[Kavinsky was softer than he let on, than he wanted most people to know. But the truth was that he wanted to do this properly: he wanted to be Adam's boyfriend, and do his best even if he didn't seem like the type. And it wasn't even about Ronan. It wasn't that he wanted to rub it in his face that Kavinsky didn't need him. It was about Adam, and yeah, about himself. It was that Adam deserved to have someone that would try their best to make him happy. It was that Kavinsky thought that maybe he could, and he thought that Adam might make him happy, too.
He murmured, leaning into the contact as Adam curls an arm around his waist. They were both topless with how hot the afternoon air of Henrietta summer was. And yet somehow all he wanted was more, he wanted Adam closer to him, he wanted to kiss him more. Wanted to get their clothes off and show him how good he could make him feel. It didn't even have to be fucking, either- he was good with his hands, and with his mouth, once you could persuade him to stop talking. He might ache because he wanted it all, wanted it all right now, but he could be a certain sort of patient. Or well, Kavinsky wasn't immediately slipping his hand down Adam's jeans, at least. He wanted to, and he thought that the other dreamer probably had enough of a sense of the sort of boy that he was to not be surprised, even if he was trying to be good.
So he kisses him again, even though he's already breathless with it, his lips red and kiss-bruised, his eyes flickering only briefly to look over the other boy. He's gorgeous and easy to want, easy to feel like he makes the world make a little more sense, or maybe just that it's easier to forget about everything except him. His free hand sliding down to curl against his hip, fingers threading through his belt loop so that he can tug him a little bit closer against him. He's hard against him, shameless about it, doesn't care that his erection presses into Adam's hip.]
Fuck, I want you.
[He gasps the words when they part again, breathless and aching, putting it into words as he finally lets their hand part, just so that he can get both hands on his body. He grins at Adam with a wicked hum of amusement, nuzzling in against the line of his jaw. His face is mostly smooth, but after the past couple days of nothing but dreams there's a slight hint of stubble.]
You wanna- can I get you in the backseat? I'll put the AC on. Wouldn't want you to overheat.
no subject
know. But the truth was that he wanted to do this properly: he wanted to be
Adam's boyfriend, and do his best even if he didn't seem like the type. And
it wasn't even about Ronan. It wasn't that he wanted to rub it in his face
that Kavinsky didn't need him. It was about Adam, and yeah, about himself.
It was that Adam deserved to have someone that would try their best to make
him happy. It was that Kavinsky thought that maybe he could, and he thought
that Adam might make him happy, too.
He murmured, leaning into the contact as Adam curls an arm around his
waist. They were both topless with how hot the afternoon air of Henrietta
summer was. And yet somehow all he wanted was more, he wanted Adam closer
to him, he wanted to kiss him more. Wanted to get their clothes off and
show him how good he could make him feel. It didn't even have to be
fucking, either- he was good with his hands, and with his mouth,
once you could persuade him to stop talking. He might ache because he
wanted it all, wanted it all right now, but he could be a certain sort of
patient. Or well, Kavinsky wasn't immediately slipping his hand down Adam's
jeans, at least. He wanted to, and he thought that the other dreamer
probably had enough of a sense of the sort of boy that he was to not be
surprised, even if he was trying to be good.
So he kisses him again, even though he's already breathless with it, his
lips red and kiss-bruised, his eyes flickering only briefly to look over
the other boy. He's gorgeous and easy to want, easy to feel like he makes
the world make a little more sense, or maybe just that it's easier to
forget about everything except him. His free hand sliding down to curl
against his hip, fingers threading through his belt loop so that he can tug
him a little bit closer against him. He's hard against him, shameless about
it, doesn't care that his erection presses into Adam's hip.]
Fuck, I want you.
[He gasps the words when they part again, breathless and aching,
putting it into words as he finally lets their hand part, just so that he
can get both hands on his body. He grins at Adam with a wicked hum of
amusement, nuzzling in against the line of his jaw. His face is mostly
smooth, but after the past couple days of nothing but dreams there's
a slight hint of stubble.]
You wanna- can I get you in the backseat? I'll put the AC on. Wouldn't want
you to overheat.