If you get the chance, could I request #57 (Breaking The Kiss To Say Something, Staying So Close That You’re Murmuring Into Each Other’s Mouths) for Roah?
Kiss Prompts | still accepting
Ronan/Noah - #57 Breaking The Kiss To Say Something
~*~
“You know,” Ronan grumbled, but with a smile on his face, “you’re pretty heavy for a ghost.”
Noah huffed from his perch on Ronan’s hips, crossing his arms. “Rude. What if I was sensitive about my weight?”
“You’d be shit out of luck, wouldn’t you?”
Noah did a little side-to-side cock of his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
He smiled reassuringly, studying Ronan’s face. It was a perfect presentation of being concerned about what he said while pretending he didn’t care at all. Despite how convincing it looked, Noah had seen too much of Ronan in the middle of the night to really believe he didn’t care. Something told him if it really mattered to Noah, he would never say it again. There was something very cool about knowing Ronan Lynch that way. Noah tried not to regret he hadn’t known someone like him in life and settled for knowing the real Ronan now.
“Hey, c’mere.”
Ronan tangled his fingers in the front of Noah’s sweater, tugging him down so he was laying on Ronan’s chest like a phantom blanket. Noah relented, though he considered being stubborn. Part of that was his distraction over how much of him was real when Ronan’s hands were on him, when they shared such close quarters together. It was a funny thing, dying. He was wearing clothes he could never take off, so when Ronan grasped at them, it felt like Noah were actually being grabbed by his skin, his nerve endings. A marvel of magic and time that raised more questions than it answered. What would he even do with his sweater if he could take it off? Would it be another ghost? A pile of non-corporeal fabric on the floor next to Ronan’s dirty laundry? Noah giggled at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” Ronan asked, wrinkling his scarred brow.
“What happens when you try to do a ghost’s laundry?”
“Is this an actual joke?”
“About as much as anything else I’ve got going on here.” He made a half-hearted gesture at all of himself and laughed again.
Ronan’s face scrunched up further, like he was trying to figure out how serious Noah was being, and it was enough to make Noah kiss at his pursed lips. He could feel Ronan’s arms circling up around his shoulders, holding him a willing captive so he wouldn’t pull away anytime soon. That was just fine with Noah; he would stay here as long as he could. By now, Noah had no doubt Ronan was connected to the ley line to the essence of what allowed him to exist in this moment. He tried not to take advantage of it very often, especially when he knew he was cold on Ronan’s skin and not always real enough for kisses like these. There was a weird sort of give and take with them, one they kept coming back to in the tenuous late-to-early darkness. Times when Ronan felt safer to be awake and Noah couldn’t truly sleep.
Times when they asked what am I, and the only possible answer was, yours.
They kissed lazily, Ronan’s hand at the back of his head, Noah distantly wondering what his hair felt like between Ronan’s fingers. He pulled back, aware of Ronan’s breath so close to his lips.
“I think you’re good for me,” he said before he could stop himself.
Ronan kissed him to cut off the bark of laughter that almost escaped. Against Noah’s mouth, he said, “I think I threw you off the roof yesterday.”
“You did, but it’s not like you did it to hurt me.” Another kiss. “You knew it wouldn’t.”
“Dunno that makes it any better.” The words were muffled while Ronan tugged at Noah’s lower lip with his teeth.
“Sure it does.” Noah didn’t let himself elaborate. Not when he’d known someone in life who hurt him in more significant ways. Ronan did what he did and said what he said not to rub Noah’s death in his face, though that was often what it sounded like to anyone who heard it. No, he did it because if Noah couldn’t be alive, at least he could live. Tossing things out of windows for fun, sitting in the passenger seat while Ronan raced the dark Henrietta streets, and even being thrown off a roof — all things Noah couldn’t have done in his life for one reason or another, but Ronan encouraged him to do now. “It’s better to me, anyway.” Another kiss. “That’s what matters.”
“You matter,” Ronan growled forcefully. In contrast, the next press of his mouth was as gentle as could be.
They would be at it all night. Neither of them had to be alone.
