averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

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."

There's no reserve in pressing up against those hands, easily distracted by the contact, and without Ryan pulling back, he could've easily insisted on fulfilling that current need, just as they were. But he doesn't quite whine when those hands pull away from his skin, though there is a small impatient wriggle anyway, even as he starts unbuttoning his own shirt.

Not that Henry bothers doing more than opening it, before moving his hands back to Ryan, tugging and pulling at his clothes, "could say the same about you, you know."

"Hey, I asked first," he answers, half-laughing-- Ryan reaches over to pull the fabric down off of Henry's shoulders before his hands move to pull his own shirt over his head and off, leaving it draped over an arm of the couch. He can worry about it later, right now he's focused on unfastening his pants and tugging them over his hips. They join the shirt, tossed aside carelessly for the moment, though once he's stripped he can't help a tiny shiver, skin pricking. "Little colder out here."

Getting his own shirt off the rest of the way, Henry considers just dragging himself closer again, but manages to hold it back, if only just.

"Not for long, maybe," he finally replies, pausing just to brush a breathless little kiss over his throat, following it with an even lighter nip, hands dragging over his hips, down his thighs. It's with a sigh that he lets go long enough to work on getting free of his own pants, still half-watching Ryan in the process. "So," he adds, successfully kicking the fabric lower, "how do you want- this?"

[Off-Comm Threads]

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