farrowday | OPEN PROMPT POST

[John watches that gesture carefully - he'd kind of like to touch Ryan's hair at some point. Apparently he's got a thing for curly blonde hair.

Something odd passes across his face at that thought, almost a wince, but it's gone quickly.]

I've met three blue people. One who could change it and didn't. The other two - one was furry and one had a tail.

[It's not the most solid point given what he's already established, though, and his gaze shifts again right after he's said it.]

Then again, there were three of them. At least.

[He's had his eyes mostly averted, the way John watches him doesn't quite get caught-- but that near-wince of an expression does, even if he isn't sure what to do with it.

Or with the words, either. Ryan understands what he's saying, but taking reassurance rather than giving it is wholly unfamiliar. In the end, he decides not to try to force it, and finally lets his arm drop from the back of the couch to fold onto John's shoulder instead. Long, delicate fingers stroke tentatively over his hair, not quite running through it like he wants-- seeing how the touch is taken, first.]

...I'm okay with what I have. At least I've got something I can do with it.

[His eyes widen a little when Ryan's hand drops onto his head, then immediately close when he starts stroking his hair, a little sigh escaping through parted lips. Oh, that's nice. That's nicer than he would've expected. It's not like his heartrate can go up or his skin can prickle, but he still feels it all through his body, and it's - really nice.]

Must get lonely, though.

[Something he never would've admitted in his life - that he can understand and empathize with loneliness. It was his most constant companion, really.]

...I guess it does.

[The admission's a little hesitant, and it isn't something he'd tell any of the others-- but John comes to him, talks to him more often, keeps him company in a way most of them don't.

His touch is less tentative when John accepts it, fingers combing through his hair instead of simply running over it, and he relaxes a bit.]

Just- not all the time.

[Not now, is the implication.]

[He actually lets out a quiet murmur when Ryan's hand shifts again; he can't decide if it's relaxing or arousing, or some strange combination of both, but that feels even better. Without realizing it, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and bites down lightly on it, just drinking in the sensation of being - caressed, really.

What a strange thing not to feel until after you've died.]

Why am I here? [It's a quiet question, one he's avoided for awhile now but finally has to know.] What - makes a ghost?

[God, but that just makes him look even more attractive-

It's a thought Ryan tries to stifle, but it's true. He'd never really noticed that his mouth looks like it'd be really nice to kiss, not until John inadvertently drew attention to it... but his question pulls Ryan's focus away in a way he hadn't quite been able to do himself.

The attention doesn't stop, but it's slower, more intentionally soothing.]

I don't know.

[Apologetically, without really needing to add I'm sorry out loud.]

It's- not different for everyone, but there's different reasons. Some people want revenge on whoever, or whatever, killed them. Others have connections here that're strong enough to hold them back. They're just not done, somehow, that's... it's usually what it is.

Edited 2014-11-14 05:00 (UTC)

Unfinished business. [His mouth curls a little, unpleasantly.] My whole life is unfinished business.

[What is it? Anger at Magneto for being such a disappointment, one for whom he threw his whole life away? Bobby, for inadvertently killing him instead of doing it the honest way? All the way back to his parents, for starting him down the bitter road that led to his death? He doesn't even know.

It's certainly not a connection to someone, unless -]

I never had a strong connection. [It's so strange how their conversations can do this, draw intimate things out of him because they just don't seem to matter anymore. No one other than Ryan knows that he still exists, so what power could they hold?] Not a two-way one.

[He's wondering if that's why he's so attuned to Ryan. If it wasn't a need for something that was, that had been, but something that never was.]

...it kind of makes sense in your case, honestly.

[The hesitation never entirely left, it rarely does- but it's stronger at points, and this is one of them. Maybe it's too much of an assumption, too invasive.]

With what you've said, I mean. It sounds like-

[Ryan has to stop to take a calming breath there, because the reason they're here really is a big conclusion to draw about someone; even if it's obvious, putting it into words isn't always something they want to hear.]

It sounds like you never got to live the way you wanted. That everything kind of fell through, you weren't ever really happy with it, and- then you died early. Didn't get a chance to change that. [And then he moves on to a question, almost abruptly:] If you'd gotten to decide, would you have been ready to go? Or would you have decided to stay?

[Having his life laid out so neatly and concisely - a series of events that were never quite what he wanted - hurts. It hurts in that irritating way that isn't because it brings offense, isn't due to an insult or a deliberate attack, but because it resonates so deeply. It'd be self-pity if he said it, but someone else coming to that conclusion just hammers the point home.

There's a clear struggle with what Ryan's said, before he just decides to answer the question.]

I don't know what I'm staying for. [And his expression softens a bit here.] But it's not bad.

Edited 2014-11-14 05:39 (UTC)

[Ryan peers down at him almost worriedly-- shit, it was too much, wasn't it, he should've kept his mouth shut-- but when John finally answers, when his expression softens, he manages a tiny smile. The pad of his thumb brushes at John's cheekbone, in an affectionate gesture he just can't keep suppressed.]

...so long as you don't mind being here. Or- here, specifically. I kind of worry you're gonna get bored and leave.

[His cheek curves upward a little when it's touched, a tiny smile. That's definitely a caress, and he doesn't mind that much. Not really at all.]

Well, yeah, I am bored. Being dead is boring. But what am I gonna do anywhere else? I'll still be dead. At least here I've got living company.

-you could still have other company, though. I mean. There's always other ghosts, you're not...

[Another pause, biting his lip while he searches for the words he wants. That answer's still a little bit worrying-- if he really is bored, maybe he will want to go.]

You're not stuck here, is what I'm getting at.

Did you even hear anything I said about my life when I told you?

[His smile broadens, warms just a bit.]

I've never stayed anywhere I didn't want to be.

[That seems to soothe his nerves; he exhales a breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding, giving him a small, sheepish smile.]

...okay, point. I just don't-

[Don't want you to leave.

His fingers comb through John's hair once more, threading into it at the nape of his neck and resting there.]

You're the only one who really spends that much time with me.

They're all probably used to it by now, right? Being dead?

[He finally sits up again and turns to face Ryan, crouched on his haunches on the couch to lean in quite close.]

You don't get it. You're still alive. That's - not to trash any of my fellow ghosts out there, but that's different. You're alive and you can see me. [His turn to touch Ryan's hair, at last, toying with a curl near his temple.] You can touch me. I can touch you. I'm not just gonna give up on living people yet.

[Which makes it sound like it doesn't matter who John would've ended up with, and that's not totally true.]

And it worked out that you're actually cool, so yeah, I've got nowhere else I'm planning to go.

[His little smile stretches into something warmer, there-- John wants to be here, likes his company too, likes having some kind of living contact, and Ryan won't deny it's always good to feel... maybe not needed, exactly. He wouldn't call it that. But he can provide something no one else could.

John's touch makes him a little bolder; it's nice, having a bit of his hair played with, but he wants more now that he's finally getting the affectionate contact out of John that he's been craving since-- before they met, honestly. Ryan nudges into his hand, reaches up to pull it into place and encourage John to do more than just toy with that curl.]

...you're warm.

[It's one of those moments where his train of thought has skipped right ahead, leaving him backtracking.]

I mean... it's different with you too. You're-- you're still more alive than most, you know? You haven't let it touch you so much, it's... I forget it, sometimes. That you're not physically alive.

[At that encouraging touch, he tangles his fingers up in Ryan's hair. Strokes a thumb over his temple. This is so strange, even for him, that he can't imagine how strange it must be for Ryan. Someone who straddles the line between alive and dead in his mind, when the fact that he can see and feel and speak with the dead at all puts him at such a distance already.]

Does it matter? [It doesn't take very much encouragement to push John into becoming very bold, and just knowing that Ryan wants his touch makes him push that much harder.] I know, I'm either gonna pass on someday or stick around and be nineteen forever, but right now. Does it matter?

[He lets his eyes close with a little sigh at those fingers in his hair, breath catching for a moment when John's thumb brushes over his skin. God, that's nice.]

...no. It's never mattered.

[The answer's quiet, eyes opening up again just enough to look at him, little slivers of pale green visible beneath blond lashes.]

Never had a chance to matter before.

[He leans in even closer then, breathing softly against Ryan's mouth before kissing the corner of it. He's warm, he thinks to himself. Even in death, he burns hotter than most. And yet -]

Y'know I was nineteen and I died a virgin? [Another little kiss, just beneath Ryan's ear.] Pretty pathetic, right?

[Oh. Oh god. This is going there. His mouth quivers like he's trying to decide whether to make that a proper kiss before John starts talking again, moves along his face to kiss just above his jaw-- and oh god that's a good spot, that's a really fucking good spot.]

No-- no it's not-- I.

[Ryan's having a bit of a hard time thinking straight, managing to string his words together coherently.]

Me too. Not... not the dying part, but...

[It's still amazing, watching him respond to each movement, just as amazing as it was the first time he accidentally touched Ryan's back and saw that shiver crawl right up his spine. Someone wanting him as much as he wants them. It's addictive.

So John moves down Ryan's neck, deliberately avoiding his mouth just for now, just to draw this out as long as he can. See how intense the reactions will get.]

How old are you, Ryan? [It's absolutely a casual question and sounds like it. No intent to mock regardless of the answer.]

[Jesus take the wheel he's kissing his neck like that and still asking him things--]

I- I'm twenty-two?

[Distraction gives his voice that little uplift at the end, a good cue that his attention really is elsewhere. Ryan wants to kiss him so badly right now, to reach for his chin and tilt it up toward his own face, but he also wants to see where John is going with this. He's already got him close to squirming at the attention.

Ryan can't hold off from returning it somehow, though; he does reach for him, hands at his waist before he just wraps his arms around John like he's wanted to do since he rested his head on Ryan's lap.]

You are-- so distracting, you know that, right...

You sure about that?

[Alright, a bit of mocking, but just about that lilt in his voice. It's a little bit adorable, honestly.

When he reaches the collar of Ryan's shirt, he just drags his tongue back up to where he started, about to bite down on Ryan's earlobe when he's grabbed and pulled so close that he ends up in Ryan's lap pretty much out of necessity - anything else would twist one or both of their spines in unnatural ways.

So instead of that bite, he gets a huge, wolfish grin. Well well. Look where I've ended up.]

Sounds like we both have some catching up to do.

[The trace of John's tongue makes him shiver, leaves him clinging to his body to try to ground himself. It's so much, so fast. Only a little while ago he wouldn't have dared to admit he wanted this, and already it's gone from soothing his own insecurities to admissions of that same want to John in his lap, all warmth and wide grin.

Ryan doesn't answer aloud. They meet each other's eyes more easily like this, and his have always made him an open book; there's a little vulnerability left in his expression, but he looks at John like he just can't believe he's real, the need all too visible in wider pupils and flushed cheeks, a certain heat in that same look.

Then he finally leans in for what he's waited on, kissing John desperately with a whimper muffled against his mouth. They have catching up to do and he doesn't want to keep waiting.]

[God, he's actually really attractive. Not in any conventional way, but in a way you have to look awhile to see; the pure green of his eyes, the lean lines of his face, the messy curls. All that body, long legs and torso and arms, gangly but still strangely comforting in sheer size.

Is he attractive, though? John didn't notice right away. Is this just the feeling of getting fond of him? Either way, he likes it. He likes that awe and passion coming through in Ryan's stare, overpowering the apprehension.

And he really likes the kiss, the way his mouth is being devoured before he has a chance to register being kissed at all. Pressing in closer to Ryan, one hand settling on the couch behind him while the other cups the back of his head, he licks at Ryan's lips, the inside of his mouth. There's no keeping teeth out of a kiss with him; before long he's nipping at Ryan's lower lip, sucking hard on it before breaking off to go back to that heated kiss.

There are differences, he thinks, from how kissing felt when he was alive. But this is also very different from any kiss he ever had when he was alive, so maybe that makes sense.]

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