He is, for all the many and varied ways Ronan's willingly offered body has lead him into temptation and beyond, not so far removed from all those untouched years— and in the sharp, frozen instant of shock, it shows. No-one touches Kylo like this, brazen and uninvited. Maybe, no-one ever has.
The thrill of it flutters at the edge of his voice. Slams through his blood. His eyes tear themselves from the shape he knows Kavinsky's mouth would adopt if he pushed his thumb past his lips-- force, he wants to make him suck on it, wants those wicked, filthy fingers snatching at him like he knows none of this is his, none of it...]
I don't think you're kissing anything.
[It's slow, this time, the imposition of Kylo's will. A smooth swell of pressure to leave Kavinsky struggling, steadily drowning in molasses. The inevitable winding down of a stuttering music box, fighting to sound out the last remaining notes of the melody.]
no subject
He is, for all the many and varied ways Ronan's willingly offered body has lead him into temptation and beyond, not so far removed from all those untouched years— and in the sharp, frozen instant of shock, it shows. No-one touches Kylo like this, brazen and uninvited. Maybe, no-one ever has.
The thrill of it flutters at the edge of his voice. Slams through his blood. His eyes tear themselves from the shape he knows Kavinsky's mouth would adopt if he pushed his thumb past his lips-- force, he wants to make him suck on it, wants those wicked, filthy fingers snatching at him like he knows none of this is his, none of it...]
I don't think you're kissing anything.
[It's slow, this time, the imposition of Kylo's will. A smooth swell of pressure to leave Kavinsky struggling, steadily drowning in molasses. The inevitable winding down of a stuttering music box, fighting to sound out the last remaining notes of the melody.]