[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.
- pretty much everything by the sounds of it, by that laugh, and John doesn't even remember half of what he was thinking. His first reaction is embarrassed anger, but then Ryan's just guiding his hands into the right positions. Patient. Gentle. No expectations to be met here, no levels of readiness; he just has to be willing and Ryan will make up for the rest.
It's still unsettling, hard to trust because there must be a catch, but John lets his hands be guided. Curls his fingers lightly into the hair at the back of Ryan's neck, just the barest hint of a grip for now. Uncertainty flickers anew in his eyes when Ryan obviously tries to lead him into straddling his lap, but he shifts forward just as willingly and settles there. Slowly, as an experiment, he starts to slide the hand on Ryan's waist up and down his side.
And then it's his turn to kiss, anchored more solidly and with some idea of what he's doing. Just as he thought about earlier, he's the first to brush his tongue along Ryan's lower lip, nudging lightly before taking it between his own lips and sucking it against his teeth; no bite, just the suggestion that it could happen.
He knows how to kiss. What's the problem here? He can do this.]
[He keeps taking it slow, keeps himself from reaching out to pull John closer to him like he wants to do the second he's in Ryan's lap-- instead he just lets him settle, sighs against his mouth to show his approval at the way John's hand moves.
Then he's kissing more firmly, licking and sucking at his lip, and for a moment Ryan completely forgets he's trying to ease him into this. He leans back just slightly, just enough so that it'll tug a little when he does.]
(just like that- harder-)
[When he leans back in it's with a firmer press against John's mouth, a nip at his lip to return the favor and show him that yes, he's into that, that's good. Ryan's arm wraps around him to pull him close, the hand at his neck practically clinging rather than simply staying settled.]
[That's a clear signal if he ever got one, even before the thought - harder, such a raw and demanding thought that John shivers again simply because it's coming from Ryan. There's the rough side, the aggression that flashes up now and then. He's about to comply when Ryan gets his teeth into John's own lip and he moans instantly, almost in spite of himself, head tilting and mouth opening fully to lick into Ryan's.
He's starting to lose himself in it. Ryan is all around him, long arms and firm grip, the scent of him (something vaguely fruity - that's not his shampoo, is it?) and the taste (also sweet, like he had dessert, John has no taste for sweets but no problem sucking that taste from Ryan's tongue) and the warmth of their bodies pressed close together; most of that warmth is his own, he knows, but he always seems to feel it reflected back against the heat of another. An idea of how flushed he feels to others.
The hand at Ryan's side, small and warm, pushes up his shirt just a little to seek out bare skin and press his fingertips eagerly into it. No pressure, no expectation. No manipulation. He wants to, so he is. It's so much easier.]
[It's hard not to just give in instantly when he's wanted this even more since John admitted to what happened with Petre-- and so he doesn't bother trying. Ryan's fairly resolute in not pushing this, not pushing anything on him, but he's eager and willing to carry on anything that John starts. His own end of the kiss still has that curious, inquisitive touch to it, the only thing keeping it from feeling hungry- instead it's probing, sweeping, intent on getting a taste of everything he has to offer.]
God, you're warm.
[It's an idle, almost dizzy thought. For once, Ryan isn't bleeding thoughts out of his mind like it's a sieve, projecting nothing but a soft, pleased buzz of contentment as he all but melts into John's touch, presses against him.]
Just 'cause I don't make it myself doesn't mean it's not in there.
[Heat, constant awareness of heat, taking in and cataloguing like a computer and occasionally tempting him so greatly that something ends up on fire. Leaking from his pores when he can't use it to his advantage, a light sheen of sweat so often on his brow. John's entire being is heat.
And right now he feels hotter than ever. It's not something he would've expected when he first met Ryan, when someone crept into his thoughts and disturbed his attempted relaxation, but the sparks began to show early and a spark is all he needs. His fingertips press even harder, just enough for a bite of fingernails, and he finally gives Ryan's hair a tug at the same time to tilt his head back so that he can kiss him more thoroughly. His body's starting to move, just the subtlest shifting but something Ryan will likely pick up on, as attuned as he must be to this situation he thought would never happen - his hips are rolling forward, the position making it so natural that he doesn't even notice.]
[That bite of fingernails, the tug at his hair- both draw little gasps from him against John's open mouth, make him shift back against his body in the same way. The heat's an infectious thing, makes Ryan feel almost like it's flooding right into him through the kiss and their closeness, warming him in the same way it keeps John running hot.]
-d'you have any idea how much I wanted you?
[Almost rhetorical, with a dizzily lightheaded feel to it that makes it feel like it could have been an unintentional thought, if it weren't obviously meant for him to hear. He's pulling John close, breaking the kiss so he can mouth at his neck instead.]
[When Ryan starts to push back against his thrusts, he finally notices them, and there's just a brief pause while he processes the unconscious reaction - then there's that wonderful thought, food for his already massive ego, two years without a partner in this fucking school and someone wanted him. Not in a sick, controlling way like Petre, but him, the person he actually is.
By the time Ryan's mouth makes it to his neck, he's gone. Actually bucking into Ryan's lap, long moans necessitating a fist jammed into his mouth to keep them from carrying through the walls or out the door.
don't stop don't stop ryan right there bite suck anything don't stop]
[There's no way Ryan could tell him no, not with him practically begging for it, with the way John's hips are moving against him-- a soft little sound escapes him as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive skin of John's neck, his tongue tracing over the spot before he gives it a firm (but not hard bite.]
-like that?
[His hands, meanwhile, are slipping beneath John's shirt, smoothing along his sides to mirror what he'd done to Ryan earlier; there's just a faint little graze of nails, like he'd used, but from Ryan it's a little more tentative.]
[The way he whimpers around that fist in his mouth, more breath than vocalization and much more high pitched than one would suspect him capable of, probably answers that question; if not, he also cranes his neck sharply to the side to expose as much as he can to Ryan's mouth, so that's a definite yes.
The light little touch on his sides makes him grin, though, and he gives his poor finger a break to let out a laugh.]
You're not gonna hurt me. [Far too many layers of meaning to that statement, aren't there.] And if you do, all the better.
[There's a fierceness to the thought that's incredibly rare in Ryan's mind, more clarity to it than the warm, pleased ones he's been sending so far-- and, ironically enough, his protest does make his nails dig into John's skin as his grip on him reflexively tightens. He leans back when he sends it, green eyes fixed on John's dark ones.
He'd never noticed they were blue before, and his intent expression softens a little at the discovery.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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--
no subject
(And really, if that much consideration isn't a sign of some interest...)]
Have you ever thought about just asking?
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
- pretty much everything by the sounds of it, by that laugh, and John doesn't even remember half of what he was thinking. His first reaction is embarrassed anger, but then Ryan's just guiding his hands into the right positions. Patient. Gentle. No expectations to be met here, no levels of readiness; he just has to be willing and Ryan will make up for the rest.
It's still unsettling, hard to trust because there must be a catch, but John lets his hands be guided. Curls his fingers lightly into the hair at the back of Ryan's neck, just the barest hint of a grip for now. Uncertainty flickers anew in his eyes when Ryan obviously tries to lead him into straddling his lap, but he shifts forward just as willingly and settles there. Slowly, as an experiment, he starts to slide the hand on Ryan's waist up and down his side.
And then it's his turn to kiss, anchored more solidly and with some idea of what he's doing. Just as he thought about earlier, he's the first to brush his tongue along Ryan's lower lip, nudging lightly before taking it between his own lips and sucking it against his teeth; no bite, just the suggestion that it could happen.
He knows how to kiss. What's the problem here? He can do this.]
no subject
Then he's kissing more firmly, licking and sucking at his lip, and for a moment Ryan completely forgets he's trying to ease him into this. He leans back just slightly, just enough so that it'll tug a little when he does.]
(just like that- harder-)
[When he leans back in it's with a firmer press against John's mouth, a nip at his lip to return the favor and show him that yes, he's into that, that's good. Ryan's arm wraps around him to pull him close, the hand at his neck practically clinging rather than simply staying settled.]
no subject
He's starting to lose himself in it. Ryan is all around him, long arms and firm grip, the scent of him (something vaguely fruity - that's not his shampoo, is it?) and the taste (also sweet, like he had dessert, John has no taste for sweets but no problem sucking that taste from Ryan's tongue) and the warmth of their bodies pressed close together; most of that warmth is his own, he knows, but he always seems to feel it reflected back against the heat of another. An idea of how flushed he feels to others.
The hand at Ryan's side, small and warm, pushes up his shirt just a little to seek out bare skin and press his fingertips eagerly into it. No pressure, no expectation. No manipulation. He wants to, so he is. It's so much easier.]
no subject
God, you're warm.
[It's an idle, almost dizzy thought. For once, Ryan isn't bleeding thoughts out of his mind like it's a sieve, projecting nothing but a soft, pleased buzz of contentment as he all but melts into John's touch, presses against him.]
no subject
[Heat, constant awareness of heat, taking in and cataloguing like a computer and occasionally tempting him so greatly that something ends up on fire. Leaking from his pores when he can't use it to his advantage, a light sheen of sweat so often on his brow. John's entire being is heat.
And right now he feels hotter than ever. It's not something he would've expected when he first met Ryan, when someone crept into his thoughts and disturbed his attempted relaxation, but the sparks began to show early and a spark is all he needs. His fingertips press even harder, just enough for a bite of fingernails, and he finally gives Ryan's hair a tug at the same time to tilt his head back so that he can kiss him more thoroughly. His body's starting to move, just the subtlest shifting but something Ryan will likely pick up on, as attuned as he must be to this situation he thought would never happen - his hips are rolling forward, the position making it so natural that he doesn't even notice.]
no subject
-d'you have any idea how much I wanted you?
[Almost rhetorical, with a dizzily lightheaded feel to it that makes it feel like it could have been an unintentional thought, if it weren't obviously meant for him to hear. He's pulling John close, breaking the kiss so he can mouth at his neck instead.]
no subject
By the time Ryan's mouth makes it to his neck, he's gone. Actually bucking into Ryan's lap, long moans necessitating a fist jammed into his mouth to keep them from carrying through the walls or out the door.
don't stop don't stop ryan right there bite suck anything don't stop]
no subject
-like that?
[His hands, meanwhile, are slipping beneath John's shirt, smoothing along his sides to mirror what he'd done to Ryan earlier; there's just a faint little graze of nails, like he'd used, but from Ryan it's a little more tentative.]
no subject
The light little touch on his sides makes him grin, though, and he gives his poor finger a break to let out a laugh.]
You're not gonna hurt me. [Far too many layers of meaning to that statement, aren't there.] And if you do, all the better.
no subject
[There's a fierceness to the thought that's incredibly rare in Ryan's mind, more clarity to it than the warm, pleased ones he's been sending so far-- and, ironically enough, his protest does make his nails dig into John's skin as his grip on him reflexively tightens. He leans back when he sends it, green eyes fixed on John's dark ones.
He'd never noticed they were blue before, and his intent expression softens a little at the discovery.]
I won't. Swear to god, John, I won't.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)