"You should grow your hair out."
Furrowing his eyebrows, Ronan glanced over his shoulder. He tried, at least; With Kavinsky's hand at the nape of his neck, pinning him down against the stained sheets, it was quite the task. Licking his lips, he forced out a hoarse, "What?"
Leaning closer, hips stilling, Kavinsky said again, lips brushing Ronan's tattooed shoulder as he spoke, "You should grow your hair out."
Ronan swallowed down a moan when Kavinsky's hips rolled down against him. Struggling for breath, he asked, "What for?"
"Gimme something to hold on to," K said with a shrug. Then, with just the slightest bit of care, he leaned his weight onto the hand at Ronan's nape. "Unless you like this better."
Though Ronan couldn't give a verbal reply, the way his hips bucked back against Kavinsky's was answer enough. He could feel K's vicious, toothy smirk against his shoulder, and he shuddered.
"You like that?"
Ronan made a little noise in his throat at that, aware that K could feel the sound against his palm.
"What was that?"
Pulling one hand from beneath his chest, Ronan grasped at Kavinsky's wrist, pulling his hand lower, pressing it against his throat.
"Oh." Pressing his thumb against Ronan's jugular, K squeezed, hard, and Ronan shivered around him. "You gettin' close, baby?"
Turning his head as best he could, Ronan snarled, teeth bared, "Don't call me that."
"Why not?" Kavinsky's tone was petulant, his thumb stroking along Ronan's pulse, a threat he was fully capable of carrying out. "Does Parrish call you that?" The name sounded vulgar coming from him. "Figured he'd lean more towards darlin'."
K's imitation of Adam's accent was less than stellar, but it sent a chill racing down Ronan's spine just the same, and it took all he had to hold back a soft, needy moan.
"Does he know you're lettin' me fuck you behind his back?"
The question was punctuated by a rough trust and a rougher squeeze to his throat, and it took Ronan two tries to find his voice. "We aren't--"
"Aren'cha, though?" The words came with a sharp nip to Ronan's shoulder, tattooed skin reddening beneath Kavinsky's teeth. "You two've been making eyes at each other nonstop lately. 'S kinda pathetic, actually."
Gasping for breath, Ronan murmured, "Shut up."
The bite K gave him for that, teeth against the back of his neck, was enough to send Ronan over the edge, and he shivered apart to the feeling of Kavinsky's cock twitching hard inside him, filling him up with liquid heat, the hand at his throat squeezing the life out of him, the teeth at his nape marking him for all to see. The feel of it was addictive.
Somehow, despite the afterglow warming his bones, Ronan managed to jab out his elbow, forcing Kavinsky off him, forcing him to pull out. Ronan shuddered, shifting to straddle K's hips, dropping his mouth to the other boy's neck and biting hard, leaving a mark of his very own. Kavinsky's wet, needy gasp was worth all the gold in the world.
"Hey." It was a command, though there was something soft in K's voice, his breath warm and damp against Ronan's neck, and Ronan replaced his teeth with chapped lips, playing along the bloody bruise he'd left behind. "Look at me, Lynch."
Hesitant, still struggling for breath, Ronan did as he was told, meeting K's dark, dark eyes sidelong.
Leaning in, Kavinsky dragged his lips along Ronan's jaw, fingers pressed to his bruised nape, watching the other boy's eyes. There was lust there, and maybe just the slightest bit of something more, but it wasn't enough. Lynch would never look at him the way he looked at Parrish. It hurt, and softly, Kavinsky asked, "Why don't you ever look at me like that?"