averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

Oh, god. He has to plan, he needs to start cooking now to finish everything by this evening and he doesn't even know what to make yet, he has no clue what Gerome might like, that's going to make it take longer--

The panic is evident in his wide-eyed expression as he stares down at Henry. "What time? How much time do we have-- hell, do we have enough groceries to cook for three right now, I don't know--"

The panic gets a small laugh, not entirely surprised at it by now. And Henry interrupts by kissing him hard, biting him harder- dragging at his lip before finally letting go and leaning back a little.

"Relax- impossible, I know, but it's not that bad. I told him to show up in the evening- uh, at seven. That's plenty of time to make something, I don't think anyone's gonna be picky about what it is either."

The distraction absolutely works, an eager sound pulled out of him at that bite, and even when he lets go and moves back Ryan doesn't quite let him pull away too far. He's leaning in, nuzzling at his hair affectionately while his mind's occupied with plans.

"I know, I know, I just- this is sort of important, isn't it? I want to make sure it's nice."

"It's just a visit! There'll be other ones. Probably?" Even if it took threats, or possibly some kind of bribery.

But the nuzzling is a much better shift from panic, and he nudges encouragingly into it, hands scratching down his sides. "Anything you make is going to be nice."

"Hopefully, anyway. I don't have any idea what he likes-- and he's always got that wyvern with him, doesn't he, what do they even eat? I mean, I'd assume some sort of meat, but..."

He huffs out a breath, giving Henry a little nudge. "I'll think about it for a while. Right now I think I'd better get out of the kitchen."

He laughs, taking him by the hand instead, tugging at him out of the kitchen.

"Sure, just don't worry too hard. If he doesn't like something, we'll just know better for next time."

"You're asking me not to worry too much."

He follows easily, though, clutching at Henry's hand as he lets himself be tugged along. The cat trails at their feet, trying to wind around his leg and nearly tripping him. "Frisbee-- god, I survive giants and the fucking sky falling to break my neck because of a cat."

"Careful--"

Henry automatically moves to steady him, flashing Ryan a concerned look, before relaxing again. He's more careful to nudge any cats out of the way this time.

"You sure saw a lot, huh? Good thing everything's back to normal now." Which meant everything was fine.

"...mostly back to normal, yeah. Still going to need to fix anything that got damaged." And try to wipe out the memories of his body, of watching him die- much as he knows he's not going to be able to.

Ryan squeezes his hand tighter, following closer behind him as he murmurs, "Just don't make me see that again, okay?"

"...I'll try? I didn't exactly ask to lose my head. Wish I could've seen it-"

The last is more to himself than anything, tugging him towards the couch in lieu of other options. Unfortunately, he also keeps talking. "I mean, I know what the rest of my guts look like, but with this, I'd have the whole set..."

"Not just losing your head," he answers-- vehement, suddenly, for all that it isn't irritated. "Dying at all, you're not supposed to-- you can't do that to me, okay? The time I didn't see it, that was... that was different, sort of, but I can't- I can't just watch you die like that, Henry. Not again."

Not when he can still smell copper just faintly if he thinks about it, taste it on the back of his tongue, and the sight of it--

Ryan lets go of his hand and gives him a firm nudge toward the couch.

"I didn't- I wasn't trying to, Ryan-" he protests, even as he flops down onto the couch with a sigh. "I really really wasn't planning on it! It just sort of happened."

And not even from attacking something carelessly, or not watching where he was going or- anything else mundane but fun, but also somewhat avoidable. "I never asked for my powers back."

"I know, I just-- that's the problem." He follows Henry onto the couch, settling over him almost protectively, hands on his shoulders. "There wasn't anything to do about it, it just... happened, it was going to happen no matter what, and I thought-- I really did think you weren't coming back. That you were gone and there wasn't anything either of us could have done."

He's said some of it already, but getting that all out at once- it helps, a little. Ryan exhales a heavy breath, leaning closer to rest his head against him as he finishes, "I just don't ever want to feel that helpless about it again."

For a moment, he just holds him, one hand stroking slowly over his hair. Even if he wasn't all that concerned himself- mostly because he didn't want to consider it happening again- he could sort of see why it was upsetting Ryan. If their positions had been reversed, after all-

He's not sure. Henry ignores the thought, focusing on pulling Ryan closer instead. "But I am back. All in one piece, too! Helpless or not, it worked out."

"It might not, next time. --think I'm going to get back in touch with Davesprite about those lessons, maybe see if Jade or somebody will teach me to shoot, because I'm really getting tired of not being able to stop anything."

He loops his arms around Henry, holding him tightly back. Even with his powers he hadn't been a match for Davesprite, not with his lack of experience, and in the mirror Asgard... well. Without Henry he'd have died so much sooner, or just been holed up and terrified. If this happens again he wants to face it.

"I don't think shooting me next time is gonna fix the problem, but who knows? It's a good idea! And with your powers working, I bet you could manage a lot too- you'd just, uh. Sort of have to accept that killing people is a thing."

He rubs gently through his hair to his scalp. "'Cause if you're going to fight someone- like really fight them, trying to disable them is just going to get you killed."

Ryan's silent for a bit, taking the time to consider that while he enjoys the attention. He's always known that, on some level. This is meant to be a war they're fighting, and those fights don't seem like they're going to stop popping up-- if he wants to help, really help and keep the both of them and everyone else he cares about safe... it's what he's going to have to do.

It's far from the first time he's wished he was a healer.

"I still think I could do it, for you," he mutters eventually. "Probably the others, too. Hopefully myself. But definitely for you."

Henry's quiet himself, still a bit warmed at the thought that Ryan would be willing to do that for him. Nudging his head back, he presses his lips to his forehead.

"It'll be okay. It's not really a big deal once you get used to it. Maybe you'll even enjoy it after a while."

He rather hoped not. The kiss turns into a small nuzzle; Henry really didn't like the idea of Ryan fighting, but he couldn't change the situation. He'd protect him as much as he could, prevent it from being necessary- but watching him kill was much preferable to watching him die.

"Doubt it." He shakes his head slightly, just enough to sort of nuzzle back at him in the process. "I'm not going to like it, but if it's what I've got to do-- there's not much choice."

Ryan hesitates there; something's been rolling around in the back of his mind for a little bit now, ever since Henry's admission of his feelings, and while he hadn't been able to say it then... well, he still isn't certain. There's never going to be a way to be certain, he's sure, and if wanting all of this as badly as he does isn't love, if that warm and comfortable feeling every time he's held close doesn't mean he loves him, he's not sure what else does.

"I just want to see you safe," he repeats again, hesitating before he finishes it. "--I love you too, you know that, right?"

The words are unexpected, and there's a reflexively laugh, a tighter cling at them. Warmth rushes through him, and he knows he's flushed from it, but that didn't matter. There was a pleasure in hearing it, a sense of relief, and also an odd, small twitch of guilt.

"Great," is the first word he manages, distracted by tilting his head, brushing their lips together, finally continuing in a low murmur. "I'll protect you too, no matter how many times I die."

"I'd rather you not die at all," he murmurs back, not bothering to pull away before he speaks. He's adjusting to the way Henry really doesn't talk about feeling much, so that flush in response and his earlier admission, the protectiveness-- they're enough for him to feel satisfied, one hand reaching up to cup his face, thumb stroking over Henry's cheek. "We'll just have to keep each other safe, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me," he replies, nipping very gently at him, barely more than a brush of teeth. His hand shifts to his neck, stroking along it, further warmed by the touch to his own face. The amount of affection he felt would've been uncomfortable if it wasn't so nice; it was still a very odd sensation.

He answers that nip with a graze of his own, not bothering to answer aloud; instead he just kisses him, gently, but no less fervent for it. It's more affectionate than needy, and he pulls Henry close with his other arm, keeping him held tight. All he really wants right now is for everything to go away so they can just stay like this, so Ryan could just kiss him all day without having to worry about that impending visit-- but even if it's temporary, it's an incredibly nice distraction.

His murmur's soft, wordless at being held, nestling an edge closer in appreciation. Even as he deepens the kiss, there's little force behind it; it could've been casual if not for the sense of attachment.

He's not even thinking about the visit at all; as far as he was concerned, everything was settled on that front. There would be cooking, sure, but there was plenty of time for that. For now, he's content to focus on the sensations, the way skin felt under his hands, the protectiveness of the embrace.

Ryan is every bit as content with it-- sure, there's some want there, he can probably feel as much with the way they're pressed close, but he's not too eager to push things anywhere else. This is just comfortable, it feels right, and it's sorely needed after those days on the other side. He doesn't even bother making a move to start tugging at Henry's shirt, like he'd usually be doing by now; that doesn't matter, nothing matters but that warmth and the security in it.

When he needs to pause he doesn't go far, murmuring another breathless little "Love you," partly just for the sound of it.

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