incognoscibilis | You've got a pocket full of reasons why you're here tonight

Adam jostles in Ronan's hold, the kiss breaking for a second as Adam gracelessly toes off his shoes. Smirking, Ronan pulls back to do the same before welcoming Adam back into his embrace, both hands slipping under Adam's shirt this time, resting low on his back.

The kiss this time is a little more heated, Adam rocking his hips close enough to make Ronan grunt, one hand sliding down to just above the swell of Adam's ass over his jeans, the other up his side, feeling all the muscle under his fingertips.

It's no further than they've gone before, but every kiss still feels like a shock. A gift. Like one last time before it all goes to hell.

"We can...go..." Adam says it between kisses, looking at Ronan a little hungrily. There is no such thing as a neutral touch for Adam. To kiss like this becomes heavy with implication and association and to touch, taste, smell Ronan is heady and powerful. He can't find the words and just starts walking them backward to the bedroom.

Ronan chases after the kiss every time Adam tries to pull away to speak, laughing softly even as the fire under his skin spikes at the implication. It's a short laugh, little more than a breath of air before Adam's mouth is on him again and they're walking toward the bedroom.

There's a part of Ronan that wants to rip Adam's shirt right off, to get his mouth and hands all over bare skin, a bigger part that wants to just sink to his knees and press his face between Adam's thighs, jeans or no jeans. He manages to control himself though, shaking hands lifting to cradle Adam's face as they near the bed, still just kissing.

However much Ronan wants, this is still more than enough.

Adam hits the bed with the backs of his knees and he lets himself fall backward and pull Ronan over him and between his legs. His laughter is just as short, just as forgettable as Adam smothers the sound with more kisses. He stretches up a little, a starfish across the bed.

Looking at Ronan, Adam isn't sure if he likes hat he sees, but Adam hopes that he's still as desirable, as wantable as Ronan seemed to think of him before.

"Okay?"

He almost laughs at that, the idea of this being even close to not okay just fucking ludicrous.

Adam's stretched out beneath him, legs bracketing Ronan's own where he kneels between them, and Ronan's careful to hold his weight on his elbows, to not lay on him completely however much he'd like to.

"Stupidest fucking question," he mutters eventually with a grin before ducking in to kiss and taste the skin of Adam's neck, licking a line up to just below his ear where he huffs a breath and keeps going, tugging at the lobe.

"Had to ask."

Ronan, damn him, remembers just how much it affected Adam before when Ronan bit and sucked at his ear. More, his body presses. He needs some kind of more. It jerks him upward, rubbing against Ronan with a low, barely suppressed noise.

If he comes in his pants again, Adam thinks he'll die of embarrassment.

Fuck, but Ronan could drunk on those little noises Adam makes.

Ronan can't hold back a whine of his own when he feels Adam's hips lift to rub against him and, taking a chance, Ronan rocks down himself, shudders when he feels the swell of Adam's cock right up against his own through four layers of clothing. He nearly loses the ability to hold himself up, eyelids slamming shut as he breathes out hot against Adam's ear.

"My turn to ask," he murmurs with another, slower, roll of his hips. Already, he feels like he could shake apart.

Adam nods, his chin and cheek brushing against Ronan's. It takes him a second to remember words before he can whisper, "More than. So okay." Adam finds his ability for sentences to be slightly truncated. Already, he's hardening in his pants and grabbing Ronan's wrist, pushing his hand towards the button of Adam's own jeans.

Everyone asks Adam so often. What is it he wants? What is it he needs? Now. He needs Ronan.

There's no mistaking what Adam wants, his grip tight and insistent on Ronan's wrist, pushing him downward to the front of his jeans.

Eyes wide, Ronan pulls back enough to meet Adam's eyes, but doesn't fight it. His heart feels like it's about to knock a hole through his ribcage. He holds his weight on one arm, lets the other be guided until his palm is resting over the growing bulge of Adam's jeans.

"Jesus," he murmurs, eyes still locked on Adam's, watching for any indication at all that it's too much, that he could be having second thoughts. Experimentally, he curls his fingers, fitting his hand to Adam's length with a rough, rushed breath.

Adam groans out, arching his back and pressing insistently into Ronan's hand. Shifting a little, almost to his side, Adam lets his opened jeans pull loosely away from his hip. Ronan still looks at him the way Adam feels, as if the other shoe is ready to drop any second and Adam suddenly, more than ever, can't stand it.

Blocking out the worries, Adam leans in and kisses him, determined and insistent. This is good. They're good.

A hand is a hand, Ronan thinks. It could be anyone and Adam would like it.

In that moment, Ronan doesn't even care who Adam might be thinking about - Blue or Krem or maybe even that neighbor girl he's only mentioned once. Adam can imagine whatever he needs and Ronan can just do what he's good at, be the tool to make him feel good.

Growling softly into Adam's kiss, he slides his hand up to dance his fingers over the exposed skin of Adam's hip, fingertips grazing the waistband of his underwear before slipping beneath. His breath shudders slightly as he presses on and he deepens the kiss, trying to distract himself and Adam both as he blindly finds hard, heated flesh with the palm of his hand.

When Ronan's hand closes around him, Adam can't contain a low, hungry noise as his eyes go wide open. He locks eyes with Ronan, then searches down his face, taking in the sight of him.

"Ronan..." he sighs it out, almost like a prayer, as he leans back. Through his eyelashes, he watches Ronan and reaches out carefully. In question, he flattens a had against the hard planes of Ronan's chest. Does he want to be touched? Does he want more than this?

Ronan's breathing hard already, lips tingling as he pulls back, his eyes locked on Adam's as he squeezes gently then slides his grip down to the base, stroking him slowly.

Jesus, he has hand on Adam's dick. And Adam is under him, arching for him, whispering his name.

Adam's hand press to his chest, hesitant but solid and Ronan leans into it, ducking down for another taste of Adam's mouth. The angle is awkward, his wrist twisted almost uncomfortably, but he refuses to let go of Adam's cock until Adam tells him to.

There's no forgetting that Ronan's above him and Adam doesn't want to. It's Ronan that he wants and he wants Ronan to know it. That's why he keeps saying Ronan's name, to remind them both.

"D'you want me to do anything too?" Caught up in the sensation, Adam's accent rolls out, flavored with molasses. "Ronan?"

Ronan licks at the shape of his name on Adam's lips and shudders a breath, his hand still moving.

'I want everything,' Ronan doesn't say because it's selfish and it's too fast and the very last thing he wants right now is to scare Adam away. And maybe scare himself away, too.

"Just feel," he says instead, dragging his lips up the bolt of Adam's jaw to lick just below his ear. His hand's still moving, picking up a steady rhythm and Ronan closes his eyes, heart caught in his chest when he asks, "Can I put my mouth on you?"

The request shocks through Adam and he pulls back a little to look at Ronan, his eyes wide. Adam bites his lip, aware of the heat across his face and the interested twitch of his cock in Ronan's hand.

"You want to?"

Adam, to his own shame, realizes that it's his father's influence sneaking into him. To Robert Parrish, it's one thing to jerk off with another man, but to get on his knees would have been emasculating. Adam hadn't expected Ronan capable of something that his mind ingrained in him as effeminate. Shame on him.

"If you really want to," he says. Because that's what it's supposed to be about, isn't it? Doing what they want. "I...I have condoms and stuff too. If we..."

Ronan has no idea how to say exactly how much he wants, has no idea if he can ever tell Adam the dozens of ways he's pictured them together, but he knows he can't do it now. Whatever experience Ronan may have, it's all been rushed and frantic, and it's never been more than hungry hands and desperate mouths, and it's definitely never been anything close to the need for condoms.

"Fuck," Ronan whispers, just the idea that Adam would offer, rocking him to his core. But he can't focus on that, can't think about the way Adam might feel inside him, can't think about that even being an option right now.

Swallowing tightly, he shakes his head and then kisses his way down Adam's neck and over the collar of his shirt, mouths at the tiny peak of Adam's nipple through the fabric. "I just really... really want to suck you," he murmurs, releasing his hold on Adam's dick long enough to push at Adam's shirt, exposing the flat, gorgeous plane of his belly and then kissing there too, lips shaky against soft skin.

Adam's blood thrills with the sheer sense of yes. To have someone want this for him is almost foreign, which makes it somehow better. Adam draws a shuddering breath, his muscles going tight and tense under Ronan's mouth. The lower he kisses, the more unbelievable it feels. Any second now, he's going to wake up from dreaming.

"A-Anything you want..." He's not impressed with how his own voice hitches, but the thought of Ronan doing this for him.

He doesn't think he'll last long enough to worry about whether or not they'll need condoms.

The hitch of Adam's voice is like music, like the best melody he's ever heard, and Ronan kisses his way lower, following the trail of hair south of Adam's belly button, thumbs hooking in the waistband of Adam's boxers and dragging them down past his hips.

Ronan's own breath catches as Adam's cock falls free, hard and gorgeous, and despite what they've already done, the fumbled handjobs and fevered grinding, he hasn't gotten to see it from so close up until now.

"Jesus, you're gorgeous," he mutters, barely loud enough to be heard at all as he wraps one hand loosely around the base of Adam's dick, smoothing down over Adam's balls and then back up again, taking his time with it. Slowly, he leans down, glancing up briefly to check that Adam's not freaking out before gently wrapping his lips around the head and sinking down.

"Ronan!" It's not a request to stop. The heat of it is almost unbearable and Adam arches off his bed before realizing that he can't just jerk up like that. To do so means hurting Ronan and Adam can't stand the thought of it, no matter how much he wants.

He's always admired the contour of Ronan's skull, the Byronic brow and the Patrician nose, but suddenly Adam wishes that he had some hair. Just enough for Adam to sink his fingers into, maybe pull. Lacking that, Adam rests a hand at the base of Ronan's neck, the other winding in his shirt.

"Oh shit."

Adam jerks, hips bucking slightly and Ronan has to pull back just a little to avoid being gagged. Not that he'd mind gagging himself on Adam's dick, just... maybe not right now.

"It's okay," he says, low and quiet, trying for reassuring before nosing at Adam's dick again, breathing in the scent of him and mouthing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the shaft.

He smooths a hand down Adam's flank as Adam settles back into the mattress, groans as gentle fingers slide around the base of Ronan's skull, holding him close. The weight of Adam's dick on his tongue is intoxicating and Ronan takes his time enjoying it, pushing himself almost an edge too far with every pass, sliding one hand down to drag his thumb down the seam of Adam's balls.

It's not okay. It's amazing. It's intense. Adam's grip tightens on Ronan's shirt as he tries not to thrust into Ronan's mouth but it's becoming increasingly difficult not to chase after that heat. Under Ronan's hand, his thighs tremble from the effort of staying still and trying not to come right then and there.

Where the hell did Ronan learn this? Adam's fingers curl against Ronan's skull and he bites down on another noise, eyes forced shut. "I'm not gonna..." He's forgotten to hide his accent and the words come out slow and thick, choked with the effort it takes to form them at all.

"Ronan, please..."

There's a lazy curl in Adam's accent and Ronan groans as the sound of it, shoulders hunching as he closes his eyes and sinks down further. Judging by the grip Adam has on both Ronan's shirt and the back of his skull, Ronan imagines he's close and fuck, but does he want to feel every shudder and taste every drop of Adam letting go.

It's not Ronan's first blowjob, but he's still far from an expert, not yet capable of taking as much as he'd like, and he wraps one hand tight around the base of Adam's dick, stroking what he can't reach with his mouth and hollows his cheeks, moans at the taste of Adam's precome leaking salty-sweet onto his tongue.

He can't find the words to warn him. All Adam can articulate is Ronan's name again, almost swallowed up in groans. He should be embarrassed at how short he's lasted but the thought is hazy in the distance. Ronan's mouth is around and along him, tongue impossibly light against his skin.

It only takes one look, one glance. Adam's eyes have been squeezed shut this whole time because he knows that if he looks he'll lose it. Now, when the pressure is so perfectly unbearable, Adam opens them and lets himself look. "Fuck..." Ronan's eyes are blown dark, his cheeks hollow, his mouth...

Another shout of Ronan's name is the only warning he can give.

The pitch of Adam's voice is a warning, though it feels more like a herald, Ronan making absolutely no move to pull off. He's never done this part with anyone before, always more than content to pull away at the last second, to jerk the guy off until he came all over Ronan's hand.

But it's different with Adam. Ronan wants. He wants to feel the pulse under his lips, taste the thickness of Adam's come, smell the scent of it from as close as possible.

And so he does, letting out a soft, pleased groan at the first splash on his tongue, hot and salty. He pushes his mouth down further, sloppy wet, sucking Adam through it before pulling back enough to swallow, lips still pursed around the tip.

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