"I feel it," Kylo assures him, pressing his wild urge to laugh into a kiss. Can he feel it? The warmth radiating out from the core of Ronan's being, the bright, bursting light he can only bear because it is his, all for him, all of it, fearlessly pouring out as a beacon to guide him home? He feels certain it could reach him anywhere, wherever he was— and right now, with his whole self wrapped around it and bathed in it, it might as well be the only thing in existence.
"You," he says, barely able to tear himself away from showing his devotion to Ronan's lips, his cheek, his jaw, the throbbing reminder of lifeblood pulsing under the tender stretch of skin just behind it long enough to murmur in his ear, "Ronan... you are all I can feel."
And he loves it. He basks in it, reflecting back the overflow every way his clumsy, infant heart knows how, long having come to the end of words. He chases Ronan's pulse down the column of his throat, as far as he can trace the path without pulling too far away from the warm loop of his arms.
As far as Ronan's concerned, this clumsy affection is perfect. The irrefutable truth of Kylo's love soaks into his skin with each kiss. And to him, it doesn't feel like moonlight. This is Kylo's own fire, burning bright as the sun. Ronan didn't grant him the ability to love for the first time. He only gave Kylo a place to put that love, a vessel that wouldn't neglect or abuse it.
Head lolling back, he bares his throat to Kylo's mouth, dragging fingers through his hair to encourage this claiming. Let Kylo remind himself that every inch of this body belongs to him. Fresh tears spill from his eyes and he breathes another near-laugh.
Please, he starts to pray to God for this to last, for this to be the greatest love he'll ever know. But it's not a prayer for God's ear, is it? He changes course midway and prays to Kylo instead, Keep me and don't let me go.
Yes, the last time he'd begged that, the world nearly ended. But if it ever comes to that again, maybe the world should end for them.
He hardly needs the encouragement, though he responds eagerly— Ronan is due this and every other possible demonstration of his love he can invent. He's overdue. Kylo had never meant to deprive Ronan of anything with his failure to recognise and give name to his feelings— but he's determined, now. He will never, ever leave Ronan in enough doubt to imagine himself unloved. Ever again.
But he's momentarily distracted from his adoration of Ronan's skin by a prayer turned in his direction, a plea that reminds him how they got here— Apollo's soulmate who had abandoned him.
He nuzzles into the warmth of Ronan's neck, his answer a low, rumbling promise:
"I am never letting you go, Ronan. Even if loving you destroys me. Even if it costs me everything else. Do you understand? You've become a part of me. You're a part of me I'm not willing to exist without."
He doesn't want to imagine that loving him could ever destroy Kylo, though Ronan knows so many others that came before were destroyed by their love for him. He wants to be the thing that makes Kylo stronger, not weaker, and if he fails at that, is he worth loving any longer?
No. He knows the answer is no, and the right thing would be to say it. But he can't.
Because Kylo's a part of him, now, too. Some days, they're not separate for a single moment. He inhabits Kylo's body almost as often as he remains in his own, and even when they're apart, he can feel Kylo in his mind, wrapped around his thoughts like a vise. What would he be without his master, anymore? As good as a corpse.
Shame creeps up his chest as he confesses in a whisper, "I don't wanna ruin you. But I don't wanna go anywhere without you. Not Heaven or Hell or anywhere else. Not again."
Kylo's lips pull into a curve. Ronan doesn't get it, does he? He hasn't grasped it. But far from being frustrated by the misunderstanding, Kylo finds himself warmed by the prospect of gifting Ronan another moment of rediscovery, if he can just find the words.
He draws himself up Ronan's throat, slow, lavishing him with praise in the form of kisses. Yes, he feels that heat of shame. How could he not? But if Ronan will surrender it to him, Kylo won't rest until he can show him how it was glory all along. He rewards Ronan's lips for letting the words out, then lifts his head to seek Ronan's eyes in the dark.
"You don't know what you are," Kylo murmurs, pausing to resettle his weight and propping himself up above him on an elbow. His other hand slides indulgently through Ronan's hair. "Do you. You don't see what you are to me, what you give to me. You can't ruin me, Ronan. Not if you choose to stay at my side."
He leans in, kissing him softly, and murmurs:
"You are my strength. And I will fight your Heaven. Your Hell. I will fight it all to keep you with me."
This shouldn't be what he wants. But if God loved him half as much as Kylo Ren does, maybe he'd be strong enough to resist the temptation.
God doesn't love Ronan Lynch. He has been silent for as long as Ronan has listened for Him, abandoning him with his questions and his loneliness. If God isn't his creator, nor his guide, nor his peer... would Heaven even want Ronan? What could he even find there, if not love or answers?
Ronan savors the kiss, grateful beyond words, and when it breaks, his breath trembles. Though God has never heard Ronan before, all this whispered heresy is terrifying. It's such an awful comfort, too. He doesn't doubt that Kylo would - that he could - fight Heaven and Hell for him. This isn't a promise spoken metaphor or poetry. Kylo will surrender him to nothing in the universe.
"That's what I want," he confirms, his voice hushed. "Keep me. I'll always choose you."
Had he ever felt as strong as this before he'd found Ronan? Laying here with their bodies pressed together so close he can feel Ronan's heartbeat almost as clearly as his own he coils himself around him, surrounding and shielding— and in turn, Ronan wraps him in his arms and the incredible warmth of faith.
He can't think of a time. No-one else has ever believed in him as Ronan does.
"That's all I need," Kylo says, a strong hand cradling the side of Ronan's face. "If you can choose this, if you can keep choosing this, you, with me— you make me unstoppable. Do you understand? Ronan, I want... I want you to swear it to me. That you'll never try to leave me because you think it best for me to be without you. Can you promise me."
Ronan never takes a promise lightly, and this one isn't any different. He holds his breath, biting back the affirmation that wants to spill immediately from his lips, because the thing he wants so much to give isn't always the thing he's capable of giving.
Can he promise? If he ever finds himself in that position, will he be able to choose ruin for the man he loves? He may be Kylo's greatest strength now, but if he ever becomes the greatest threat to him, can he stay? Which of these terrible options would be the worst crime against his beloved?
But the measure here isn't the universal right-or-wrong. This is Kylo's wish, and Ronan in a position to grant it, and all of it depending on their faith in one another: Kylo's faith that Ronan will stay and Ronan's faith that Kylo needs him above all.
"I promise," Ronan swears, leaning in to Kylo's touch. "I believe in us."
Kylo doesn't realise he's caught in the moment the meaning of those words falls into place until the burn in his chest reminds him to breathe— a shuddering tear between his ribs. He'd felt sure Ronan would say yes. He hadn't known he would say that.
And he hadn't known that was the real reassurance he was looking for until he heard it voiced and felt it pressed into his palm with the warmth of Ronan's cheek. For all his declarations of strength and the way he's framed the scene with himself as Ronan's guardian and keeper, Kylo's grateful for the low light hiding the way his face doesn't know how to twist in the stunned silence.
"Us," he agrees in a bursting rush, already knowing there's nothing he could say that could contain everything it needs to. But isn't us enough? He's never had one before. He isn't certain anyone has ever had an us like the two of them become.
He isn't certain he should be so desperate to prove it either— having found out that words were something Ronan was missing all this time, it's easy to imagine that relying on the physical now would be some kind of failing— but he can't make himself stop. He has to kiss Ronan. Touch him. Be inside him.
"Ronan," he urges hungrily as he presses closer still, already imagining the loop of his arms drawing tight as a noose.
Ronan has heard the words he needed to hear. Apparently, so has Kylo. There's no failure now in putting words aside and resuming the conversation in their native language of raw physicality. Their bodies belong together. Ronan hardly knows who he is anymore without Kylo's touch to ground him or Kylo's will to shape him. His limbs fold around Kylo and draw him in, capturing him. A lissome spring trap.
Their mouths find each other. Ronan drags his lips over Kylo's and parts them to seek out his tongue. His breath shudders with a heat he himself can barely contain. No, he wants to be the thing that Kylo can't resist. He wants Kylo to possess him in every way that pleases him. He wants Kylo to hunt him again and again as long as they live.
Whispering into his kisses, Ronan answers, "Do it." Not that he believes Kylo needs to wait for his permission. He wants Kylo to hear it, though, as easily as he can feel it. "Don't hold back. I want you always."
A low groan spills from Kylo's mouth as he lets his lips part, welcoming the invasion— the reminder. As much as he aches to drive himself deep into the wild heat of Ronan's body until their edges melt into irrelevance, he longs for this, too— Ronan, coiling around and winding through him. Ronan claiming all the hollowed out places inside him as his own and taking residence there, delighting in the singular privilege of being the one and only creature in all of creation Kylo chooses to give himself to.
He loves to sink into the ever-tightening trap of Ronan's arms, just as he loves to feel Ronan moving inside him. Tongues and fingers twist and tangle. Blood thumps hot, heavy, each heartbeat acquiring a juddering echo where their bodies crush together. Sliding and dragging against his, Ronan's skin is intoxicating. Kylo's hips shift and roll with a smooth promise of power, breaking into a long shudder as Ronan voices the desire he can feel throbbing through the both of them— because it isn't permission he's waiting for. They both know there's nothing but Kylo's rapidly dwindling willpower between them and the way their bodies know to prove connection to each other. He's holding back because he wants Ronan to feel the very moment his control fails. He wants every gasped breath and fiercely possessive kiss to serve as testament to a truth he never wants Ronan to forget.
He is wanted. So very, very powerfully wanted.
"Always," Kylo echoes, the struggle thick in his throat. His hand tears away and pushes between their bodies. "I always. Always want to give you what you want, what you need—"
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"You," he says, barely able to tear himself away from showing his devotion to Ronan's lips, his cheek, his jaw, the throbbing reminder of lifeblood pulsing under the tender stretch of skin just behind it long enough to murmur in his ear, "Ronan... you are all I can feel."
And he loves it. He basks in it, reflecting back the overflow every way his clumsy, infant heart knows how, long having come to the end of words. He chases Ronan's pulse down the column of his throat, as far as he can trace the path without pulling too far away from the warm loop of his arms.
no subject
Head lolling back, he bares his throat to Kylo's mouth, dragging fingers through his hair to encourage this claiming. Let Kylo remind himself that every inch of this body belongs to him. Fresh tears spill from his eyes and he breathes another near-laugh.
Please, he starts to pray to God for this to last, for this to be the greatest love he'll ever know. But it's not a prayer for God's ear, is it? He changes course midway and prays to Kylo instead, Keep me and don't let me go.
Yes, the last time he'd begged that, the world nearly ended. But if it ever comes to that again, maybe the world should end for them.
no subject
But he's momentarily distracted from his adoration of Ronan's skin by a prayer turned in his direction, a plea that reminds him how they got here— Apollo's soulmate who had abandoned him.
He nuzzles into the warmth of Ronan's neck, his answer a low, rumbling promise:
"I am never letting you go, Ronan. Even if loving you destroys me. Even if it costs me everything else. Do you understand? You've become a part of me. You're a part of me I'm not willing to exist without."
no subject
No. He knows the answer is no, and the right thing would be to say it. But he can't.
Because Kylo's a part of him, now, too. Some days, they're not separate for a single moment. He inhabits Kylo's body almost as often as he remains in his own, and even when they're apart, he can feel Kylo in his mind, wrapped around his thoughts like a vise. What would he be without his master, anymore? As good as a corpse.
Shame creeps up his chest as he confesses in a whisper, "I don't wanna ruin you. But I don't wanna go anywhere without you. Not Heaven or Hell or anywhere else. Not again."
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He draws himself up Ronan's throat, slow, lavishing him with praise in the form of kisses. Yes, he feels that heat of shame. How could he not? But if Ronan will surrender it to him, Kylo won't rest until he can show him how it was glory all along. He rewards Ronan's lips for letting the words out, then lifts his head to seek Ronan's eyes in the dark.
"You don't know what you are," Kylo murmurs, pausing to resettle his weight and propping himself up above him on an elbow. His other hand slides indulgently through Ronan's hair. "Do you. You don't see what you are to me, what you give to me. You can't ruin me, Ronan. Not if you choose to stay at my side."
He leans in, kissing him softly, and murmurs:
"You are my strength. And I will fight your Heaven. Your Hell. I will fight it all to keep you with me."
no subject
God doesn't love Ronan Lynch. He has been silent for as long as Ronan has listened for Him, abandoning him with his questions and his loneliness. If God isn't his creator, nor his guide, nor his peer... would Heaven even want Ronan? What could he even find there, if not love or answers?
Ronan savors the kiss, grateful beyond words, and when it breaks, his breath trembles. Though God has never heard Ronan before, all this whispered heresy is terrifying. It's such an awful comfort, too. He doesn't doubt that Kylo would - that he could - fight Heaven and Hell for him. This isn't a promise spoken metaphor or poetry. Kylo will surrender him to nothing in the universe.
"That's what I want," he confirms, his voice hushed. "Keep me. I'll always choose you."
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He can't think of a time. No-one else has ever believed in him as Ronan does.
"That's all I need," Kylo says, a strong hand cradling the side of Ronan's face. "If you can choose this, if you can keep choosing this, you, with me— you make me unstoppable. Do you understand? Ronan, I want... I want you to swear it to me. That you'll never try to leave me because you think it best for me to be without you. Can you promise me."
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Can he promise? If he ever finds himself in that position, will he be able to choose ruin for the man he loves? He may be Kylo's greatest strength now, but if he ever becomes the greatest threat to him, can he stay? Which of these terrible options would be the worst crime against his beloved?
But the measure here isn't the universal right-or-wrong. This is Kylo's wish, and Ronan in a position to grant it, and all of it depending on their faith in one another: Kylo's faith that Ronan will stay and Ronan's faith that Kylo needs him above all.
"I promise," Ronan swears, leaning in to Kylo's touch. "I believe in us."
no subject
And he hadn't known that was the real reassurance he was looking for until he heard it voiced and felt it pressed into his palm with the warmth of Ronan's cheek. For all his declarations of strength and the way he's framed the scene with himself as Ronan's guardian and keeper, Kylo's grateful for the low light hiding the way his face doesn't know how to twist in the stunned silence.
"Us," he agrees in a bursting rush, already knowing there's nothing he could say that could contain everything it needs to. But isn't us enough? He's never had one before. He isn't certain anyone has ever had an us like the two of them become.
He isn't certain he should be so desperate to prove it either— having found out that words were something Ronan was missing all this time, it's easy to imagine that relying on the physical now would be some kind of failing— but he can't make himself stop. He has to kiss Ronan. Touch him. Be inside him.
"Ronan," he urges hungrily as he presses closer still, already imagining the loop of his arms drawing tight as a noose.
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Their mouths find each other. Ronan drags his lips over Kylo's and parts them to seek out his tongue. His breath shudders with a heat he himself can barely contain. No, he wants to be the thing that Kylo can't resist. He wants Kylo to possess him in every way that pleases him. He wants Kylo to hunt him again and again as long as they live.
Whispering into his kisses, Ronan answers, "Do it." Not that he believes Kylo needs to wait for his permission. He wants Kylo to hear it, though, as easily as he can feel it. "Don't hold back. I want you always."
no subject
He loves to sink into the ever-tightening trap of Ronan's arms, just as he loves to feel Ronan moving inside him. Tongues and fingers twist and tangle. Blood thumps hot, heavy, each heartbeat acquiring a juddering echo where their bodies crush together. Sliding and dragging against his, Ronan's skin is intoxicating. Kylo's hips shift and roll with a smooth promise of power, breaking into a long shudder as Ronan voices the desire he can feel throbbing through the both of them— because it isn't permission he's waiting for. They both know there's nothing but Kylo's rapidly dwindling willpower between them and the way their bodies know to prove connection to each other. He's holding back because he wants Ronan to feel the very moment his control fails. He wants every gasped breath and fiercely possessive kiss to serve as testament to a truth he never wants Ronan to forget.
He is wanted. So very, very powerfully wanted.
"Always," Kylo echoes, the struggle thick in his throat. His hand tears away and pushes between their bodies. "I always. Always want to give you what you want, what you need—"