[The hand-holding seems to assure Noah of something, and he uses that one finger to push Ronan gently backwards, into his pillows. There's nothing rough or sexual about the action, even as Noah crawls up to drape himself over Ronan's chest. It's a soft exchange of comfort; a quiet promise. He tucks his head under Ronan's chin.]
You're the one I'd have wanted that future with, if I could have it. If I had to pick.
[Ronan gathers Noah up in his arms as they settle back, the familiar weight on his chest soothing him with the memory of a time when it was just the two of them in this place. It had been lonely then, but it'd also been more certain. Ronan knew that he was coming home to Noah every day, and that they would be with each other like this, and it would be the same tomorrow, and the day after that.
Noah's words bring a tightness to his throat and a heat to his eyes. He hates that they don't have a future. He hates it more than anything.]
You're mine.
[Ronan wanted Noah from the start. They were each other's best companions, especially once Gansey and Adam became infatuated with each other. Ronan can't imagine what it'll be like when Noah isn't a part of his life anymore. He can't remember a time without him.]
I haven't given up, you know. I'm still trying to find a way.
[A soft, agreeable sound escapes Ronan's throat. One hand pushes through Noah's hair again while the other glides to the small of his back, holding him close.]
I promise I will.
[None of them will let him join Noah in death, so he'll have to bring Noah to life.]
[Noah doesn't answer, at least not in words. He swipes at Ronan's collar with his tongue, still sweet and careful, and rubs soothing circles against his chest. He could never delude himself into thinking that sex could make things better, but he wants to press his cheek to Ronan's and feel his thoughts run brighter and happier, even just for a second.]
[Ronan purrs, a shiver of pleasure running through his body. Sex may not necessarily make things better, but Noah's touch does. It's a comfort to be wanted still, actions matching words. More than that, though, Ronan loves the opportunity to feel Noah's body against him. It's something they couldn't have back home. It is - for Ronan, too - a reason to be alive.]
[Ronan agrees with his body rather than with words, hips grinding up at the same moment his hands pull Noah closer. His fingers tangle themselves up in Noah's hair as he submits to Noah's mouth, his head rolling back to leave his throat exposed.]
[It's a familiar conversation, playful and insistent and spoken entirely with their hips. Noah falls into the rhythm with an easy sigh, his teeth scraping Ronan's neck; one hand slides up to trace the back of his head, nails digging in slightly.
It's funny how they were both near tears only a few minutes ago. Either they're really good at emotions, or they have a lot of shit they need to work through.]
This time- [Noah talks right into his skin, warm and buzzing.] This time I want you inside me.
[Ronan remains dangerously close to tears, in fact, but that means he needs Noah all the more urgently. He squirms beneath Noah, gasping at that gently rough touch and growing harder in his too-tight jeans.
Then Noah says that and Ronan's cock throbs painfully in the same moment his heart skips a beat.]
Are you sure?
[They've been putting this off with good reason. Noah's so little and Ronan's so... big. So likely to lose control. So likely to hurt Noah without meaning to.]
[Ronan nods in assent, his forehead nudging Noah's. A flush of nervousness colors him and his heart pounds louder in his ears, but they've been putting this off for a while now, and Ronan doesn't want Noah to think he doesn't want this. He does. He thinks about it all the time. He's let Noah watch the imagined experience in his mind. The only thing left is to do it.
Cupping Noah's face in his hands, Ronan draws him in for a slow, hungry kiss. He pushes his tongue past Noah's lips and silently promises to be good to him, the way Noah's been.]
[I know you will be, he thinks back at that promise, returning a kiss just as adoring and desperate.
They're practiced at this part, at the shedding of clothes and the tracing of bodies, but every exploration still feels like the first one. Noah still feels a thrill every time he slides his T-shirt off in front of Ronan's worshipful eyes. When he rocks back against him, he feels nervous excitement all the way through his stomach. They're giddy teenagers, still clumsy and unpracticed, but the love in their hearts surpasses age.]
[Ronan sheds his shirt with an impatient sweep of his arm before immediately returning his hands to Noah's skin. His palms pass over Noah's ribs and he bows forward to close his lips around Noah's throat, sucking and kissing. He has to keep moving before the anxiety catches up with him. Let his body feel excitement, instead.
Moaning softly into Noah's skin as Noah's hips move against him, Ronan's fingers climb back down to begin working Noah out of the rest of his clothes. They're rushing only to go slow, he knows, but he can't help himself.]
[It's the going-slow part that Noah can't wait for, and he wastes no time trying to wriggle out of his jeans, scrabbling for Ronan's at the same time.]
Dude.
[He uses his toes to shuck his jeans off the rest of the way, and if they were in any other circumstances, it would be hilariously weird.]
I have that Beyoncé song stuck in my head now. "Crazy in Love", or whatever it's called.
[Ronan is no more graceful in his struggle to escape his jeans (and grateful for Noah's assistance). Once he's free, his hands are on Noah again. This will be easier, he thinks, with Noah above him, and he directs Noah's thighs to straddle his hips. With a short laugh, he brings his mouth to Noah's ear and sings, breathy with nerves:]
♫ 'cause your love's got the best of me And baby, you're making a fool of me You got me sprung and I don't care who sees 'cause baby, you got me, you got me ♫
[Noah laughs, light and jubilant and adoring, before cutting the song off with another needy kiss. It is a bit slower than the last, but it's rougher, in his sweet, roguish way. He nips and whines, one hand kneading against Ronan's chest while the other works to get rid of that last, pesky layer of boxers between their tightly pressed hips.
He knows it won't be easy, but he wants it to start not being easy now.]
[Returning the kiss with equal fervor while fighting to suppress a laugh, Ronan helps Noah along until the two of them are finally free of all their clothing. Then Ronan falls back and takes a moment to look at Noah, the way he so often does, like he's discovering his boyfriend's body anew. The hurt melts away when they can be together like this, when Ronan remembers to be grateful for their time.
One hand drops between them, palming Noah's cock, as if he needs any more encouragement. His other arm swings over the edge of the mattress, swiping the lube from under his bed.]
[Noah hums and whines at the touch, head dizzy with impatience and anticipation and nerves. He arches his back, reaching around blindly to try to return the contact. His hand is small and soft around Ronan, but his grasp is firm, full of building tension and simmering energy.]
Please. [It's hard to tell if he says it with his voice or with his mind - it seems to be both.]
[Ronan nods, quick and assuring and spurred by Noah's touch. He withdraws his hand to coat his fingers with lube, then reaches beneath Noah to seek out his entrance. They can't get too hasty, especially considering Ronan's size. Noah has to be prepared. Ronan pushes one finger into him, slowly, while the other hand returns to the task of massaging his length.]
[The movement draws out a hitched sigh, more relief than tension. He wriggles his hips a bit, trying to urge Ronan on, seeking out a touch that matches the pounding in his heart.]
[For all of Noah's impatience, Ronan fights to keep steady and careful while warming him up. Once the first finger's found an easy rhythm, Ronan adds a second. With the other hand, he strokes Noah in time. His sharp eyes travel up Noah's body, watching his reactions closely. He looks so fragile. Ronan still can't imagine how they're going to do this.]
[Noah tips forward, the top of his hair brushing Ronan's chin. His breath is already quick and hot, and his cheeks pink with warmth. One hand seeks out Ronan's shoulder, trying to bring their bodies closer.
Yes. It's easier pressed into his mind than choked out in a whisper. Very much yes.]
[Ronan withdraws, then, to coat the length of himself with lube. If Noah had whispered, Ronan wouldn't have been able to hear it over the pounding of his heart. As he rolls his hips up and positions himself, he presses a kiss into Noah's hair.]
I love you.
[And then he pushes in, entering Noah with agonizing slowness. Only an inch or so before he pauses, turning the control over to Noah. He can decide for himself how much is enough. Or too much. Ronan's holding his breath for fear of moving abruptly and doing something wrong.]
[The reaction is instantaneous. Noah's fingers dig into Ronan's shoulders, and there's a slow, hard hiss of breath. His words trail into a psychic litany of feeling - adoration, anticipation, passion. He holds onto Ronan like a brace, arms tightening around his shoulders and knees quivering against his thighs.
Finally, after a moment - and a couple of deep breaths - he eases down a little further.
It isn't comfortable, not yet, but it isn't as bad as he was expecting. It's... pressure, hot pressure, and an ache, more so than with Gansey. He presses his face into Ronan's shoulder, softly nuzzling with his nose, hoping to instill as much calm and love as he can.
It's fine. I'm fine. I love you.
He breathes in, then out, then in again, before lifting his hips up - hot skin moving against hot skin, torturously slow and small - and sinking back down, another inch father than before. This time, he lets out a half-stifled whine, his mouth open against Ronan's shoulder.]
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You're the one I'd have wanted that future with, if I could have it. If I had to pick.
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Noah's words bring a tightness to his throat and a heat to his eyes. He hates that they don't have a future. He hates it more than anything.]
You're mine.
[Ronan wanted Noah from the start. They were each other's best companions, especially once Gansey and Adam became infatuated with each other. Ronan can't imagine what it'll be like when Noah isn't a part of his life anymore. He can't remember a time without him.]
I haven't given up, you know. I'm still trying to find a way.
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[It's not a lie - just a wish. He wishes he could belong to Ronan, instead of belonging to the hallowed earth where his bones are buried.]
And you're not allowed to leave until you figure it out. Find a way to keep me.
[He kisses the closest skin to his lips, the hollow of Ronan's collar, soft and warm. His mouth tugs just a little.]
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I promise I will.
[None of them will let him join Noah in death, so he'll have to bring Noah to life.]
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Anywhere you need to be?
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Right here.
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[He hums his reply, following Ronan's veins up to the stubbly underside of his jaw.
Let's have sex. In thoughts, it's easier to put it simply and bluntly.]
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It's funny how they were both near tears only a few minutes ago. Either they're really good at emotions, or they have a lot of shit they need to work through.]
This time- [Noah talks right into his skin, warm and buzzing.] This time I want you inside me.
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Then Noah says that and Ronan's cock throbs painfully in the same moment his heart skips a beat.]
Are you sure?
[They've been putting this off with good reason. Noah's so little and Ronan's so... big. So likely to lose control. So likely to hurt Noah without meaning to.]
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Positive.
[He knows it could be a bad decision, but he's already been waiting so long. He's got to at least know.
Besides, he's been practicing diligently.]
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Cupping Noah's face in his hands, Ronan draws him in for a slow, hungry kiss. He pushes his tongue past Noah's lips and silently promises to be good to him, the way Noah's been.]
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They're practiced at this part, at the shedding of clothes and the tracing of bodies, but every exploration still feels like the first one. Noah still feels a thrill every time he slides his T-shirt off in front of Ronan's worshipful eyes. When he rocks back against him, he feels nervous excitement all the way through his stomach. They're giddy teenagers, still clumsy and unpracticed, but the love in their hearts surpasses age.]
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Moaning softly into Noah's skin as Noah's hips move against him, Ronan's fingers climb back down to begin working Noah out of the rest of his clothes. They're rushing only to go slow, he knows, but he can't help himself.]
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Dude.
[He uses his toes to shuck his jeans off the rest of the way, and if they were in any other circumstances, it would be hilariously weird.]
I have that Beyoncé song stuck in my head now. "Crazy in Love", or whatever it's called.
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♫ 'cause your love's got the best of me
And baby, you're making a fool of me
You got me sprung and I don't care who sees
'cause baby, you got me, you got me ♫
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[Noah laughs, light and jubilant and adoring, before cutting the song off with another needy kiss. It is a bit slower than the last, but it's rougher, in his sweet, roguish way. He nips and whines, one hand kneading against Ronan's chest while the other works to get rid of that last, pesky layer of boxers between their tightly pressed hips.
He knows it won't be easy, but he wants it to start not being easy now.]
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One hand drops between them, palming Noah's cock, as if he needs any more encouragement. His other arm swings over the edge of the mattress, swiping the lube from under his bed.]
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Please. [It's hard to tell if he says it with his voice or with his mind - it seems to be both.]
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Are you ready?
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Yes. It's easier pressed into his mind than choked out in a whisper. Very much yes.]
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I love you.
[And then he pushes in, entering Noah with agonizing slowness. Only an inch or so before he pauses, turning the control over to Noah. He can decide for himself how much is enough. Or too much. Ronan's holding his breath for fear of moving abruptly and doing something wrong.]
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[The reaction is instantaneous. Noah's fingers dig into Ronan's shoulders, and there's a slow, hard hiss of breath. His words trail into a psychic litany of feeling - adoration, anticipation, passion. He holds onto Ronan like a brace, arms tightening around his shoulders and knees quivering against his thighs.
Finally, after a moment - and a couple of deep breaths - he eases down a little further.
It isn't comfortable, not yet, but it isn't as bad as he was expecting. It's... pressure, hot pressure, and an ache, more so than with Gansey. He presses his face into Ronan's shoulder, softly nuzzling with his nose, hoping to instill as much calm and love as he can.
It's fine. I'm fine. I love you.
He breathes in, then out, then in again, before lifting his hips up - hot skin moving against hot skin, torturously slow and small - and sinking back down, another inch father than before. This time, he lets out a half-stifled whine, his mouth open against Ronan's shoulder.]
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