[Noah makes a noise, and squirms a little. Reflexively, he clenches at Ronan's short hair, and nearly laughs at the outcome.
This is what I'm talking about, dude, he thinks at Ronan. Hair. But he tips his head to the side, offering up the pale expanse of his neck and collar, above the T-shirts drooping neck.]
[Ronan snickers against Noah's throat, and he has to acknowledge that Noah's right. It'd be fun if Noah had something to hold onto right now. But it also means that Noah can't really tug him away from the objective, which is currently to latch his mouth onto Noah's skin and tickle him with teeth and tongue. This, accompanied by a playful growl.]
[That draws another whine from Noah - apparently a quite vocal participant - and his hand leaves Ronan's hair to skim down to his tank top, clumsily seeking purchase on the bare skin beneath.
The bite marks are gonna be fun to explain, he says, but it isn't with distaste. He loves the attention, and he loves Ronan, and honestly he's a touch-starved teenage boy who's been craving this for years.]
Take this off. [Re: the shirt, which he's now tugging at insistently.]
[Ronan had honestly been so caught up in the moment - in being back in Noah's bed - that he'd forgotten they have several more people around now who might require such explanations. It had been just Ronan and Noah for so long. Now he's acutely aware of Noah's noises, too, and his face flushes as he sits back and straddles Noah's hips.
Nevertheless, he obeys, peeling his shirt off and tossing it aside. His hands land on Noah's chest and begin pushing his shirt up, too. Noah feels too small beneath them, soft skin and fragile bones.]
[Okay, ooookay, Ronan sitting back against him is a thing that is happening now, and Noah has to bite one lip to keep himself quiet. He wriggles out of his T-shirt - only getting it stuck briefly around his ears - pulling it up past the marks already blooming.
I'm not fragile, he argues, as his hands come back to rest on bare skin. He spreads his fingers over Ronan's back, tracing the edges of his tattoo, and pulls him down for another kiss. You aren't going to break me like this.]
[He can't help feeling that way, though. A living Noah means a Noah who can be hurt, and what is Ronan if not an instrument for hurting? When he isn't careful, naturally, he breaks things.
It's okay, though. He's assured. Ronan bends to Noah's urging, meeting Noah's lips and kissing him fervently - if not with total abandon. They've been apart for too long, even while they were technically near each other. He's missed the sugar-booze taste of Noah, the warmth of him, and the awkward angles of their limbs as their bodies tangle in a pillowy, too-cozy space.
Purring, he loves Noah's fingers drawing over the lines of his tattoo. The kiss breaks again and Ronan's hands slip under Noah, palms sliding along the curve of his spine and holding them close to each other.]
I'd rather worry about it than not have to.
[If Noah's heart wasn't beating, there'd be no concern. But then Noah's heart wouldn't be beating.]
[The affection and love in Ronan's thoughts make Noah's heart swell, and he beams at the warm press of hands on his back, at the feeling of their hearts beating so close together. He could be content to just lie here, chest to chest, skin to skin, for the rest of the night. He could be, but there's more that he wants.
While Ronan's distracted by talking, Noah finally frees one of his legs. He hooks it firmly over Ronan's hip.]
[Ronan would honestly have been content to simply lie there, too. But now something else is happening, and Noah's leg is wrapped around him, and Ronan makes a small noise in his throat. The temperature of the room feels like it's risen at least ten degrees in thirty seconds.]
...That works, too.
[He'll shut up now, scattering a line of kisses along Noah's jaw in a journey back to his lips.]
[Impatient, Noah tilts his head to catch the last kiss meant for his jaw. He tries to free his other leg, to hitch himself up closer, but the cramped quarters make it a difficult task. His own squirming tugs another groan from his throat, and he half-laughs into the kiss.
A little nervously, You're okay with this, right? It's not too much?]
[It's probably too much. That doesn't mean Ronan wants to stop, though. It's fine. They're still half-clothed, and it's really not anything, even though Ronan is gasping against Noah's mouth. One hand slides to Noah's hip, thumb hooking at the waistband of his pajamas but not tugging. The other travels up Noah's spine until it finds his hair, fingers combing through it as Ronan palms the back of his head and holds him gently in the kiss. Some semblance of control.]
[Ronan's verbal - mental? - assurance answers little, but Noah can feel the enthusiasm in his actions, and it's intoxicating. When one thumb slips under the waistband, Noah gives a choked whine and swivels his hips just a touch, trying to urge further action. His foot thumps against the wall, one swift noise that he barely hears.]
[Being directly above Noah's room, Gansey can hear quite a bit from the loft. There's a few noises that sound like Noah whimpering, and then a thud. He sets aside his communicator--he'd been looking at the Network. He can't shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, Blue could show up. He frowns as he makes his way down the stairs. Is Noah alright?
Gansey leans over and knocks on his strange bedroom door.]
[For better or worse, Ronan's never had the experience of being caught in the act by his parents, but he has a feeling it's a lot like this. He barely chokes down a swear as he scrambles to pull back from Noah, but they're tangled around each other, and his effort only succeeds in knocking them both sideways so his elbow hits the wall with a hard bang. Now he and Noah are trapped worse than before, because Ronan can't quite manage to get upright fast enough while Noah's thighs are squeezing his hips.]
[The loud sound concerns him even more and Noah hasn't responded yet. What in the world...?
He has no idea what's going on but he doesn't like the combination of the two. He opens the doors and pokes his head in looking towards the bed.]
Noah what's going on--
[Before he can finish the question he sees...a much taller form than Noah on the bed. With legs wrapped around his waist. There's no mistaking Ronan's figure even in this lighting. Gansey is frozen in place in surprise, only thought in his head, I thought Ronan and Adam...?]
[Noah had been fighting to free himself from the tangle of long limbs, but the creak of the cabinet doors tell him that time is up. Gansey's voice sounds next, and he hears the short fragment of a question before the boy peers around the corner.]
Gansey! [His voice goes up half an octave. He finally pulls his legs free, and scrabbles to cover his midsection with an oversized pillow, as if any modesty can be preserved at this point.]
[This is it. This is how Ronan's life ends. He will expire from shame alone and descend straight into Hell through the floorboards of this room. Once Noah manages to scramble away, Ronan flops onto his side with his back to Gansey and his face in his hands, doing his best impression of a possum playing dead.]
[Gansey flushes and the heat reaches up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears, which is hard to see in the dim light. Remembering himself and seeing Ronan's reaction, he backs out of doorway quickly, shutting the nearer door, leaning back against it.
He turns his head towards the open door and calls out:]
[Ronan answers without hesitation. He couldn't say what he is, but he knows it's not that. Finally pulling his hands away from his face, Ronan heaves a sigh and rolls over so he can look at Noah. He's not horrified about being discovered with Noah. He's horrified about being discovered at all.]
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[Ronan's not worried about it. He dips down again, this time to nibble playfully at the crook of Noah's neck.]
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[Noah makes a noise, and squirms a little. Reflexively, he clenches at Ronan's short hair, and nearly laughs at the outcome.
This is what I'm talking about, dude, he thinks at Ronan. Hair. But he tips his head to the side, offering up the pale expanse of his neck and collar, above the T-shirts drooping neck.]
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The bite marks are gonna be fun to explain, he says, but it isn't with distaste. He loves the attention, and he loves Ronan, and honestly he's a touch-starved teenage boy who's been craving this for years.]
Take this off. [Re: the shirt, which he's now tugging at insistently.]
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Nevertheless, he obeys, peeling his shirt off and tossing it aside. His hands land on Noah's chest and begin pushing his shirt up, too. Noah feels too small beneath them, soft skin and fragile bones.]
I don't think I marked you up too bad.
[Yet?]
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I'm not fragile, he argues, as his hands come back to rest on bare skin. He spreads his fingers over Ronan's back, tracing the edges of his tattoo, and pulls him down for another kiss. You aren't going to break me like this.]
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It's okay, though. He's assured. Ronan bends to Noah's urging, meeting Noah's lips and kissing him fervently - if not with total abandon. They've been apart for too long, even while they were technically near each other. He's missed the sugar-booze taste of Noah, the warmth of him, and the awkward angles of their limbs as their bodies tangle in a pillowy, too-cozy space.
Purring, he loves Noah's fingers drawing over the lines of his tattoo. The kiss breaks again and Ronan's hands slip under Noah, palms sliding along the curve of his spine and holding them close to each other.]
I'd rather worry about it than not have to.
[If Noah's heart wasn't beating, there'd be no concern. But then Noah's heart wouldn't be beating.]
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While Ronan's distracted by talking, Noah finally frees one of his legs. He hooks it firmly over Ronan's hip.]
I'd rather not worry about anything.
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...That works, too.
[He'll shut up now, scattering a line of kisses along Noah's jaw in a journey back to his lips.]
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A little nervously, You're okay with this, right? It's not too much?]
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Gansey leans over and knocks on his strange bedroom door.]
Noah, everything okay? Are you hurt?
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Crap.]
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He has no idea what's going on but he doesn't like the combination of the two. He opens the doors and pokes his head in looking towards the bed.]
Noah what's going on--
[Before he can finish the question he sees...a much taller form than Noah on the bed. With legs wrapped around his waist. There's no mistaking Ronan's figure even in this lighting. Gansey is frozen in place in surprise, only thought in his head, I thought Ronan and Adam...?]
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Gansey! [His voice goes up half an octave. He finally pulls his legs free, and scrabbles to cover his midsection with an oversized pillow, as if any modesty can be preserved at this point.]
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He turns his head towards the open door and calls out:]
Sorry--! I didn't mean to interrupt!
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Please, Gansey. [Then, in his head, I'm sorry. We should have told you. I'll talk to you in a bit.]
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Tell me Gansey's the only one out there right now.
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He is. [Turning back towards Ronan, ] You okay?
[He could just look in his head, but he figures Ronan needs some privacy right now.]
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[Because a lot of it depends on how disgusted Gansey is right now. Ronan personally feels like puking. He won't, but he feels like it.]
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[Noah rolls so that the tip of his nose barely brushes Ronan's spine, just a whisper.]
... Are you disgusted?
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[Ronan answers without hesitation. He couldn't say what he is, but he knows it's not that. Finally pulling his hands away from his face, Ronan heaves a sigh and rolls over so he can look at Noah. He's not horrified about being discovered with Noah. He's horrified about being discovered at all.]
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