Somehow, in the chaos that begins to ensue in the afternoon, Kylo gets separated from the others. It's understandable, in a way— his purpose here is personal, or at least it is once the various faerie magics have him convinced his earlier idle fantasy of a once-banished prince returning to reclaim his throne is very real— but once he's taken the edge off his violently powerful urge to wreak havoc and indulge in some wanton destruction, Kylo begins to wonder just where his favourite possession has wandered off to.
Surely, he hasn't taken this opportunity to try and escape, has he?
Heatedly, Kylo begins to search for him, scattering frightened townsfolk as he stalks through the marketplace with flaming sword in hand. His victory won't be complete until he sits on the throne once stolen from him with Ronan at his feet.
Ronan, who has not realized he's supposed to still be playing the part of the captive fairy princess, sits at the corner of an otherwise empty picnic table towards the outer edges of the food vendor area. He doesn't plan on moving, either, because there's a good deal of shade as long as he stays near the trees and he gets to avoid the crowd. He has a stein of cold beer in hand and he intends to keep drinking it until someone summons him by phone.
It's a mild surprise when he glances up to see Kylo barreling down the concourse with his legitimately terrifying sword drawn. Ronan pauses mid-gulp and slowly lowers his stein, then gives Kylo a little wave. Hi, he's over here.
A slow and decidedly dangerous smile spreads across Kylo's face as he turns, his long strides carrying him in a very straight line towards his prize. Ronan may not realise he's supposed to be in character, but Kylo knows precisely what he is. And what should be done with him.
"Hoping I'd forget about you?" He accuses in a low murmur as he stalks around the table, sliding in close behind Ronan and leaning over him.
Ronan shivers, though likely not for the same reason his character would. He rolls his head back so that it's nearly (but not quite) tucked into the crook of Kylo's neck, and purrs, "I know you'd never."
"Never," Kylo agrees. The hand not currently curled around the hilt of a magic-infused greatsword slides around Ronan's body, fingertips resting on his sternum for a moment— then drags up, following an inevitable path along his line of symmetry. He indulges himself in the slow capture of Ronan's bared chest, his throat, drawing him against the solidity of himself, tipping his chin up and pressing his head back until he's effectively pinned there, a taut stretch and strain to be admired for its beauty.
There's no resistance from Ronan, who by now has gotten quite used to being caressed and groped and pinned without any warning. He drapes back against Kylo at his direction and submits to his wandering hand, a sound of approval rumbling against the palm at his throat.
"Have you come to steal me away again?"
Ronan certainly hopes so. He'd rather be dragged into the woods than force himself to behave while Kylo cruelly toys with him.
Kylo doesn't seem to see any necessity to take Ronan anywhere. And why would he? Ronan belongs to him. This land and its people, too. Why shouldn't he touch whatever he wants?
"Steal you from what?" he asks in a low murmur, his lips brushing Ronan's ear.
Temporarily abandoning his sword to coil that arm around Ronan too, he slides his palm down over the exposed and undeniably promising contours of his body, unashamedly possessive.
Ronan laughs, but he's also squirming. This is getting very heated very fast. Though they're reasonably distanced from the other revelers, they're not out of sight. And as Kylo knows too well, it doesn't take much teasing to push Ronan from flustered to obscene.
"I'm not sure they need to know it that personally," he protests as he reaches for Kylo's hand to pry it off his skin. Gently. He's not saying no, he's just saying not right here.
More than willing to crush a little rebellion, Kylo isn't so easily redirected. The more insistent Ronan's protest, the harder he tries to peel Kylo's hands away, the firmer Kylo's hold becomes.
"Not so willing to be a spectacle now," he observes. His teeth don't quite catch at the vulnerable stretch of Ronan's throat. "Are you."
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RENFAIRE FAERIE MAGIC NONSENSE
Surely, he hasn't taken this opportunity to try and escape, has he?
Heatedly, Kylo begins to search for him, scattering frightened townsfolk as he stalks through the marketplace with flaming sword in hand. His victory won't be complete until he sits on the throne once stolen from him with Ronan at his feet.
no subject
It's a mild surprise when he glances up to see Kylo barreling down the concourse with his legitimately terrifying sword drawn. Ronan pauses mid-gulp and slowly lowers his stein, then gives Kylo a little wave. Hi, he's over here.
no subject
A slow and decidedly dangerous smile spreads across Kylo's face as he turns, his long strides carrying him in a very straight line towards his prize. Ronan may not realise he's supposed to be in character, but Kylo knows precisely what he is. And what should be done with him.
"Hoping I'd forget about you?" He accuses in a low murmur as he stalks around the table, sliding in close behind Ronan and leaning over him.
no subject
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"How could I ever forget this?"
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"Have you come to steal me away again?"
Ronan certainly hopes so. He'd rather be dragged into the woods than force himself to behave while Kylo cruelly toys with him.
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"Steal you from what?" he asks in a low murmur, his lips brushing Ronan's ear.
Temporarily abandoning his sword to coil that arm around Ronan too, he slides his palm down over the exposed and undeniably promising contours of his body, unashamedly possessive.
"You're already mine. They all know it."
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Ronan laughs, but he's also squirming. This is getting very heated very fast. Though they're reasonably distanced from the other revelers, they're not out of sight. And as Kylo knows too well, it doesn't take much teasing to push Ronan from flustered to obscene.
"I'm not sure they need to know it that personally," he protests as he reaches for Kylo's hand to pry it off his skin. Gently. He's not saying no, he's just saying not right here.
no subject
More than willing to crush a little rebellion, Kylo isn't so easily redirected. The more insistent Ronan's protest, the harder he tries to peel Kylo's hands away, the firmer Kylo's hold becomes.
"Not so willing to be a spectacle now," he observes. His teeth don't quite catch at the vulnerable stretch of Ronan's throat. "Are you."