Kylo's mouth tugs towards a slight smile as he feels Rey's lazy, unashamed amusement slide over his skin like a touch. Tradition indeed. He can feel the impression of her presence layered over the reality directly around him: it's as if she's leaning over his back to murmur wicked suggestion, watching him lounging here with his escort sat faithfully at his feet, head resting against his thigh.

His fingers still for a moment before embarking on a new trajectory— abandoning the rhythmic pass through Ronan's hair to trail over his temple, following the delicate coil of his ear round to the sharp line of his jaw. Let her feel this: the anticipation stirring as he toys with his lover, remembering the way the three of them move, breathe, gasp together, the glorious overload that builds between them...

"Ronan," he murmurs, desire already dragging at the edges of his words. "We've been extended an invitation."