[For once Ronan isn't lying in bed tossing and turning, grumbling as he can't find a position that's comfortable to sleep in. For once he isn't resorting to liquor and hoping that would knock him out. He doesn't have to deal with a distressed Chainsaw that never enjoyed him restless. For once he's dozing, arms curled beneath his head and it's Chainsaw indignant caw at the disturbance that actually wakes him.
At first he isn't sure what had her hopping around flapping her wings in an agitated manner but then it was Gansey's voice he hears again that makes sense of it all.
He should be irritated, he normally is when he does finally get to sleep, but not this time it seems as he rolls out of bed, scratches Chainsaw to calm her down a little but all it does is make her jump up into his shoulder, no doubt to glare at Gansey some, because how dare he disturb her master?]
What's up?
[Voice groggy, eyes half closed Ronan looks unusually disheveled as he opens his door, his bird cawing once more, the annoyance clear in that.]
Oh, Christ, he hadn't been awake. A rush of guilt floods Gansey's chest. Insomnia is enough of a burden to him that he knows how awful it feels to be woken when you can finally get to sleep. He hadn't wanted to do that; that's dire, and selfish. What had he been thinking?
He'd been thinking about Ronan, obviously. About the shape of him, the feel of him under Gansey's hands, the scratch of his stubble, the rush of adrenaline that came from being manhandled and directed by him. He'd been thinking of all of those things, and now he's acutely aware of the way Ronan's eyelashes graze against his cheeks, the way the haze of sleep sits on him. It is easy, all too easy, to imagine himself pressed against Ronan in this state.
Stop, for Christ's sake. Awkward, he scrubs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. ]
I'm -
Jesus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't stop thinking about...
[ This is the least eloquent he has ever been. It's like having an out of body experience. He's simultaneously fucking up, and watching himself fuck up. ]
...about you, honestly. About us. About whether we could -
[ Stop. ]
- no, this isn't the time. I'm sorry, Ronan, really. You should go back to sleep, I shouldn't have disturbed you.
[He's really too tired to deal with Gansey's rambling the way he usually does which is either with snorts and witty comments or sneers. There's a roll of his eyes and he wonders if Gansey realizes he's not even making sense. So he flicks his fingers against Gansey's temple, half to make him snap out of his rambling and half to make him start using his brain again.]
I am awake.
[And he's probably going to stay awake now, that's how it goes with the both of them and for once he isn't pissed off about it. The lack of irritation is sensed by Chainsaw who seemingly calms down and gets bored. She hops off his shoulder in favor of playing with something shiny instead. He steps back into his room, swinging the door open so Gansey knows he's allowed in then he flops down onto his bed, lying against his mess of pillows, icy blue eyes set on Gansey.
He's oddly focused for someone who's just woken up.]
[ Sometimes, Gansey's mouth runs away from him. He stops when Ronan flicks his temple, and pauses mid-breath to sigh. Yes, all right. He's rambling. His rambling is reflective of the storm brewing in him, the one that's filled him with enough nervous energy to keep him from sleeping.
He doesn't know why he's nervous. This is Ronan. He doesn't need to be nervous, and he notices also that Ronan is calm. Calm when Gansey isn't, which is an interesting reversal. It almost suits them -
He really needs to stop overthinking all of this.
Becoming suddenly decisive, he strides into the room and follows Ronan to the bed. Despite his energy, his eyes don't leave Ronan's. He tries to form words - the right words, this time. But he's not sure what they are, he's not sure how to frame this emotion into something that's easy to ask.
He pauses for a moment, fingers moving and curling like he's not sure what to do with them. Then he leans forward, ignoring the pace of his heart hammering in his chest, and he presses his lips to Ronan's. This is soft, warm, chaste. Gansey doesn't feel chaste just at the moment, but his lips can pretend at it. When he leans back, he realizes that his hand has found its way to Ronan's neck, and his fingers have splayed against the acute line of his jaw.
He doesn't lean back all that much, and before he can make himself speak, he licks his lips. His eyes flick up to Ronan's. ]
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At first he isn't sure what had her hopping around flapping her wings in an agitated manner but then it was Gansey's voice he hears again that makes sense of it all.
He should be irritated, he normally is when he does finally get to sleep, but not this time it seems as he rolls out of bed, scratches Chainsaw to calm her down a little but all it does is make her jump up into his shoulder, no doubt to glare at Gansey some, because how dare he disturb her master?]
What's up?
[Voice groggy, eyes half closed Ronan looks unusually disheveled as he opens his door, his bird cawing once more, the annoyance clear in that.]
Ignore her, she knows nothing.
[He speaks as if he can understand bird.]
no subject
Oh, Christ, he hadn't been awake. A rush of guilt floods Gansey's chest. Insomnia is enough of a burden to him that he knows how awful it feels to be woken when you can finally get to sleep. He hadn't wanted to do that; that's dire, and selfish. What had he been thinking?
He'd been thinking about Ronan, obviously. About the shape of him, the feel of him under Gansey's hands, the scratch of his stubble, the rush of adrenaline that came from being manhandled and directed by him. He'd been thinking of all of those things, and now he's acutely aware of the way Ronan's eyelashes graze against his cheeks, the way the haze of sleep sits on him. It is easy, all too easy, to imagine himself pressed against Ronan in this state.
Stop, for Christ's sake. Awkward, he scrubs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. ]
I'm -
Jesus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't stop thinking about...
[ This is the least eloquent he has ever been. It's like having an out of body experience. He's simultaneously fucking up, and watching himself fuck up. ]
...about you, honestly. About us. About whether we could -
[ Stop. ]
- no, this isn't the time. I'm sorry, Ronan, really. You should go back to sleep, I shouldn't have disturbed you.
no subject
I am awake.
[And he's probably going to stay awake now, that's how it goes with the both of them and for once he isn't pissed off about it. The lack of irritation is sensed by Chainsaw who seemingly calms down and gets bored. She hops off his shoulder in favor of playing with something shiny instead. He steps back into his room, swinging the door open so Gansey knows he's allowed in then he flops down onto his bed, lying against his mess of pillows, icy blue eyes set on Gansey.
He's oddly focused for someone who's just woken up.]
So, whether we could what?
no subject
He doesn't know why he's nervous. This is Ronan. He doesn't need to be nervous, and he notices also that Ronan is calm. Calm when Gansey isn't, which is an interesting reversal. It almost suits them -
He really needs to stop overthinking all of this.
Becoming suddenly decisive, he strides into the room and follows Ronan to the bed. Despite his energy, his eyes don't leave Ronan's. He tries to form words - the right words, this time. But he's not sure what they are, he's not sure how to frame this emotion into something that's easy to ask.
He pauses for a moment, fingers moving and curling like he's not sure what to do with them. Then he leans forward, ignoring the pace of his heart hammering in his chest, and he presses his lips to Ronan's. This is soft, warm, chaste. Gansey doesn't feel chaste just at the moment, but his lips can pretend at it. When he leans back, he realizes that his hand has found its way to Ronan's neck, and his fingers have splayed against the acute line of his jaw.
He doesn't lean back all that much, and before he can make himself speak, he licks his lips. His eyes flick up to Ronan's. ]
That.
I wanted you. That's all.