averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

"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.

Idly, Henry wondered if he'd ever get used to hearing that; it felt like an unlikely proposition. It still gets a laugh, if a shallow, breathless one, nuzzling at the corner of his mouth. "Love you too," is the eventual reply, and it feels just as unusual to say it, as it was to hear it.

It was also unlikely to not respond to all of that closeness and contact, but he's likewise reluctant to push forward, just enjoying the sensation, the reassurance of that mutual interest.

There's a quiet laugh in return, muffled against his lips as Ryan kisses him again, a little more eagerly; it's a bit unusual to hear for him too, it's something he hadn't quite expected to (at least not for a good while, if ever) but he absolutely won't complain. He's not sure how often he's going to hear it after this, quietly filing away the way it sounds in his memory. The dizzy little rush that comes with it isn't anything that remembering will really do justice, but that's all the more reason to look forward to it later.

"You're not going to get sick of hearing that, are you? Because you might just have to put up with it."

"I doubt it! But who knows? You'll have to say it a whole bunch to find out."

It's punctuated by a sharper nip, more for emphasis than to hurt, teeth reluctant to let go of his lip entirely, grazing smoothly along it. So it makes the rest of his words a bit mumbled. "I can think of worse things to put up with."

"We'll see, then. I know I'm not going to be tired of it anytime soon."

It's easier to just press against him, pinning him to the couch, than it is to try to hold him any closer-- and while normally he might like this the other way around, well. He's got a small possessive streak of his own, sometimes, and all of this just means that Henry is really his.

He doesn't reply that time, apart from a pleased noise from- well, everything. Ryan pinning him was a bit unexpected, but not at all bad, his arms shifting to help hold him there. And if the way his fingers dug into his back was a bit possessive itself- Henry didn't think much of it.

For a bit more, he's still content with just the affectionate closeness- but that same thing means it's only a matter of time before Ryan can't help but need more, the kisses to Henry's neck becoming nips, flicks of his tongue, and his breath coming harder. He finally lets himself rub against him with a stifled whine at the sensation, the satisfaction of it, teeth digging into his neck in a firm bite- he's let Henry give enough without quite returning the favor so far, and when he pulls back to look at his face again, it's questioning.

"--I want to take you, this time," he murmurs, "if... if you want me to."

It might've been something of an inevitability- but it was a good sort, something that he only wanted to encourage more of. He edges into nips and bites, Ryan's mouth warm and slightly damp against his skin, the pressure itself a slight surprise, but a welcome one. A moan chokes in his throat as he takes a sharper breath, arching automatically against that rubbing, then deliberately adding to it, after a moment's thought.

It takes a moment more to focus enough for words, to remember to take another breath. "Why not?" he says, interrupting himself with a very firm kiss, hands moving to either side of Ryan's face, in a comparatively gentler gesture. It's only reluctantly that Henry pauses enough to add, mumbled against his lips, "...guess I've been sort of curious."

He just gets a breathless laugh in response at first, that affectionate touch matched as Ryan strokes his cheek; his brain is still trying to catch back up after that kiss threw it off-balance again (very effectively too, he wouldn't mind a bit more of that), and he gives Henry another distracted kiss in the meantime.

"--probably better move, then," he eventually says, reluctantly. "You know, I'm really starting to consider keeping a second stash under the couch or something, if the cat wouldn't just get at it."

"I could just use a crow to grab it... probably," he mumbles against Ryan's lips, thoroughly reluctant to have to go anywhere, mostly because that would mean not remaining as pressed up to him as he was. For whole minutes.

But eventually Henry sighs, nudging his forehead back against his, "...you're gonna have to move, if you want me to get anywhere. Really need to keep stuff here, even if the cat would drag it around."

"...y'know what, try the crow. I really don't want to move, bet you it'd work fine."

He's no more eager to shift away, even knowing that they'll have to move eventually if for no other reason than the fabric in the way-- relocating completely is too much time, too much effort, and to be honest he rather likes the idea of just staying here. After staying in a shared house for most of his time here it's nice to have the option to do what they want, where they want, without fear of being caught.

Ryan doesn't have to ask twice; Henry doesn't respond, apart from another kiss, harder than the last, either pulling him closer or holding him there. From a stray bit of shadow there's the flapping of wings, a brief rush of air as the bird squirms out and flies past, and for a minute or two there's a certain amount of rustling. Some distant clattering.

Henry's not inclined to notice, a low noise muffled into his mouth as the kiss gets more demanding, eager. His leg shifts, wanting to wrap around him, a few extra moments of friction, even if he'd have to detach soon enough to get at clothing.

But it's soon enough there's a return flapping. The bottle would've been too difficult for a regular crow to carry, and even the shadow bird hangs low in the air as it returns, dropping it off by the edge of the couch. Swooping past, it finds a corner to perch on, grooming itself with a bit of self-satisfaction. Sure, there'd be a mess to clean up later, but that wasn't its problem.

He hardly notices the noise either, too distracted by Henry- he helps tug that leg around his waist, hand running back up his thigh to work its way under his shirt, palm meeting skin with an appreciative murmur into the kiss. Ryan could easily just settle for this, and he's tempted to, highly tempted to just ignore that plan for now and stay pressed against him here until they're both satisfied.

But they'd gone to the trouble of sending the crow to fetch, and he belatedly realizes the noise had stopped at some point. He reluctantly leans back, letting his nails scratch over Henry's skin as his hands pull away. "...much as I like that on you," he murmurs with a grin, tugging lightly at the fabric of his shirt, "think you might want to take care of that."

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