Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
Re: Magical Narnia: Ben/Ronan
Ronan let himself sink back into the touch of Ben's hands, without question or hesitation, with his shoulder pressed to open palm and a wide hand against his hip. He felt anchored in safe waters, and it made him smile wide in a pleased, unencumbered sort of way. To know that his freedom and his safety within the grasp of this man's reach was real - and that it was a magical thing? To know that to his core, Ronan was secure in the familiarity of the touch that pressed faint dimple-marks in the wake of Ben's fingertips, close against his bicep and waist.
And there. Once he'd toed out of his dress shoes, he bent to roll the hems of his suit pants up and over the white-bone curve of his ankles so that they wouldn't soak up quite so much water. The sharp angle of his elbow arrowed into Ben's steadying grip, where it apparently served his boyfriend well to hold him in place - even as he flexed his barefoot step against the new grass blades, trying to brace himself without too much of his weight pressed against Ben's side. But still they stood, hand in hand, Ronan's slender fingers twined and tangled together with his boyfriend's. And even when his wet, bare feet splashed droplets of springtime water against the rolled hems of his pants, Ronan just grinned and bounced a little in place.
"Yeah?" The soft, teasing lilt of his voice was quiet enough, guided towards subtlety by the angle of his ducked head but still split-through with a grin that came at Ben's mention of smelly livestock. Because there was maybe a minute or two when his pants had indeed been getting wet, but it wasn't like they didn't both know that he'd soon be shed of the aforementioned garment. And Ronan could feel the span of Ben's toothy grin, spreading against his shoulder, along with the way that those hips bumped suggestively against the curve of his ass. "Oh tragedy of traged -"
He was forced to break off the exclamation in the midst of a breath, as he was hoisted up into Ben's arms without warning. A short, sharp breath huffed out from between his lips, part indignation and part amusement even as his arm came up to slide around the nape of Ben's neck, with the inside of Ronan's elbow tucked close against Ben's hairline. He felt the rumble of Ben's laughter against his ribs and was reminded of the presence of Thor that he'd felt that first night, when Ben had first kissed him. First taken him. Claimed him. Ronan's lashes fluttered as he tucked his chin against Ben's collarbone, blinking slyly, all flirt and no subtlety. "Are you calling me a witch?"