He's quiet and still for a long moment. Just the pounding pulse of his heart, the tight grip of his hand, all the places their bodies are pressed together. The sheen of sweat cooling on Ronan's skin, the dampness of his pillow.

"You have me," he says, pressing the truth of it to Ronan's spine. His lips are soft, but his kiss is unyielding, firm as a seal. His eyes close. "You have... all of me."

And that's the fear, really. He doesn't have anything more, anything better to give. He has nothing left to offer, should Ronan find him wanting. He kisses Ronan's back again, again, hoping somehow he can restore Ronan's faith. He didn't mean to wound it. He didn't.

"Do you understand? You have everything, and I need—" he cuts himself off, sucking in a shuddering breath. "I won't be a mistake. I won't."