect arc of sensation, just enough to make him fall apart. It would have come quickly anyway, with Ronan's mouth on him, with everything that's gone between them, but that makes it better, makes Adam's climax come with a suddenness and intensity that even he wasn't expecting.
Afterward he'll feel bad that he wasn't able to warn Ronan, but in the moment, he can't think about anything. There's only the intense, single-minded pleasure as his body tenses, as he reaches release.]
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