[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.]
[Ronan doesn't entirely believe that Noah's fine. But he's willing to submit to Noah's judgment. Remembering to breathe, Ronan sucks in sharply and exhales a shuddering moan. Noah is so tight around him, it almost hurts. With that squeeze, though, comes an exquisite pleasure. Every inch sends a shiver through him, his breath escaping in a choked ha each time Noah moves. A buzz overcomes his anxiety and he begins to forget his worry, massaged away by Noah's sweet thoughts in his head.
Noah searches for their rhythm and Ronan's arms shed their paralysis, remembering to hold him. One hand pushes through Noah's hair, coaxing, while the other settles on his hip to steady him and help him move. And as they both relax into it, Ronan begins to let himself enjoy the fuck. He can feel every shift of Noah's muscles around his cock and he grows hotter and harder at the feeling of Noah surrounding him.]
[Ronan's enjoyment sparks back across their mental connection, and Noah seems to both tense and relax at the same time. He swivels his hips just slightly, almost an involuntary reaction, and the friction pulls out another whine.
Nothing in the history of the world has ever been more beautiful than this, than Ronan Lynch cradled close inside of him, adoring him so entirely. It fills Noah's heart with staggering love, and raw lust, and with the next stroke up, he comes down even farther. Another whine resolves in a throaty groan, which he muffles in Ronan's neck.]
[Ronan echoes the sound, straining to keep his hips from thrusting upward. He desperately wants to push deeper, but he knows they're not there yet. How much he's allowed to take is still up to Noah.
His body aching to do something more, Ronan explores Noah with his hands. His fingers slip from Noah's hair and trace down his spine until his palm comes to rest flat between Noah's bony shoulder blades. The other hand finds Noah's cock again, determined to pleasure him. Ronan knows this isn't easy, but he can make it feel better. While his own cock pulses, needing more, inside Noah, Ronan's palm glides up and down Noah's length.]
You're doing so good.
[His lips brush Noah's temple. The whisper's probably unnecessary. He's sure Noah can feel it, his gratitude and desire. Ronan wants him so much. He can't believe they've come this far.]
[The hand around his cock steps up the game, and Noah's hands scrabble for purchase behind Ronan's shoulders. His hips give a little buck, and he pulls Ronan in another fraction of an inch.]
So are you. [It comes out on a little laugh of a breath, and he means it. It may not have reached the point of pure pleasure for him yet, but Ronan is an incredibly gentle and patient partner.
Following the stroke of Ronan's hand, Noah tries again to relax his muscles. He feels for a rhythm, presses into Ronan's mind to look for what he needs, and when he's satisfied that his body is ready, he rocks his hips up and then back down, taking in as much as he can, once and then twice.
It's on the second stroke that something seems to spark, vague and slight. It's buried under the aching, stretching pressure, but it tugs another moan out of his throat, higher and needier than the last. His muscles tighten again, and his teeth find Ronan's shoulder.
[Ronan's breath escapes in a half-spoken string of curses with every inch Noah takes. Noah's body strains around him, squeezing him so hard he can feel Noah's heartbeat, throbbing just slightly faster than his own. Every time Noah moves and sinks him further, the pleasure of it runs through him anew. It can't possibly be getting better and better, but it feels like it is.
And when Noah begs him to move, Ronan exhales with relief and sheds the tension of holding himself back. His hips rock upward with a thrust that - he realizes too late - might be more than Noah intended. The second thrust is still too fast but not as deep, and with the third, Ronan regains some control. He squeezes Noah's hip to keep him steady, fingernails biting into his skin.]
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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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Noah searches for their rhythm and Ronan's arms shed their paralysis, remembering to hold him. One hand pushes through Noah's hair, coaxing, while the other settles on his hip to steady him and help him move. And as they both relax into it, Ronan begins to let himself enjoy the fuck. He can feel every shift of Noah's muscles around his cock and he grows hotter and harder at the feeling of Noah surrounding him.]
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Nothing in the history of the world has ever been more beautiful than this, than Ronan Lynch cradled close inside of him, adoring him so entirely. It fills Noah's heart with staggering love, and raw lust, and with the next stroke up, he comes down even farther. Another whine resolves in a throaty groan, which he muffles in Ronan's neck.]
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His body aching to do something more, Ronan explores Noah with his hands. His fingers slip from Noah's hair and trace down his spine until his palm comes to rest flat between Noah's bony shoulder blades. The other hand finds Noah's cock again, determined to pleasure him. Ronan knows this isn't easy, but he can make it feel better. While his own cock pulses, needing more, inside Noah, Ronan's palm glides up and down Noah's length.]
You're doing so good.
[His lips brush Noah's temple. The whisper's probably unnecessary. He's sure Noah can feel it, his gratitude and desire. Ronan wants him so much. He can't believe they've come this far.]
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So are you. [It comes out on a little laugh of a breath, and he means it. It may not have reached the point of pure pleasure for him yet, but Ronan is an incredibly gentle and patient partner.
Following the stroke of Ronan's hand, Noah tries again to relax his muscles. He feels for a rhythm, presses into Ronan's mind to look for what he needs, and when he's satisfied that his body is ready, he rocks his hips up and then back down, taking in as much as he can, once and then twice.
It's on the second stroke that something seems to spark, vague and slight. It's buried under the aching, stretching pressure, but it tugs another moan out of his throat, higher and needier than the last. His muscles tighten again, and his teeth find Ronan's shoulder.
Move a little. You can move a little. Please.]
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And when Noah begs him to move, Ronan exhales with relief and sheds the tension of holding himself back. His hips rock upward with a thrust that - he realizes too late - might be more than Noah intended. The second thrust is still too fast but not as deep, and with the third, Ronan regains some control. He squeezes Noah's hip to keep him steady, fingernails biting into his skin.]
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