Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
Re: Magical Narnia: Ben/Ronan
Ronan just smirked his unabashed smirk, waggling his eyebrows up at Ben in the most suggestive manner that was humanly possible. Hell, he knew that Ben was barely older than him, but he couldn't resist the way that his boyfriend got so defensive about his age. There were a lot of cheese metaphors thrown around their household when Ronan went out of his way to try and 'reassure' Ben that "age is just a number, baby". (He could have gone with wine metaphors, but those weren't nearly as effective at producing that pink flush over Ben's aforementioned ridiculous cheekbones.)
"So embarrassing it's disgusting," he confirmed with a huff of his breath, shivering away from the tip of Ben's nose where it ghosted over his skin. Because it was probably pretty disgusting, the way that Ronan turned to chocolate pudding beneath Ben's ministrations, and how he moaned to high hell with every touch. Like now, actually, as Ben's hands breached the tuck of his white dress shirt into the suit pants. The moans were involuntary, and Ronan hid his face against the hollow under Ben's jaw as those hands slid against the bare skin of his stomach. He was hiding, and pushing into Ben's touch at the same time. He was desperate for more of that touch, more of those pinkies sliding against either edge of the v-shape framed by his hipbones where he felt like he was just awkward and skinny. Nothing like his boyfriend's washboard abs that Ronan habitually insisted had to be silicone implants.
And yeah, if Ben didn't stop there was a chance that he was going to come right here and now in his pants just from impatience and frustration - hell, he couldn't remember the last time they'd gone all day without at least a couple of orgasms each. But Ben wasn't going to stop. And Ronan wouldn't have let him, even if he'd tried. As it was, he settled for not resisting whatsoever when Ben flipped them over so that he was straddling his boyfriend's hips on the grassy slope of the meadow's hill. He was already mostly hard in his pants, pressing up against his fly and against the crease where Ben's groin met his thigh as Ronan rolled his hips down against him. He groaned again, softer this time, and let his forehead drop down to press against the slope of Ben's clavicle.
"Jesus, Ben - " the words were cut off and he had to reach up to assist in the shedding of his clothes, shrugging out of the jacket and tugging the rest of the buttons open so that the cotton dress shirt hung open with his chest and his flat stomach exposed. Another rock of his hips, and Ronan's hands slid down Ben's torso to tug the tails of his dress shirt free from the waist of his pants. He was panting slightly, lips parted and flushed a bright red from biting. "C'mon, I need to see you. Take this off."