[Kavinsky was far more than a casual observer of Ronan Lynch; which was to say that he noticed the differences. It pleased him, made his heart skip a little as he invited him in and closed the door behind them. Neither of them was anything that could be considered dressed up, but they'd both made an effort, and that meant something to Kavinsky. It meant that maybe he wasn't alone in this thing -- wasn't alone in wanting it to mean something.
He'd sort of expected Ronan to be endearingly oblivious, and that trying to make something out of this would be like temptation or a devil's bargain. He was, of course, the best thing that Kavinsky had ever wanted to steal. Instead, while Ronan might not have brought flowers, or be reaching out to hold his hand, it was still... he somehow seemed complicit. It felt like maybe this wasn't something he had to steal at all, which was an intoxicating sort of thought, that reminded him of waking up and Ronan still there all over again. Kavinsky had never really considered it before: after all, who would look at him and say I want to keep him?
Ronan Lynch. Maybe.
He grins, warm with affection at the question, and he shrugs his shoulders even if he likes that Ronan noticed. That he recognizes that it's different, that it means something.]
Yeah, you know- thought I'd try out something new. I figured if you didn't like it I could just let you strip it off me.
[It's an easy sort of flirtation, cheeky with a lift of an eyebrow as he looks at the other boy. Kavinsky was rather fond of any excuse to get Ronan's hands on his body, of course. But there's a sort of honesty there, too. The implication that if Kavinsky was cleaned up a little bit nicer than usual, it was because of Ronan.]
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He'd sort of expected Ronan to be endearingly oblivious, and that trying to make something out of this would be like temptation or a devil's bargain. He was, of course, the best thing that Kavinsky had ever wanted to steal. Instead, while Ronan might not have brought flowers, or be reaching out to hold his hand, it was still... he somehow seemed complicit. It felt like maybe this wasn't something he had to steal at all, which was an intoxicating sort of thought, that reminded him of waking up and Ronan still there all over again. Kavinsky had never really considered it before: after all, who would look at him and say I want to keep him?
Ronan Lynch. Maybe.
He grins, warm with affection at the question, and he shrugs his shoulders even if he likes that Ronan noticed. That he recognizes that it's different, that it means something.]
Yeah, you know- thought I'd try out something new. I figured if you didn't like it I could just let you strip it off me.
[It's an easy sort of flirtation, cheeky with a lift of an eyebrow as he looks at the other boy. Kavinsky was rather fond of any excuse to get Ronan's hands on his body, of course. But there's a sort of honesty there, too. The implication that if Kavinsky was cleaned up a little bit nicer than usual, it was because of Ronan.]