[closed] and they were roommates

[deadthing]

WHO: Noah Czerny + Ronan Lynch
WHERE: Elysium Resort and Spa
WHEN: during the swear-in
WHAT: a romantic evening probably
WARNINGS: gonna get nsfw in here



After a... reasonably relaxing day at the spa, trying out various weird baths, mostly, Noah heads upstairs to check out the room. Though his limbs feel heavy from all the soaking, he's not really sleepy yet. He just needs a break from being around so many people and, as luck would have it, he's the first one there which means he can poke through the amenities in peace. The small overnight duffel he brought gets dropped by the door as he goes to look out the window then wanders into the bathroom to see how fancy it is. (It's fancy-ish as hotel bathrooms go. Nothing special compared to the spa below.) Noah sniffs some weird herbal bath oil and changes into a new fluffy robe, just because it's there and he can, before he wanders back out.

The bed though -- the bed is enormous. When he sprawls across it, right in the middle, none of his limbs even touch the sides. "Nice," he mumbles to himself. He rolls off it after a minute or two, rumpling the perfectly-made up sheets, and goes to check the minibar. It contains: a lot of vitamin water and bottles of pressed juice and "snacks" like organic beetroot chips. ...Less nice. He's still pawing through the selection when he hears the quiet beep of a keycard in the lock. Not turning around - partly because he thinks he knows who's about to walk through the door, and partly because he's dubiously reading the back of a package of "protein cookies" - he says, "If you didn't get enough salad at dinner, I have good news."

Comments

[nightmarist]

"Did you know kombucha makes you horny?"

Which doesn't mean Ronan wants any, but the factoid is out there for Noah to do with as he pleases. Ronan's duffel bag lands right beside the door, containing everything he was wearing earlier, because now he's dressed in a spa robe and nothing else. It isn't quite big enough for him, revealing too much thigh and quite a lot of chest, but no one has complained about it so far.

[deadthing]

Not who he was expecting, after all. "Huh," he says, because he did not know that. Possibly he doesn't know what kombucha is either. Noah sets the cookies down. As he turns around, his stomach flip-flops in a way that has nothing to do with fermented beverages. They're probably wearing the same size robe and it's a lot smaller on Ronan. He can't help it; he ogles.

Honestly, if Noah didn't know better, he would think he'd drifted off on the bed earlier and now he's having some kind of sexy dream. What with Ronan turning up in his room in an obscenely short robe and- hey, wait, he had the key. "You're in this room? I thought you were with Kylo."

[nightmarist]

It isn't not a sexy dream, really.

"Surprise," Ronan answers with a broad tada gesture. He is the prize and Noah's the winner. "You've got me all to yourself for at least eight hours, though I think we can stretch it a little."

And judging by the look on Noah's face, he's probably already got some ideas about how to spend the time. No, Ronan did not accidentally show up like this. He's here for the exact purpose Noah hopes he's here for.

[deadthing]

"Seriously?" Noah grins. Eight hours of uninterrupted alone time, at least. That's amazing. More than he can remember them ever having at once. Hell yes, he has ideas and he doesn't want a single minute to go to waste. "Oh man, okay," he says, "did you put the 'do not disturb' thingy on the door? Because you really should."

He crosses the room and the first thing he does upon reaching Ronan is curl his fingers into the front of his robe and tug him into a kiss. One that's playful and soft and hopefully doesn't communicate any jitters he's maybe kinda getting because this feels like a big deal.

[nightmarist]

Though Ronan doesn't want to emphasize the point too strongly, it is a big deal. His being here is a generous allowance from Kylo, and Ronan wished for it in the first place because there's something special he's been wanting to do and it seems like it ought to happen someplace special.

He bows to meet the kiss, cupping Noah's face in his hands. His own nerves don't leave him jittery. Instead, his skin feels hotter than usual, his cheeks flushed with the fever that hits him when there's something he wants to do and he can't do it fast enough.

[deadthing]

Ronan's simmering desire makes Noah feel heated as well. His heart is a frantic, fluttering thing. They have all night, but suddenly he can't wait any longer. How did the bed get so far away and why aren't they already in it?

He eases back with a teasing suck at Ronan's bottom lip and breathes, "Come on." His hands slide down to untie whatever belt is holding Ronan's last scraps of decency together as he tries to walk backward at the same time. Either they're going to crash into the bed or miss it entirely, because he doesn't spare a single glance back to check their course. All his focus, inward and outward, is on Ronan.

[nightmarist]

Ronan may be impatient, but by god, he’ll make sure they make it to the bed. He huffs out a soft laugh as Noah breaks away, allowing himself to be unwrapped like a gift while he steers them along their path.

When Noah’s calves hit the edge of the bed, Ronan pauses to shrug off his loosened robe. Between the days-old bruises he earned during the fight with Declan and the marks of possession Kylo scattered on him earlier, his pale skin is colored with a rainbow of injury. But that doesn’t seem to be slowing him down any.

His hands go immediately to work at undressing Noah, too. “Feels kind of like a honeymoon, doesn’t it,” he muses, his fingers running along Noah’s skin as he nudges fabric out of the way.

[deadthing]

Unlike Ronan, Noah isn't completely bare under his robe. He wouldn't have wanted to accidentally flash his original roomie. But luckily it's only a single extra layer - stretchy black boxer briefs - as easily removed as the rest.

"Totally. Except we're not married, so it's a regular sex vacation," he jokes. His cheeks are warm. Because honestly? That's exactly what it feels like. The day of pampering, followed by spending the night in this awfully romantic setting...

Before he gets too wrapped up in the thought, he catches sight of one of the worse bruises and his breath hisses through his teeth. He reaches out to brush his fingers along the edge of it. "Ronan..."

[nightmarist]

Ronan, thoroughly preoccupied with tugging Noah's boxer briefs down, nearly misses what it is that's caught his attention. "Hm?" he replies with a distracted glance, then stops and settles his hands on Noah's hips.

Oh, right. He looks like he got hit by a truck.

The truck's name is Kylo Ren.

"It's fine." And it is. Nanites do their job pretty well when it comes to repairing what would otherwise be long-term damage. "Last training session was pretty intense. It looks worse than it is. Don't worry, I'm fully operational."

[deadthing]

Noah lets out a quiet snort at the 'fully operational' comment. "If you say so," he says, resolving to be extra careful now, just in case. Even if there's no serious damage, Ronan must still be sore. He grazes his fingertips from the mottled border of the bruise down to unblemished skin and then drops his hand.

But they can talk more about it later. Determined not to lose the mood, he finishes the job of shedding his underwear and steps free of it. Then he goes in for another kiss.

[nightmarist]

Grateful that's the end of that, Ronan dives eagerly into the kiss. He doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about being extra careful, because his hands slide down Noah's thighs and haul him up, settling them at his hips. If the effort of lifting Noah hurts at all, he doesn't show it.

Carrying him along, Ronan climbs up onto the bed, and then both of them descend onto the mattress - Noah on his back, Ronan looming over him, settled between his thighs. He takes a moment to admire Noah like that, and his heart responds in a way that still makes very little sense. Not nervousness, but a pang of longing. Like he's looking back on this moment, years from now, rather than living it.

He says, "I think I've been in love with you for a long time."

[deadthing]

With his mouth otherwise occupied, Noah can't chide Ronan to take it easy. He can only make a faint startled noise as Ronan scoops him up and deposits him on the bed. Then he's staring up at him, breathless and wanting, and oh god, they're right back in fantasy territory. Except every part of this is real.

Noah has had some idea how Ronan feels about him - accompanying confusion and all - for about as long as Ronan himself has been aware of it. But it's different when it's out loud, a deliberate confession. Hearing the words is so thrilling it almost makes him dizzy.

"I know I'm in love with you," he replies all in a rush. It feels good to say it. Shifting a little under Ronan, he draws his legs in closer around him.

[nightmarist]

A confession as terrible as it is wonderful. Noah is dead. So irrevocably dead that his existence has been wiped from Ronan's history, eliminating every experience they ever shared, taking away everything they were and everything they could have been. Noah is gone.

They have no past and no future, and every moment they share is stolen in defiance of fate and sacrifice, and probably this will have terrible consequences someday. But by some accident they exist in the same place, at the same time, and Ronan won't waste it.

He kisses Noah until the ache in his heart stops feeling like something that's going to drive him to tears, which would be such a mood-killer. Especially since this is a happy night, actually. They're in love.

"So do you wanna make love?"

Ronan has no idea if Noah's a virgin, or what virginity even means to him, but this will be the most intimate they've been with each other, at least. And that means something, to Ronan.

[deadthing]

They're in love, they're in love, they're in love—and tonight, at least, it's not a tragedy. Noah laughs softly once the kiss breaks. "That's so corny," he says, unable to resist a bit of affectionate ribbing over the phrasing. Then he sobers a little. "But yeah, I... do. I want to."

It's been on his mind ever since they first hooked up on Ronan's birthday. He caught a peek at some fantasies then which he's been revisiting, often, particularly in the shower. Possibly there have been some risque internet searches (and hasty closing of tabs). So yes, he wants this. Now feels right.

Compared to what they've done before (and anything he's ever done, period) it's a big step but, still giddy from their exchange of the L word, Noah wants to mark the occasion. Why not do so by getting as close as physically possible?

Besides all of that, his body is giving an emphatic yes because Ronan is naked and on top of him and honestly that's all it takes. He's a teenager.

[nightmarist]

Noah should consider himself lucky that Ronan hasn't broken out the Latin poetry. He flashes Noah an impish smile that makes for a pretty good cover to conceal the nervousness that finally rises up in him. It's been a while since he's done this, since it's been up to him to take the lead. His body may be nice to look at, but it's made for hurting people, which becomes a problem when he's with someone he wants very much not to hurt.

"Don't worry," he says, more to himself than to Noah. "We'll take it slow."

His mouth begins a journey, starting with another kiss to Noah's lips, then drifting. He kisses a path down Noah's throat, over his clavicle, across his heart. His hands slide along Noah's thighs and gently push his legs open wider. It's going to take more than enthusiasm to prepare Noah for him.

[deadthing]

Noah takes a deep breath and lets it out, slow and shivery, as Ronan kisses his way lower. There is an anxious edge to his excitement -- the general uncertainty that comes with inexperience and trying out something new mingling with more particular concerns about, well, the size issue. The difference between, say, his index finger (being about all he's managed on his own) and Ronan's particularly generous anatomy is vast. Even from that limited experimentation, he knows getting started is going to be...a process.

But he believes the end result will be good, so he tries to be patient and relax. Right, they'll take it slow. "I trust you," he assures Ronan as he obligingly lets his legs fall open. Whatever position Ronan needs him in, he'll do his best to accommodate.

[nightmarist]

Even if Noah hasn't had much opportunity to work his way up to it on his own, Ronan intends to devote as much attention to the task as necessary. His lips continue the journey down Noah's body, skirting across his belly and ducking to run a quick swipe of his tongue up the length of his shaft.

It's not Noah's cock that needs his attention right now, though. He tucks his arms under Noah's thighs and hikes him up a little, bringing him to the ideal height for his mouth's work. He catches Noah's sac for a light, playful suck, then nuzzles it out of the way so he can reach his real destination.

There, Ronan's tongue traces a teasing ring along Noah's rim.

[deadthing]

The muscles in his thighs jump reflexively in surprise. He definitely wasn't expecting Ronan to use his mouth for this. It feels good though and he had, like, five baths today so he's not as self-conscious about it as he might otherwise be. He exhales a soft oh and turns his head to press his face into his shoulder, melting into the sensation.

His fingers scrabble ineffectually at the bedspread and then he reaches out blindly for Ronan instead. Now that Ronan has hair long enough to grab, Noah likes to take advantage of that where he can. He pats the top of Ronan's head lightly and then sinks his fingers into his hair.

[nightmarist]

A smile flashes across Ronan's lips as Noah jerks in shock. Yeah, he figured this might be a new experience. And that's a lot of the fun. With Noah's fingers knotting in his hair, he lets himself be pulled closer and dives back to work.

This time, his tongue drags several languid laps against Noah, sloppy and savoring. Like he's feasting. With the last one, the muscles of his tongue go taut and it slips its way into that tight hole. Probing and exploring, jabbing deeper.

His hands take a firmer grip on Noah's thighs, holding him still and spread, preventing any further struggle.

[deadthing]

It's new and a little weird and absolutely filthy hot. Noah loves it. The unabashedly wet sound of Ronan lapping at him, combined with the slick heat of his tongue, is almost unbearably arousing in its lewdness.

Spread open and held fast, he can't squirm around at all—though he badly wants to when he feels that tongue pressing inside. Not that he doesn't like it, he's just so sensitive. It makes his toes curl. "God, Ronan," he pants, kneading appreciatively at Ronan's scalp with his knuckles, twisting his fingers in his hair and gently tugging.

If this is going to take a while, that's fine. It's amazing.