It's Kylo who takes a shuddering breath now, pressing close and holding Ronan so tightly it can hardly be comfortable. Who would ever want all of him? The best he'd ever managed to imagine before Ronan was someone who could look at him and see enough of what they wanted that they'd be able to tolerate the rest— someone who could see how he might be cultivated into something better. It's all he'd ever known. The only way he'd ever known how to see himself.

"It's yours," Kylo promises. His eyes close, his head tipping to rest on Ronan's shoulder to offer him as much of his cheek, the corner of his mouth and the line of his jaw as he can reach. He needs, he decides, to do better. Ronan isn't asking him to surrender only the parts of him he believes he will like. "All of me."