The euphoria of his own climax carries Ronan through those final moments of brutality. Kylo's seed warms him in throbbing bursts, deep at the center of him, and Ronan voices wordless praise as he exhales. He's so grateful. In spite of everything that came before, it's a holy act to receive Kylo, and he never forgets to be thankful for it.

They sink onto the bed as one. Ronan hugs Kylo's arms against his chest, in case he had any notions of escape (though he probably didn't) and basks in the inundation. Kylo is over him and inside him and around him. Ronan would always have him this way, if he could.

It's not long before the buzz and the adrenaline fade enough for the agony to creep back into his senses. Kylo's conquest has absolutely destroyed Ronan. He's good for nothing now but laying here in Kylo's embrace. Probably, he should fade away rather than attempt to extract his maimed body from spear that's driven through him. Eventually, that's what he'll do. For now, though, he'll endure the ache and keep Kylo cradled inside him for as long as possible. He'd rather be a ruined boy in Kylo's arms than a pleasant and aimless dream.