[Ronan hums in assent, a sound that vibrates up his throat and over Kylo's skin. It's true. Ronan belongs to him completely. He has a single purpose now: to serve as a vessel, to be the object that brings Kylo ecstasy. Every other thought slides from his mind.
Though Kylo drives the movement, Ronan's tongue responds as best as he can manage, with enticing strokes and soft pressure. His mouth is pillowy and warm, growing tighter the deeper Kylo plunges.]
[ He'd expected Ronan's obedience- willing, accepting obedience- but this is much, much more. Kylo takes what he wants and Ronan urges and encourages, his dedication so complete and perfect it leaves Kylo breathlessly chasing after it. Deeper, his thrusts a little faster, his senses flooding with pleasure.
Ronan doesn't need telepathy for this. Kylo delights in his possession, more than willing to take Ronan closer and closer to his limits. ]
[With every thrust, it becomes more and more difficult to catch his breath. Each gasp is cut short by wet suction, and as Kylo's cock hits the back of his throat, reflexive tears gather in Ronan's eyes. It isn't easy, being fucked like this. His arms ache in Kylo's grip. The lack of air leaves him feverish and dizzy.
And despite all that, Ronan doesn't want it to end. He loves being used like this. It reminds him of Kylo's dreams of him, in which he exists for no reason but to fulfill Kylo's needs. There's a deep comfort in losing himself to someone else's will.]
[ Kylo's chest shudders with sharp breaths, his pulse pounding- he feels Ronan's aching limbs throbbing through him, the heavy, dreamlike haze soaking through- and he loves it, he loves everything about it, he wants it to last forever--
But it can't. He can feel the tension building, familiar and sweet, the perfection of claiming Ronan for himself rapidly becoming his undoing. A low groan slips past his lips, his hand cupping Ronan's jaw.
Is he ready? Is he willing? Can Ronan give him this one last gift? ]
[In this moment, Ronan would do anything for him. His eyes flutter open to gaze up at Kylo, worshipful and wanting. He tilts his head back to take Kylo deeper, his jaw slack in Kylo's palm. Fresh tears roll down his cheeks, but he isn't pleading for Kylo to stop. He wants to be used up. Kylo's euphoria is Ronan's, too.
It's impossible to draw in another breath. With Kylo pounding down his throat, Ronan is silently choking on him. His body quivers with the struggle and each thrust flashes light across Ronan's vision. His tongue presses against Kylo's thick shaft, squeezing him tight, stroking with the last of his strength.
Now it's time for Kylo to give something to Ronan.]
It's a wild, feverish moment of conquest and surrender as he breaks, hips jerking violently. He feels everything, absolutely everything- his senses spill out of his body until he isn't certain whose face is wet with tears, whose thighs are trembling, who is buried deep in the tight, wet heat and who is burning for air. The boundaries blend into irrelevance, all of it conspiring together to rob him of any thought at all beyond bright, sparking bliss. ]
[As Kylo erupts, his heat floods Ronan's throat, and Ronan can do nothing but swallow it down or else drown in it. With Kylo seized by climax, he can't even move. He's trapped with his arms stretched overhead and his jaw locked in Kylo's grip. Lightheaded, skin burning, Ronan loses his strength now that he's accomplished his task. He sinks with exhaustion and suffocation, his muscles going slack.]
[ Kylo won't let Ronan slump to the floor like something he's discarded. He doesn't want to let go of him at all. But he won't risk causing him actual distress, either, and he can feel Ronan's discomfort sliding into something more dangerous. He pulls out and staggers back just far enough to give him room to breathe, not yet releasing his hold on his hands, though his grip on Ronan's jaw loosens into a touch indistinguishable from a soft caress. His thumb swipes over the wet track of a tear, his dark, hazy eyes watching Ronan's face.
He's made his point. Ronan's made his. But he's not finished with him. His voice is a low murmur, thick with satisfaction. ]
[Ronan sucks in a gulp of air as soon as Kylo pulls out, grateful to be kept upright, because otherwise he'd be doubling over on the floor. It takes him a few seconds to really catch his breath as he gasps and he pants. He presses his cheek into Kylo's touch, nuzzling, then nodding. His throat feels a bit too swollen to attempt speaking just yet, but he'll go wherever Kylo wants to take him.]
[ He doesn't need to speak. He doesn't need to do anything at all. Kylo has him. He doesn't rely soley on the physical strength of limbs made clumsy with exertion. Ronan's weight is cushioned and supported by Kylo's will to hold and possess him, threaded invisibly through the air around them. He stoops down- and partly because it amuses him, lets Ronan's arms fall around his neck as he scoops him up into his arms.
It's only a few paces to the bed, and it isn't difficult to lay Ronan down on it. He runs a thoughtful hand over his chest to the wide belt of Ronan's costume, then slides on the bed with him, straddling his thighs. ]
I think you might breathe easier without all this... but I have to admit. I am enjoying the view.
[Though it must be a ridiculous sight, Ronan secretly enjoys being on this side of the equation, for once. He allows Kylo to carry him without complaint, and when Kylo settles on top of him, Ronan's pleasure is impossible to ignore. His task had been difficult, but he obviously loved every moment of it.]
I don't need to breathe.
[Words that aren't very convincing when they're uttered so raspily.]
[Ronan had only been kidding, but that response brings heat to his already-flushed face. He tips his head up to meet Kylo's kiss, and his heart does something dangerous, fluttering with an emotion best unexplored. He wonders distantly whose emotion that is: Kylo's or his own. It's possible he's still under a spell.]
[ Kylo has no firmer understanding of the warmth that twists in him as they kiss than Ronan does- only that it builds rather than diminishes, thrumming between them. And while it may have begun as a joke, he'd meant the word, in its entirety. He seals it to Ronan's lips. His jaw. His pulse, just above the raised collar snug around his neck. ]
You're certain you don't want my help. Getting out of this.
[ He kisses his neck again before drawing back up onto his knees, giving himself room to work on unfastening the various layers Ronan's trapped in- but first, those dead arms of his. He takes them, one after the other, and carefully pulls off the leather gloves, pressing his lips to Ronan's knuckles. ]
If I have to do all the work, I'm not sure it's worth it.
[Oh, Ronan likes that very much, being manipulated like that when he truly can't will his own limbs to move. He wasn't kidding; they're really asleep. Kylo's mouth against his hand only sends a tingling prickle down his nerves.]
You can't punish me then punish me again. That's not fair.
[ Kylo's lingering smile suggests he's enjoying this very much too. Having gently placed Ronan's heavy limbs back down beside his body he moves on to the task at hand- all these thick, padded layers. It's a very different experience, undressing someone else from this particular set of clothes, and he's not aiming for getting Ronan naked so much as getting access to the hard heat he can feel trapped under them. Opening up the heavy collar around Ronan's neck is a tangentially related act of mercy.
Once he has Ronan down to the shirt and pants with the rest of it laying crumpled around him, he runs both hands possessively over the tight material hugging Ronan's muscular chest, leaving the taut strain of his pants well alone for now. ]
I haven't punished you even once. Though it sounds like... you think you deserve it...
[Ronan only gets harder with every layer Kylo peels off of him, but he maintains his patience, enjoying the process too much to rush it. Especially once Kylo's hands are exploring his muscles. He truly does love to be admired.]
Of course I deserve it. I've been so bad, stealing your things.
[ Kylo takes his time exploring the firm contours hardly hidden under the form-fitting material, not quite able to resist rolling Ronan's nipple between his thumb and forefinger in a slow, twisting pinch. ]
Is that the sin you think you've committed. Interesting.
[Ronan hisses softly, his cock pulsing in response.]
What's my real sin, then?
[Besides... all of this. This whole filthy affair with a mass murderer ten years his senior. God, but Ronan wants him. Increasingly, with every passing second. He has to fight to keep himself still, when all his hips want to do is rut up against Kylo.]
[ Kylo's expression shifts sharp with that reaction, with the building desire he can feel radiating out from Ronan's body, his mind... And he finds he wants more. More hissed breaths. He wants Ronan's body arching. Trembling. ]
Why did you take my things, Ronan?
[ He murmurs the question, his eyes dark with intention, fingertips skating feather-light over Ronan's chest. A low-level, tingling crawl follows their path. Nothing more, just yet. An interrogation, indeed. ]
[Ronan's lashes flutter. The air feels suddenly charged, the uneasy stillness before a lightning strike. His eyes sweep back up to Kylo.]
You wish.
[Yes, he'd wanted Kylo to see him. It would have been an unfair tease, though, if he had. Ronan wouldn't have been free to pursue him back then. The only satisfaction he could have would be Kylo's reaction to the sight. So he'd wanted Kylo to see him, and to think about him, and to suffer with a desire left unrequited. Truly wicked intentions.]
[ Well that won't do. Apparently, Ronan needs a little encouragement to confess.
Kylo watches him. He lifts his hand, touch impossibly gentle as his fingertips skim Ronan's lips. So soft, still reddened. He loves Ronan's mouth. A tiny crackle of electricity dances between his fingers, sparks to Ronan's lips. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Though Kylo drives the movement, Ronan's tongue responds as best as he can manage, with enticing strokes and soft pressure. His mouth is pillowy and warm, growing tighter the deeper Kylo plunges.]
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Ronan doesn't need telepathy for this. Kylo delights in his possession, more than willing to take Ronan closer and closer to his limits. ]
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And despite all that, Ronan doesn't want it to end. He loves being used like this. It reminds him of Kylo's dreams of him, in which he exists for no reason but to fulfill Kylo's needs. There's a deep comfort in losing himself to someone else's will.]
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But it can't. He can feel the tension building, familiar and sweet, the perfection of claiming Ronan for himself rapidly becoming his undoing. A low groan slips past his lips, his hand cupping Ronan's jaw.
Is he ready? Is he willing? Can Ronan give him this one last gift? ]
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It's impossible to draw in another breath. With Kylo pounding down his throat, Ronan is silently choking on him. His body quivers with the struggle and each thrust flashes light across Ronan's vision. His tongue presses against Kylo's thick shaft, squeezing him tight, stroking with the last of his strength.
Now it's time for Kylo to give something to Ronan.]
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It's a wild, feverish moment of conquest and surrender as he breaks, hips jerking violently. He feels everything, absolutely everything- his senses spill out of his body until he isn't certain whose face is wet with tears, whose thighs are trembling, who is buried deep in the tight, wet heat and who is burning for air. The boundaries blend into irrelevance, all of it conspiring together to rob him of any thought at all beyond bright, sparking bliss. ]
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But he won't risk causing him actual distress, either, and he can feel Ronan's discomfort sliding into something more dangerous. He pulls out and staggers back just far enough to give him room to breathe, not yet releasing his hold on his hands, though his grip on Ronan's jaw loosens into a touch indistinguishable from a soft caress. His thumb swipes over the wet track of a tear, his dark, hazy eyes watching Ronan's face.
He's made his point. Ronan's made his. But he's not finished with him. His voice is a low murmur, thick with satisfaction. ]
Bed?
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Kylo has him.
He doesn't rely soley on the physical strength of limbs made clumsy with exertion. Ronan's weight is cushioned and supported by Kylo's will to hold and possess him, threaded invisibly through the air around them. He stoops down- and partly because it amuses him, lets Ronan's arms fall around his neck as he scoops him up into his arms.
It's only a few paces to the bed, and it isn't difficult to lay Ronan down on it. He runs a thoughtful hand over his chest to the wide belt of Ronan's costume, then slides on the bed with him, straddling his thighs. ]
I think you might breathe easier without all this... but I have to admit. I am enjoying the view.
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I don't need to breathe.
[Words that aren't very convincing when they're uttered so raspily.]
Keep admiring. It makes me feel beautiful.
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You are.
[ He leans in over him, his weight supported on a firm hand planted by Ronan's head- and he kisses his soft, swollen lips, murmuring praise. ]
Beautiful.
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And while it may have begun as a joke, he'd meant the word, in its entirety. He seals it to Ronan's lips. His jaw. His pulse, just above the raised collar snug around his neck. ]
You're certain you don't want my help. Getting out of this.
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[If you know what he means.]
You'll have to do all the work. My arms are dead.
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Oh, all the work?
[ He kisses his neck again before drawing back up onto his knees, giving himself room to work on unfastening the various layers Ronan's trapped in- but first, those dead arms of his. He takes them, one after the other, and carefully pulls off the leather gloves, pressing his lips to Ronan's knuckles. ]
If I have to do all the work, I'm not sure it's worth it.
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You can't punish me then punish me again. That's not fair.
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[ Kylo's lingering smile suggests he's enjoying this very much too. Having gently placed Ronan's heavy limbs back down beside his body he moves on to the task at hand- all these thick, padded layers.
It's a very different experience, undressing someone else from this particular set of clothes, and he's not aiming for getting Ronan naked so much as getting access to the hard heat he can feel trapped under them. Opening up the heavy collar around Ronan's neck is a tangentially related act of mercy.
Once he has Ronan down to the shirt and pants with the rest of it laying crumpled around him, he runs both hands possessively over the tight material hugging Ronan's muscular chest, leaving the taut strain of his pants well alone for now. ]
I haven't punished you even once. Though it sounds like... you think you deserve it...
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Of course I deserve it. I've been so bad, stealing your things.
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Is that the sin you think you've committed. Interesting.
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What's my real sin, then?
[Besides... all of this. This whole filthy affair with a mass murderer ten years his senior. God, but Ronan wants him. Increasingly, with every passing second. He has to fight to keep himself still, when all his hips want to do is rut up against Kylo.]
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And he finds he wants more. More hissed breaths. He wants Ronan's body arching. Trembling. ]
Why did you take my things, Ronan?
[ He murmurs the question, his eyes dark with intention, fingertips skating feather-light over Ronan's chest.
A low-level, tingling crawl follows their path. Nothing more, just yet.
An interrogation, indeed. ]
You wanted me to see you wearing them...
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You wish.
[Yes, he'd wanted Kylo to see him. It would have been an unfair tease, though, if he had. Ronan wouldn't have been free to pursue him back then. The only satisfaction he could have would be Kylo's reaction to the sight. So he'd wanted Kylo to see him, and to think about him, and to suffer with a desire left unrequited. Truly wicked intentions.]
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Kylo watches him. He lifts his hand, touch impossibly gentle as his fingertips skim Ronan's lips. So soft, still reddened. He loves Ronan's mouth.
A tiny crackle of electricity dances between his fingers, sparks to Ronan's lips. ]
Try again.
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Maybe I just thought it'd be fun.
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