[Ryan blinks over at him, hesitating for a moment before he moves over to the bed and takes a seat-- quietly surveying the room, just to check it all out. He hasn't been here before, he's curious.]
Sorry. You talked to me long enough telepathically, it's just- easier to pick you up now, sort of. Your voice's louder.
[It's not the warmest statement, but he does sound relieved. As for the room itself, it's plain that they haven't lived there long, because it hasn't been decorated all that much or accumulated a lot of clutter; the closet is plainly dominated by Petre's clothing, only a few hangers holding anything that looks like John's, and his side is somewhat tidier (papers, books, the usual school detritus, litter John's side more freely.]
So. You met a guy named Harry - (I didn't even get his last name) - Harry something? Another senior? New this year?
[He runs a hand through his hair, which is disheveled from lying down; it's only approaching evening, but he's already in sweats and a worn out t-shirt, thoroughly done with the whole day.]
He's - fucking awesome, actually. [He can't help but chuckle.] Nothing like Petre. But it was still messed up.
It was weird. Everything about it was weird. It should've been perfect and he screwed up the whole thing.
[There's not a lot he can tell, really, because their plans were foiled by John's need to keep a clean record so that he and Petre can sneak off to New York city the coming weekend. And he's still not letting Ryan know about that.]
You won't believe it, though. Harry came on to me too. I'm a goddamn magnet for guys around here, I don't get it.
What? They weren't exactly crawling all over me when I was homeless. I stunk, yeah, but so did they.
[Alright. A little massaging of the truth'll work.]
I asked what he wanted to do, and he said - he actually wanted to hotwire one of the cars in the garage and take a joyride to Salem. I mean, who even thinks of that, never mind means it? But Petre's gotten me in so much shit lately that I'm gonna go back on full lockdown if I even look at someone wrong.
[He manages a bit of a laugh there, relaxing slightly. Okay, nothing happened, the guy just flirted with him and wants to get into trouble. That's the kind of thing Ryan can't really offer, and so long as it's not someone trying to mess with John's head like that? Maybe he does need someone to do stupid shit with.]
They'll back off eventually, right? I mean, after you've behaved for a while they've got to quit watching every move.
Hey, take that back. Harry is way cooler than Petre, and I had to look like a big-talking asshole who couldn't back it up because of him. And I can't even say he's gonna pay for it because I can't do anything.
[He rolls his eyes and shifts to lean his back against the wall.]
You should've seen him when I pulled out the fire. Like it gave him a high. No one's ever reacted to my mutation like that before. [Alarm bells - he's being made to feel special again.] It's always just 'what, you can't make it on your own?' Bullshit like that. It was enough for him.
[It sounds a little bit put out-- okay, sure, he'd panicked a little the first time he saw it, but in his defense it was coming right at him. It's a reasonable reflex to have, and he hasn't said anything negative about John's mutation before (even if he hasn't ever been as excited as it sounds like Harry was.]
Kind of surprised he just wanted to sneak out instead of going and setting shit on fire, if he was that into it.
[Again goes unspoken, unthought, but they both know it belongs there.]
I mean, we are friends, right? Me having other friends isn't gonna get in the way of that? It's not even like that with Harry, that went worse than everything else did. Not going there again.
[Yes, his tone says, with a flicker of guilt, but he's not willing to admit to it aloud. It makes him feel clingy, and he knows it's selfish of him, unfair-- he just can't keep from feeling that way.]
It's not gonna get in the way, I promise, I just--
[Yeah, he is jealous. Whatever feelings Ryan has for him, they're getting stronger, and he feels like he should disentangle himself from this immediately. He doesn't need any more complicated in his life.
But Ryan gives him things he can't get from anyone else. Things he never wanted until they were suddenly present and freely on offer. He doesn't know where else he'd find them or how he'd ask for them, and he's so incredibly selfish at heart that he can't let go now.]
I told you, he came on to me. And it was just funny at first, but I thought about what you said about not burying it or locking it away or whatever, and thought why not? He's good looking. He's cool. He's not Petre. Might as well try it. So I went for it, I let him kiss me, and he cut it off right away and said - get this - "You're not ready yet." What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
[For a moment he's quiet, obviously considering, with the tense set to his jaw that John's probably seen every time he's trying to control his own thoughts so that they don't slip.
Good looking. Cool. Not Petre. Not exactly high standards, but if there's nothing wrong with him and he still doesn't meet the bar-- clearly there is. There's something wrong about him if John's more willing to kiss a guy he just met than the one who's been talking him through all of this.]
Could be a lot of things. Didn't want a lack of experience, maybe. Could've been obvious you were trying it out.
[And please, please let that be the only question John has, because one is about his limit right now.]
[What Ryan doesn't seem to realize is that he's missing one major element of both scenarios: he's never asked.]
Still a dick move. It's not like he was that serious about it either, we were just goofing off. I have to try it out on someone if I'm ever gonna figure this out.
[His gaze slides over to Ryan then, even as his mind tells him that it's about the worst idea he's ever had. Not a voice that speaks up often or very loudly, but this time it's basically yelling, which means that his bad idea threshold has been breached by a country mile. He doesn't look away, though.]
[He's still too wrapped up in his own unhappy thoughts to read that look for what it is, because clearly what he wants isn't something that's going to happen. Ryan's just trying not to think of it as a possibility and let himself down later.
And after that, he huffs out a breath, abruptly shakes his head. If he doesn't say something it's just going to get out another way.]
Look, I know I just said I wasn't going to get jealous, but- I don't know if I can keep talking you through it every time this happens, okay? I mean. I'm trying. I don't want to just tell you not to talk about it, I really don't, but--
[His gaze is still sharp on Ryan, still considering. Not something sensible like the potential ramifications or if he's even got any real interest, but how Ryan would kiss. He can be both tentative and surprisingly sharp - which would come out most strongly? Petre eased John into it until John finally crumbled and amped up the intensity, while Harry essentially crushed their mouths together with no warning. What would Ryan do?
(And really, if that much consideration isn't a sign of some interest...)]
--no? I mean, yeah, but I didn't think I needed to.
[Ryan frowns over at him, worrying at his lower lip.]
You were so torn over it when it happened with Petre, and with the way you reacted to that kind of thing before-- no, I wasn't gonna try to nudge you into anything, I didn't want to push it or- or make you stop talking to me.
Figured you'd decide if you wanted to or not, you know I would, I just... I thought you weren't interested. I mean. Fuck, you know I like you, I've talked about all of this with you, I've been right here and you'd rather go make out with some stranger just because he hit on you.
[It all comes out a little more vehemently than he meant-- he hadn't intended to even say most of it, but once the thoughts started spilling out there wasn't any hope of stopping them where he wanted to.]
[There it all is, mixed together into one moment. He's angry, and harsh in his anger, but also gentle in his actions - of course he wouldn't risk their friendship. Of course he wouldn't try asking when John was upset. Ryan is nice, considerate, places himself below others.
When John said there was nothing wrong with Ryan, what he really meant was that if the situation made any sense at all, Ryan would've been the right choice. John just doesn't have the same gravitational pull toward kind, gentle treatment, because it's so unfamiliar that he trusts it even less than outright cruelty. That's not Ryan's fault, or his mistake, but it's why this didn't happen immediately.
It's happening now, though. At the very least, he's getting up on his knees and settling himself in front of Ryan, sliding off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table before turning back to him.]
Your eyes are really green. [An idle thought, somewhere between accidental and intentionally sent.] And you know I've always liked your hair.
[That's where he starts; after an aborted attempt to run his fingers through it, he just starts to play with it again, catching the ends of stray curls between his fingertips and rubbing gently.]
[He's not sure how to respond to any of that, from moving close to the thoughtful, almost sweet gesture of taking his glasses off for him, those thoughts; at first Ryan seems almost frozen in bewilderment, busy coming to terms with the idea that yes, this might actually happen. That he doesn't need to keep telling himself it's not possible.
Ryan finally sets a hesitant hand on his shoulder, right up against the inner curve of it- then tilts it up, long fingers splayed broadly over the side of his neck.]
John-
[That's all he manages. Confusion and affection are both wrapped into that single thought, and in place of saying anything else-- he leans in to press a kiss to John's lips, gentle, inquisitive, like he's not yet sure he's really allowed to do this.]
But even before that, the hand on his neck makes him shiver, because Ryan's hands are huge against his body and somehow he never considered that factor. Ryan's nearly a foot taller than him, of course his extremities would also be larger, but the reality of that doesn't really hit home until he feels that Ryan could very nearly touch the tips of thumb and middle finger around John's neck.
With that rather grim (and strangely exciting) thought in his mind, he leans right into Ryan's kiss, hovering over him for once because Ryan's seated and he's still up on his knees - he seems eager enough, but as soon as it becomes clear that he intends to continue what Ryan started, the problem also becomes clear.]
(I should touch him. Where? His hair? It'll pull if I try to get my fingers right in it, kinda doubt that's his thing. His neck? He's got his hand on my neck. Where do I put my hands? Girls have obvious fucking spots to hold, this is - there's no way he's going for tongue first, I should - ugh, this angle is stupid, I'm too far away, fuck -)
[That stream of thoughts is almost overwhelming at first, with the way he's still caught up in the wonder of this happening at all-- but then Ryan grins against his lips, laughs softly in a way that's very clearly not meant to be at him.]
Here.
[Ryan takes one of his hands, lifts it to the back of his own neck-] Like this, [he thinks in a near-murmur, with a brief image flickering across unbidden. Fingers in his hair- yes, he's fine with some pulling, if that's any indication. John's other hand is guided down to his waist before Ryan shifts his own free hand to John's hip, giving a light, leading tug.]
C'mere, you're gonna kill your neck kneeling up like that. Just get comfortable.
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[Ryan blinks over at him, hesitating for a moment before he moves over to the bed and takes a seat-- quietly surveying the room, just to check it all out. He hasn't been here before, he's curious.]
Sorry. You talked to me long enough telepathically, it's just- easier to pick you up now, sort of. Your voice's louder.
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[It's not the warmest statement, but he does sound relieved. As for the room itself, it's plain that they haven't lived there long, because it hasn't been decorated all that much or accumulated a lot of clutter; the closet is plainly dominated by Petre's clothing, only a few hangers holding anything that looks like John's, and his side is somewhat tidier (papers, books, the usual school detritus, litter John's side more freely.]
So. You met a guy named Harry - (I didn't even get his last name) - Harry something? Another senior? New this year?
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[Oh yeah, he knows. He doesn't have to have actually spoken to the guy to have seen him, picked things up from the thoughts of the others around.]
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[He's not really angry. It's just sheer frustration at the stupidity of the situation.]
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[He can read the frustration easily enough, at least, and his own response isn't very defensive.]
I'm guessing you found out the, uh. Awkward way.
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[He runs a hand through his hair, which is disheveled from lying down; it's only approaching evening, but he's already in sweats and a worn out t-shirt, thoroughly done with the whole day.]
He's - fucking awesome, actually. [He can't help but chuckle.] Nothing like Petre. But it was still messed up.
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[That's a kind of terrifying thought, actually, and he quickly shakes it off.]
...it's still gonna be weird for you that he looks so close to him though, isn't it.
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[There's not a lot he can tell, really, because their plans were foiled by John's need to keep a clean record so that he and Petre can sneak off to New York city the coming weekend. And he's still not letting Ryan know about that.]
You won't believe it, though. Harry came on to me too. I'm a goddamn magnet for guys around here, I don't get it.
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[It's a little more flat than he really wanted it to be, and he pauses a moment before huffing out a breath, carrying on.]
...what'd he screw up?
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[Alright. A little massaging of the truth'll work.]
I asked what he wanted to do, and he said - he actually wanted to hotwire one of the cars in the garage and take a joyride to Salem. I mean, who even thinks of that, never mind means it? But Petre's gotten me in so much shit lately that I'm gonna go back on full lockdown if I even look at someone wrong.
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[He manages a bit of a laugh there, relaxing slightly. Okay, nothing happened, the guy just flirted with him and wants to get into trouble. That's the kind of thing Ryan can't really offer, and so long as it's not someone trying to mess with John's head like that? Maybe he does need someone to do stupid shit with.]
They'll back off eventually, right? I mean, after you've behaved for a while they've got to quit watching every move.
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[He rolls his eyes and shifts to lean his back against the wall.]
You should've seen him when I pulled out the fire. Like it gave him a high. No one's ever reacted to my mutation like that before. [Alarm bells - he's being made to feel special again.] It's always just 'what, you can't make it on your own?' Bullshit like that. It was enough for him.
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[It sounds a little bit put out-- okay, sure, he'd panicked a little the first time he saw it, but in his defense it was coming right at him. It's a reasonable reflex to have, and he hasn't said anything negative about John's mutation before (even if he hasn't ever been as excited as it sounds like Harry was.]
Kind of surprised he just wanted to sneak out instead of going and setting shit on fire, if he was that into it.
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[Again goes unspoken, unthought, but they both know it belongs there.]
I mean, we are friends, right? Me having other friends isn't gonna get in the way of that? It's not even like that with Harry, that went worse than everything else did. Not going there again.
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[Yes, his tone says, with a flicker of guilt, but he's not willing to admit to it aloud. It makes him feel clingy, and he knows it's selfish of him, unfair-- he just can't keep from feeling that way.]
It's not gonna get in the way, I promise, I just--
[...hold up.]
...what went worse than everything else?
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But Ryan gives him things he can't get from anyone else. Things he never wanted until they were suddenly present and freely on offer. He doesn't know where else he'd find them or how he'd ask for them, and he's so incredibly selfish at heart that he can't let go now.]
I told you, he came on to me. And it was just funny at first, but I thought about what you said about not burying it or locking it away or whatever, and thought why not? He's good looking. He's cool. He's not Petre. Might as well try it. So I went for it, I let him kiss me, and he cut it off right away and said - get this - "You're not ready yet." What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
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Good looking. Cool. Not Petre. Not exactly high standards, but if there's nothing wrong with him and he still doesn't meet the bar-- clearly there is. There's something wrong about him if John's more willing to kiss a guy he just met than the one who's been talking him through all of this.]
Could be a lot of things. Didn't want a lack of experience, maybe. Could've been obvious you were trying it out.
[And please, please let that be the only question John has, because one is about his limit right now.]
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Still a dick move. It's not like he was that serious about it either, we were just goofing off. I have to try it out on someone if I'm ever gonna figure this out.
[His gaze slides over to Ryan then, even as his mind tells him that it's about the worst idea he's ever had. Not a voice that speaks up often or very loudly, but this time it's basically yelling, which means that his bad idea threshold has been breached by a country mile. He doesn't look away, though.]
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[He's still too wrapped up in his own unhappy thoughts to read that look for what it is, because clearly what he wants isn't something that's going to happen. Ryan's just trying not to think of it as a possibility and let himself down later.
And after that, he huffs out a breath, abruptly shakes his head. If he doesn't say something it's just going to get out another way.]
Look, I know I just said I wasn't going to get jealous, but- I don't know if I can keep talking you through it every time this happens, okay? I mean. I'm trying. I don't want to just tell you not to talk about it, I really don't, but--
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(And really, if that much consideration isn't a sign of some interest...)]
Have you ever thought about just asking?
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[Ryan frowns over at him, worrying at his lower lip.]
You were so torn over it when it happened with Petre, and with the way you reacted to that kind of thing before-- no, I wasn't gonna try to nudge you into anything, I didn't want to push it or- or make you stop talking to me.
Figured you'd decide if you wanted to or not, you know I would, I just... I thought you weren't interested. I mean. Fuck, you know I like you, I've talked about all of this with you, I've been right here and you'd rather go make out with some stranger just because he hit on you.
[It all comes out a little more vehemently than he meant-- he hadn't intended to even say most of it, but once the thoughts started spilling out there wasn't any hope of stopping them where he wanted to.]
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When John said there was nothing wrong with Ryan, what he really meant was that if the situation made any sense at all, Ryan would've been the right choice. John just doesn't have the same gravitational pull toward kind, gentle treatment, because it's so unfamiliar that he trusts it even less than outright cruelty. That's not Ryan's fault, or his mistake, but it's why this didn't happen immediately.
It's happening now, though. At the very least, he's getting up on his knees and settling himself in front of Ryan, sliding off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table before turning back to him.]
Your eyes are really green. [An idle thought, somewhere between accidental and intentionally sent.] And you know I've always liked your hair.
[That's where he starts; after an aborted attempt to run his fingers through it, he just starts to play with it again, catching the ends of stray curls between his fingertips and rubbing gently.]
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Ryan finally sets a hesitant hand on his shoulder, right up against the inner curve of it- then tilts it up, long fingers splayed broadly over the side of his neck.]
John-
[That's all he manages. Confusion and affection are both wrapped into that single thought, and in place of saying anything else-- he leans in to press a kiss to John's lips, gentle, inquisitive, like he's not yet sure he's really allowed to do this.]
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But even before that, the hand on his neck makes him shiver, because Ryan's hands are huge against his body and somehow he never considered that factor. Ryan's nearly a foot taller than him, of course his extremities would also be larger, but the reality of that doesn't really hit home until he feels that Ryan could very nearly touch the tips of thumb and middle finger around John's neck.
With that rather grim (and strangely exciting) thought in his mind, he leans right into Ryan's kiss, hovering over him for once because Ryan's seated and he's still up on his knees - he seems eager enough, but as soon as it becomes clear that he intends to continue what Ryan started, the problem also becomes clear.]
(I should touch him. Where? His hair? It'll pull if I try to get my fingers right in it, kinda doubt that's his thing. His neck? He's got his hand on my neck. Where do I put my hands? Girls have obvious fucking spots to hold, this is - there's no way he's going for tongue first, I should - ugh, this angle is stupid, I'm too far away, fuck -)
[And on and on it goes.]
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Here.
[Ryan takes one of his hands, lifts it to the back of his own neck-] Like this, [he thinks in a near-murmur, with a brief image flickering across unbidden. Fingers in his hair- yes, he's fine with some pulling, if that's any indication. John's other hand is guided down to his waist before Ryan shifts his own free hand to John's hip, giving a light, leading tug.]
C'mere, you're gonna kill your neck kneeling up like that. Just get comfortable.
[On his lap, obviously.]
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