Ronan Lynch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
devilofaboy) wrote2022-01-10 09:25 pm
devilofaboy) wrote2022-01-10 09:25 pm
Entry tags:
Open RP Post
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🖤 General squick/trigger list.
🖤 m/m for anything shippy.
🖤 General headcanon for Ronan. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🖤 Ronan's kink list.
🖤 This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!
cutesy sexy and feelsy :>
He knew that things had changed. Whether it was Kavinsky admitting that he didn't want anyone else, or the fact that Ronan had stayed, driven him home... He didn't know the cause, but he could feel the shift of the tension between them. He'd known that he wanted Ronan Lynch like he wanted to breathe for a while, but he'd tried to play it cool. Like it wasn't as all-consuming as a forest fire.
But Ronan had said yes when he'd asked. And that was-- it was something. It meant that he hadn't fucked this up, yet. That wanting him for real wasn't enough to push this thing between them to breaking. He's not dressed up, but he is a little more put together; dark jeans and a dark patterned button down open over his usual tank top. There's a joke there- about how he hoped it was ugly enough Ronan would take it off him.
Thankfully, he had just finished setting the pizza up in the basement when he hears the door. There's a small cooler with drinks on ice, and the lights were a little low. The music was a playlist of Ronan's electronica; so most people probably wouldn't call the atmosphere romantic, but it was moody, at least. He smiles as he opens the door, a smirk curling his mouth, and he still wears his confidence like just another shirt, but with Ronan there are gaps if he looks.]
Hey, man.
👀
Things were changing between him and Kavinsky. He could recognize that. More importantly, things seemed to be trending in a positive direction and he wanted them to, though he wouldn't know how to say it out loud. Most importantly, the sight of Kavinsky as he opened the door made Ronan's heart race. It was- not weird but different, seeing him in a button-down, even if it wasn't done up. It was like- like Ronan could put all the pieces of what this was together if he thought about it long enough. So, obviously, he didn't think about it.]
Hey.
[He didn't say Kavinsky looked nice, but he sure was thinking it. Though then again, the other boy would probably look nice in anything, even his birthday suit. Maybe especially the last one.
It was a good thing Ronan had practice with how to seem disinterested, so he mostly didn't seem like he was thinking about what Kavinsky looked like naked.]
Changing things up a little?
[So much for not thinking about the shirt.]
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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.]
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So yeah, he'd put on nice jeans and a nice t-shirt, and he hadn't done more because he'd figured Kavinsky would laugh at him if he did. But the other boy had dressed nicely, too, so maybe-
Ronan knocked his shoulder against Kavinsky's in a friendly manner, trying to pretend there wasn't a little heat rising in his cheeks at the idea of stripping him out of any of his clothes.]
It looks good on you.
[But genuinely, it would look better on the floor--he just wasn't going to say that because it was cheesy.
Setting his hands on Kavinsky's sides, he pretended he was evaluating the softness of the button down, though really it was just an excuse to touch him.]
You didn't have to do anything special for me.
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He doesn't quite know what to say so he reaches out, fingers cupping his face and then sliding around to curl against the back of his neck. Just touching him because he could, because Ronan was here and lovely, and because it seemed like some part of him wanted something between them too. He doesn't immediately find the words, but there's something a little uncharacteristic as he looks at Ronan across the slight distance between them, almost unsure.]
I want to. I'm not good at this, but.. I wanted to do something special. Cause you're-- it's different.
[He felt exposed, like he was opening himself up to being hurt. But much like Ronan, he couldn't resist the temptation of seeing what was possible. Because if it wasn't heartbreak... Kavinsky acted indifferent and like he didn't give a shit about anything, but he cared about this, about Ronan. He made him hope, want to believe that there could be good things in his life, too.
He hovers close, like he might kiss him, but he doesn't- yet, at least.]
I set some things up downstairs. It's not a lot, but...
[But it was something. But Kavinsky was trying, hoping that it was enough, that it wasn't too much. He'd never really dated someone before. But he wanted to, if it was Ronan. He wanted a lot of things, if it was Ronan.]
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So he let his hands rest on Kavinsky's sides instead, heart fluttering when the other boy touched his face. It was simple and yet sort of romantic, soft in the way that couples on television were- thinking about it nearly punched the air from his lungs. It made him imagine what life could be like dating Kavinsky. He wanted it. He wanted it more than he knew how to express or even fully admit to himself.
Smiling like his heart wasn't beating unevenly, like there wasn't a part of him that wanted to spill his guts right here and now if he'd been that kind of person, he reached up to take one of Kavinsky's hands, kissing his palm before lacing their fingers together.]
Let's see it, then.
[After a moment, he added-]
I'm not good at this either, so-
[He shrugged a shoulder.
He might not have put what 'this' was into words, but he was pretty sure they both knew. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to put a real word to things. Soon. Tonight, even. Kavinsky deserved that, didn't he? He deserved to have something concrete and real. Which wasn't to say that Ronan's feelings weren't already both of those things, but- Kavinsky deserved to know.]
Don't worry about it too much.
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Ronan smiles, and Kavinsky wants to kiss him, wants to forget about the pizza downstairs and just hold him in his arms. But Ronan takes one of his hands, kissing his palm and lacing their fingers together and it hits him so hard he doesn't have the words for what he feels. For a moment he holds on too tight, but then he softens his grip, just holding his hand- like Kavinsky could be a boy that did that sort of thing. Like he wanted it.
He leans in, brushing a small kiss to Ronan's jaw. It's small and sweet, just a light touch of affection rather than desire. Not that he didn't desire Ronan, of course. But the other boy already knew that, knew that Kavinsky wanted his hands on his skin and wanted the ways their bodies fit together. Tonight he was trying to say something different, even if it was harder.
The fact that Ronan tells him not to worry, like he can tell that Kavinsky's a little bit nervous, a little uncertain, makes his heart skip in his chest. All he'd really hoped for was just for Ronan not to say no, not to pull away, to flinch from what he was offering: himself. And instead here he was, holding his hand, feeling like Ronan maybe cared as much as he did.
He couldn't stop smiling.
So he just murmurs a soft okay, breathy as he tugs him towards the stairs that led to the basement that Kavinsky had renovated- dreamed- into the theater and hangout space that it was now. It felt safer sometimes, because his mother said her heels couldn't take the stairs. Kavinsky might have dreamt that too; intentional or not.
Somehow, once he was downstairs with Ronan at his side, their fingers laced together, Kavinsky thought that maybe it actually was sort of romantic after all. The low lights lit the other boy with attractive shadows, and the bass of the music was the sort of thing you could feel in your bones, even if Kavinsky had it low enough to allow for conversation. And sure the food was just Nino's pizza and beers on ice, but it was the deep dish sausage that he knew Ronan liked.
It was a message that said I want you, I care about you, I think about you. The fact that he knew what things Ronan liked, that he remembered the bands he mentioned or the songs he played in the BMW. Kavinsky was attentive, originally because he thought that if he knew what Ronan wanted, he'd know how to be the sort of boy he wanted. Now it was just- because it mattered. Because he mattered.]
I figured candles might be too cheesy- but I thought about it.
[It's a little bit of a joke, because it feels less revealing than asking is this good enough? but it was also true. He liked any excuse to include things that burned, but it had felt like it might be too much, too obvious. Because it was a date, but Kavinsky hadn't been sure if saying it would scare Ronan off.]
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A lot of people assumed Kavinsky was just another rich asshole. Ronan was very aware he could be an asshole, but he was so much more than that too, wasn't he? Ronan wanted to see his other sides, to share experiences with him, and see more of what he was like when he was soft and sweet. There'd been a time when he would've laughed about the idea of Kavinsky being either of those things, but he'd learned since then. He knew better now.
So, he followed Kavinsky down to the basement, where the music wasn't necessarily romantic, but Ronan quickly recognized it and felt warm and pleased Kavinsky had gone through the effort of selecting it. It might not have been other people's type of romantic, but to Ronan, it was as good as flowers. The whole thing, the entire setup, it was-
Ronan felt breathless again. The word date kept bubbling up in the back of his mind, and so did boyfriend. He might have been oblivious at one point, but he knew, now, that Kavinsky was into him. If he hadn't known before tonight, the way K had smiled at him said it all. Ronan wanted him, too. Wanted him desperately.
The only thing cheesy here was the pizza.
Candles might have been- overwhelming. But it was already so clear what this was. He turned to Kavinsky and cupped the side of his face in one hand before kissing him softly.]
It's great.
[And, he wanted to say, I want to be your boyfriend. But he knew he'd trip over the words; saying them out loud was somehow so much more frightening than feeling them.]
I've never had anything like this, before.
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But Kavinsky had always been reckless. And what was more reckless than loving someone?
Ronan cups the side of his face and kisses him, and Kavinsky leans into the contact, feels like he melts into him. It was all he'd really wanted- for Ronan to say it was enough- but no, it was more just that all he wanted was this boy. Ronan Ronan Ronan his name like the beat of his heart. He kisses him back, and smiles when they part. He reaches up just to slide his fingers against the stubble of his skull. God, he wanted him.]
I haven't either. But you're-- it's different with you.
[He needed Ronan, wanted him in his life, wanted him at his side, wanted to give him everything that Kavinsky had to offer. There'd never been anyone before Ronan that had seemed worth it, made him feel like he could have something real and not just a few passing hookups. Which was why Kavinsky was more or less keeping his hands to himself so far. Not because he thought Ronan wearing clothes was less of a crime than usual, but he wanted-- he wanted to be sure Ronan saw that his interest was more than that, too.
He wanted his hands on him, wanted the way they burned and fit together and came apart- but he wanted to lay his head on his chest and listen to his heart beat, and he wanted his arms around him and he wanted him there in the morning. He wanted to believe that his life could have Ronan in it, that they could have a future, something more real than most people thought Kavinsky was made for.]
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Tell me about it?
[It wasn't for his own ego--he wanted to know how things were different, how Kavinsky really felt about him. Maybe it was a little unfair to ask when Ronan himself hadn't yet had the courage to even ask K to be his boyfriend when it was pretty clear that was what he wanted. There was a little worry in the back of his mind, the voice that said what if I'm wrong, what if I'm reading into things too much.
But maybe if Kavinsky started things...Ronan would be able to speak up, too. K usually didn't seem to have trouble speaking his mind, after all. Ronan would have envied him for his confidence and shit if he hadn't known how shitty Kavinsky's life could be. He wanted to make it better for him, improve his life, make him happy. Because Kavinsky made him happy, and the other boy deserved good things.]
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At the question, Kavinsky grins a little bit sheepishly. He's been avoiding that exact thing, even if in his heart he wanted to, he wanted to tell Ronan how special he was. But it seemed like it should be okay if he'd asked for it; or that was what Kavinsky told himself, at least. He gently cupped his hand against Ronan's face, gently squeezing their laced fingers, looking at him with helpless affection as he smiled softly.]
I just.. I never wanted to date someone until I met you. I can't see anyone else when you're around. You're fucking magnetic, and I want- you know. All the sappy stupid shit. And I want you to know me. Secrets and all. More than just the asshole racer, forger, drug addict. I want you for real- to wake up next to you and see you smile.
[It's inelegant and earnest, handing Ronan his heart and trusting that Ronan wants to keep it. But he tries to say the thing that he thinks is important, about the fact that he does want Ronan. More than just the sex and the racing and the parties, he wants this too: laced fingers and sweet kisses and dancing in the kitchen and laughter. So happy his heart ached for the beautiful boy in his arms. He leaned in, letting his hand slide down Ronan's body, curling lightly around his waist. His heart raced in his chest, erratic with the thrill of saying it outloud:
I want to date you.]
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His heart was racing and he felt like his hands were trembling, but he wasn't quite sure if he was expecting them to or if they really were. Knowing what he wanted, feeling like he was allowed to have it, was a difficult thing for him. But he knew what he wanted right now, he just- was he allowed to have it? Did he deserve Kavinsky? Did Kavinsky deserve him? Which wasn't- it wasn't that Ronan thought that highly of himself, it was more along the lines of 'did K deserve someone better?'. The answer was probably, but Ronan felt greedy. He wanted Kavinsky all to himself.]
Fuck it. [He said on an exhale, in a rush, before he lost his nerve, and continued,] Let's date. I can't think of anyone but you most of the time. You- [He stumbled over his words for a moment.] -you remind me what it's like to be happy.
[Sometimes, Ronan felt like the only reason his heart still beat was to see Kavinsky, to race, to go to one of his parties, to kiss him and hold him. Sometimes, he didn't feel like he had a lot to live for, but there was always K. K made things better.
Ronan couldn't imagine a life where he let Kavinsky slip through his fingers.
He wanted to know him, too. His secrets and everything else. He wanted to wake up next to him in the morning and know they had something real.]