[Noah's thoughts are a comfort, though not enough to undo seventeen years of self-denial. Ronan has had a very, very long time to hate himself and his desires. The act of lovemaking should be beautiful, but the guilt of wanting it follows him anytime he gets close to a boy.
That doesn't meant he intends to stop. He scatters kisses over Noah's lips and across his jaw, hot and adoring. Noah is the sweetest lover he could hope for, and Ronan's endlessly grateful for his patience and encouragement. He might be terrified if it was anyone else. He still can't forget Kavinsky's sharp, mocking laughter, and that was only after a kiss. Noah, on the other hand, doesn't mind Ronan's fumbling reluctance, and that makes this so much easier. He continues to work Noah with his hand, building him up, faster and faster. Somehow it makes him feel powerful instead of filthy.]
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That doesn't meant he intends to stop. He scatters kisses over Noah's lips and across his jaw, hot and adoring. Noah is the sweetest lover he could hope for, and Ronan's endlessly grateful for his patience and encouragement. He might be terrified if it was anyone else. He still can't forget Kavinsky's sharp, mocking laughter, and that was only after a kiss. Noah, on the other hand, doesn't mind Ronan's fumbling reluctance, and that makes this so much easier. He continues to work Noah with his hand, building him up, faster and faster. Somehow it makes him feel powerful instead of filthy.]