for quaerit

[saevio]

[continued from here]

[He's scared, that's why he moves away, why he's trembling because it's the effort of keeping himself in control because he's scared as to what Gansey might think of him once he loses it. But then again this is Gansey. The Gansey who makes sure things wont get weird before they even go anywhere. Gansey who's seen his ugliest sides and still stands before him today. Gansey who will do everything for him even if it means putting himself last. Until now Gansey hasn't run away so why is he worried now?

Ronan doesn't speak, instead he looks at Gansey as if for once Gansey is the predator and he's a wary prey slowly trying to back out of being devoured. Only he isn't worried about that happening, he's worried about devouring Gansey. Slowly, bit by bit, leaving nothing to be found.

He wants to, selfishly take everything Gansey has and claim it as his own. He wants to imprint himself on his body, leaving marks never to be forgotten.]

Gansey-

[He hits his bed with the back of his calves; he hadn't even realized he'd been walking backwards in attempt to keep the distance between them. But there's only so much he can do to stop himself from caving.

Because in the end, Ronan Lynch does anything Gansey asks of him.]

I'll destroy you.

[The warning is a weak one. Weak and so over the top. But Ronan believes it, because that's what he does, he destroys things. Gansey builds and he tears it down, that's how it works because it feels much better to be the one doing the destroying then have someone else do it. He'll never allow anyone do that again. Never.

Sighing out he closes his eyes, head tilting back to offer Gansey's throat. He's pliable in Gansey's hands for about three seconds before the last of his resolve shatters and he takes Gansey by the waist, using strength Gansey has seen him use on Declan many times through their fights and flips him into his bed. It's not gentle and his bed screams in objection at the sudden weight being thrown. Ronan cares very little, they can destroy the bed, whatever. Climbing on top of his best friend roles have turned, there's no mistaken by the glint in Ronan's eyes that he's the predator.]

You can still back out, Gansey. Giving you one more chance.

Comments

[quaerit]

[ Ronan is trembling. God, he's actually trembling. Gansey has seen Ronan Lynch get into so many fights, so much trouble, and he never looked like this. He's never looked afraid before, and the realisation of that sets some kind of fire in Gansey's chest. Ronan never has to be afraid where he's concerned. Gansey will never leave him. It's why he'd made sure that Ronan would still be there at the end of this; he has no such fears for himself. He knows he's going nowhere.

His hand slides up, fingers cresting over Ronan's jaw. He shakes his head. ]

No, you won't. You won't hurt me.

[ Gansey wouldn't be able to say that of anyone else. Not even his other friends. He feels more sure of Ronan than anyone, and he feels a burning need to prove that to him. He has faith in this boy. He knows the Ronan that still lives beneath all of the anger, and he doesn't care how deeply that part of him is hidden. It's still there at the core, and Gansey sees it. His lips move down over that pale, exposed neck, and his hands slide up to Ronan's shoulders. They're strong and hard, with power beneath them. A shiver prickles along Gansey's skin, which he identifies belatedly as desire. It's building. He wants this. He -

- feels his world overturn, when suddenly Ronan is over him and he's flat on the bed, and his friend is looking at him like he's something worth wanting. The shiver comes back, showing itself in the urgent smile that touches his lips and the eagerness in his hands as he reaches to pull Ronan down over him. ]

Stop telling me to leave, and kiss me.

[ His hands slide around, running over Ronan's waist. His palms flatten against the muscles of his back. Strong and hard, like his arms. Gansey swallows, and his sharp eyes are tinged with excitement and heat. He wants this fire. He rolls his hips up, causing friction between himself and Ronan that makes him groan, softly. ]

Can't you see I want it? For God's sake, trust me, Lynch.

[saevio]

[Ronan trusts Gansey it's himself he doesn't trust, not since Niall Lynch died. The only thing that's for sure with him is that he will destroy whatever he touches; wants to. He's fighting it, the gentleness brought back to the surface not just by Noah or Adam but by Gansey as well who continues to push in ways Ronan can't fight. It makes him want to rebel even more but cracks are showing through his thick armor; now being one of those situations. Ronan swallows, heavily and tenses beneath Gansey who freely showcases his wants as if they've been doing this for a long time already. There's no shame where as Ronan drowns himself in it whenever he even as close to thinks of Gansey - or any boy - in such a manner.

It's not that he doesn't want. Because oh, he does, and the darkening of his light grey eyes to a darker blue tells his best friend as much. But Ronan fears what lays beneath the layers of protection he build around himself. He's never let go like this, had gotten close to it with Kavinsky but they both knew who that ended. What if he hurts Gansey? What if he likes it so much it will become an addiction similar to wanting to see things burn and be destroyed?

Too many thoughts which annoys him because that's Gansey's thing, not his. So he scowls, not at Gansey but himself -- or maybe a little at Gansey because he's putting his world upside down.]

God jesus Gansey. [And soft curses in other languages follow. Somehow he is still trying to let his fire come out in waves instead of a storm. But the more he sees Gansey beneath him, writhe and demand he just give in the more he wants to. This is Gansey, if anyone can handle it it's him. So he leans down, crushes their lips together and claims Gansey's mouth for his own like he's wanted to do. It's rough, it's possessive and includes teeth. Hand's move, just one across Gansey's side then all over his arms and chest. There's no mistaken every move Ronan makes says mine. He growls, deep and feral, full of want and sheer need for the other. And he's already panting once their kiss breaks, his lips attacking the side of Gansey's face and neck instead.]

[quaerit]

[ Ronan looks as indecisive as Gansey has ever seen him. That's part of what makes Gansey certain. No one who cares this much about not hurting him would ever do it. This means something to Ronan. It's important. God, he has never seen his friend look like this.

Gansey is not the sort of person who really fantasizes, about others. Teenagers are supposed to think about sex all the time. He is aware of this stereotype. He has never fitted that stereotype, because his mind was always full of other things. Full of Glendower, and ley lines, and magic, and all manner of related things. It's why his occasional dates had never become anything meaningful. Why things like attraction seem to sneak up on him, unbidden, like when he'd realised he was attracted to Blue.

Or like the sudden realisation that Ronan was serious about wanting more from him, and what that might mean.

Now he knows. Ronan's mouth is suddenly on his. He loses track of himself; suddenly Ronan's hands are everywhere. It's as though whatever was holding him back as snapped apart, and now Ronan is making up for lost time. A deep shudder runs along Gansey's spine, bringing forth some feeling that he barely recognises, and does not even now know he should identify as lust. But that's what it is. It settles somewhere low in his stomach, making him tense and eager - making his arms wrap around Ronan so that his hands can drag along his back. His fingers curl in Ronan's tank, raking it up, and his nails scratch lightly. Gansey is barely aware of it.

He's too busy being caught up in that kiss. He lets out the sort of little sound that he'd be embarrassed by if he had any sort of control over himself. It's soft and wanting, and develops into a whine of frustration when Ronan moves away. He wants that tongue back. No, Christ, he wants those teeth back. ]

Ronan. Jesus Christ, I -

[ Whatever he was going to say is lost, when Ronan's lips on his neck distract him entirely. A shuddering breath is followed by him stretching back his head. Ronan is like fire, spreading all over him. He tries to collect the fragments of his awareness, and realises how tightly his hands are bound in his friend's tank. He pulls it up, tugging firmly, aware of nothing except how much he wants it gone. He wants more of Ronan's skin. Gansey is so logical, so careful, so averse to risk. He is not used to letting feeling overtake him. Right now, that instinct is exactly what he's giving into. ]