Ronan kisses him back, giving and demanding at the same time, sharp and restless, the weird contradictions that made up much of who he was manifest in the kiss.
"Fuck," he says again against Frank's mouth. "Come on," he says, body pushing for more than Frank is giving him. He doesn't need all this slow attention, he thinks. He doesn't think of himself as soft any more than anyone else does. Frank's praise is too much. He doesn't know what to do with it, the warmth it spreads in him.
"I just want..." he says, but he can't work the rest of the words so he stumbles over them. He said he wanted to do what Frank wants him to, and he does, but that doesn't mean he isn't driven by his own desire too.
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"Fuck," he says again against Frank's mouth. "Come on," he says, body pushing for more than Frank is giving him. He doesn't need all this slow attention, he thinks. He doesn't think of himself as soft any more than anyone else does. Frank's praise is too much. He doesn't know what to do with it, the warmth it spreads in him.
"I just want..." he says, but he can't work the rest of the words so he stumbles over them. He said he wanted to do what Frank wants him to, and he does, but that doesn't mean he isn't driven by his own desire too.