sᴡᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ 𖦆 Devon is often described as a problem boy. He always gets hit in the face and has a folder full of reports from the multiple fights he has gotten into.
However, it couldn't be further from the truth. But who could believe him? Af...
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The Cullen house was practically empty. Edward had gone out with Bella, and except for Ronan, the rest of the Cullens had taken the opportunity to go hunting, as they hadn't done so in a long time.
It had been a few weeks since that dance, and things had remained quite calm and uneventful. Although Charlie still kept an eye on Edward, and no one could blame him, it was terrible since Edward hadn't really been at fault for anything, and, in reality, he was the one who saved Bella from certain death.
Devon was in Ronan's room. He had been there several times, but he had never stopped to carefully look at each item around. Soft music played in the background, rock—something Devon had discovered Ronan really liked. Although it was just to avoid keeping the place too silent.
Ronan was on the bed, leaning against the headboard with both hands behind his neck as he watched Devon explore the room. Devon had opened the closet and was examining the clothes inside. There were a lot of them, but strangely everything was perfectly organized. He supposed Alice had a lot to do with it since everything seemed to be "in style" and sorted by color. In reality, it wasn't thanks to Alice; Ronan was a lover of dressing well and fashion, but it was something he didn't mention out loud to anyone.
"Do you know," Ronan's voice was heard, but Devon didn't turn to look at him. He kept looking at the different hoodies hanging there. "I would have liked to meet you when you were still human."
Devon halted his movements and furrowed his brow; however, he didn't turn to look at him, but a small sly smile spread across his face.
"Why is that?" He pulled out a black hoodie with a very small embroidery of a red dragon on the right side of the chest.
In a second, Ronan was behind Devon, his cheek resting gently in the space between his shoulder and neck, while his hands settled on his waist, fingertips lightly caressing a trace of Devon's exposed skin.
Devon closed his eyes at the sudden and pleasant sensation. Feeling a slight burning on his skin when Ronan touched him.
"Because I would have loved to feel your skin burning under my touch," he murmured near his ear, almost as if he had read his thoughts. "I would have loved to feel your skin prickling and hear your moans every time I left kisses here." He kissed Devon's neck, taking his time in the area and moving a bit higher and then back down.
It was true that now that he didn't need to breathe, he couldn't moan, but he could at least pretend. It wasn't complicated, especially with these provocative actions from Ronan.
"I would have also loved to see your sweaty skin under mine and hear your accelerated heartbeats."
Ronan's hands slid gently under Devon's shirt, smoothly gliding over his skin, first tracing his hips and then moving upward along his abdomen. He was really delicate with his actions.
