[Ronan goes where Andyr guides him, his body either entirely responsive to Andyr's will or entirely unresponsive to Ronan's. On his back, he gives in to every touch, soaking up Andyr's kisses and sucking in soft gasps as those lips seem to find a path that's especially sensitive and Ronan wonders, distantly, how the fuck Andyr knows exactly where to put his mouth.
And then Andyr's found his nipple, and even the lightest graze sends an electric shock of pleasure through him, striking the core of him and drawing out a moan when he opens his mouth to answer:]
G-Good.
[Actually, he doesn't really understand the question. It occurs to him only a few seconds later that Andyr's asking for permission, not feedback. Not that it matters, as long as the result is Andyr's mouth on his skin. Ronan's hands slide up to Andyr's hair, fingers combing through it in encouragement. They can't possibly stop now.]
no subject
And then Andyr's found his nipple, and even the lightest graze sends an electric shock of pleasure through him, striking the core of him and drawing out a moan when he opens his mouth to answer:]
G-Good.
[Actually, he doesn't really understand the question. It occurs to him only a few seconds later that Andyr's asking for permission, not feedback. Not that it matters, as long as the result is Andyr's mouth on his skin. Ronan's hands slide up to Andyr's hair, fingers combing through it in encouragement. They can't possibly stop now.]