sleepytimejunction | ❧ open rp

[He truly doesn't know what to do. Whatever Adrian wants, yeah, but if that's to be alone or to be held, he truly doesn't know, and it seems as though things will break if he picks wrong. Touch him, maybe, and he'll lash out, but run away and surely he'll see it as Greed doing the same damn thing all over again.]

I know.

[It's soft. He hesitates-- and then, slowly, his fingers brush up against Adrian's arm. It's an invitation for more, but god, he won't take. Not right now.]

I missed you.

[This time, Adrian doesn't jerk away from the touch. With a shudder, he's roughly rubbing away tears, his head tipping down and not wanting to look at Greed like this.]

I missed you, too.

[And he doesn't want to admit that, but it's true. He's missed Greed, he's wanted him close and near when he needed it most. But he can never get that time back.]

[Cautiously, carefully, his touch firms. Fingers sweep over his arm, his shoulder, over his back as he steps in closer.]

Every day. Every single day . . .

[His fingers stroke lightly against the fine fabric of his shirt, smoothing it flat against his back, feeling the heat of Adrian's breath against his throat, near enough to be felt. Near enough he could gather him up, if he really wanted, but he doesn't dare, not just yet.]

Stay with me. Just for a while.

[Slowly, Adrian curls against him, like he had in the past, as if trying to get lost in his warmth. In silence, tears roll down his face, but he quivers faintly against Greed.

It's frightening, he thinks, to give so much of himself like this, but hell he wants it, he wants it bad enough it almost hurts him.]

I will.

[He's slow to wrap his arms around him. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he's so scared of taking too much too quickly and frightening him away. But as he moves and Adrian curls against him, he pulls him in closer, until at last he's curled up within the shelter of his arms, pulled up against his chest. He tips his head down, brushing his lips very gently against the top of his head.]

Hey . . . hey, hey . . .

[They're meaningless noises, more hushing and soothing than anything real, as his hand runs over his back and he stares at nothing.]

[With how cautious Greed is being is enough to settle some of Adrian's fears. He shudders, curling against his chest, letting out a strained, miserable noise, afraid and wanting.]

Touch my hair. Like you used to.

Please.

[An easy request to fulfill. Greed shifts, his fingers curling just slightly as he pushes them through Adrian's hair. It's longer, he thinks faintly-- and obviously, of course it is, he'd known that from the moment he'd seen Adrian, but it's one thing to see it and another to feel it.

Soft hair, and his fingers sliding through it as easy as anything, combing it back, hunched over just slightly as if that might help him better surround his Adrian. (And it is his Adrian, it's always been his Adrian, whether the man in question knew it or not).

He's quiet for a while. Pretends he doesn't hear those muffled sounds of grief, nor feels his chest growing a little damper. Just stands there, stroking his hair rhythmically, hoping it helps.

Eventually, his voice still pitched low:]

You wanna lie down?

[Gratefully, Greed doesn't say anything awhile and... it is rather convincing that he is being genuine in all of it. Slowly, his doubts melt away, though not all of them at once. It helps, in any case.

The fingers in his hair are no different than his memories, save for how much longer the length has become. It's comforting, it always was, and he appreciates it now.

At the question, he nods mutely.]

All right.

[Despite his idiocy, despite his stubbornness, he isn't entirely stupid. He knows, deep down, that things aren't going to be the same. No matter that this, right now, feels like old times; things aren't just as they were. They can't be. There's got to be more to it, fights and tears and harsh words, loath as he is to hear them all.

But Adrian is worth it.

Anyway. That comes later. For now: he tugs him over to his bed. Slides the sheets back, kicks off his boots; tugs the curtains around it half-closed as he climbs in next to him. It's nice and contained that way, close without being entirely claustrophobic. And yet the window is open, the summer evening air slipping in, leaving him pleasantly chilled as he gathers Adrian up again.

There's a tension in his body, because truthfully, he doesn't know what's going to happen next. He knows what he wants (Adrian, his again), but god knows how they'll get there. If they'll get there, or if after all the tears Adrian will straighten up and tell him politely that he can't do this again.

His fingers resume their stroking through his hair, and now Greed sighs, a little more obvious about how he curls back up against Adrian. He's not the only miserable one here, truthfully.]

[For his part, Adrian nudges his boots off as well, because he isn't a rude heathen. It takes some squirming, but he also pushes out of his ornate coat before he settles back against Greed. All of it is familiar like this, sans the weeping, which he isn't happy about but it was inevitable.

Hesitantly, he places his arm back around Greed's waist. He has missed this, so much, and he had wished so much that he could have fallen back onto him when the tragedy of Lisa and Dracula occurred. But there's no changing the past, and they both had their own demons to deal with metaphorically.

He's warm. Just as warm as he remembers, and he's missed it.]

[It's easy to fall into a lulled rhythm. Stroking his hair, his eyes half-closed, feeling Adrian's body slowly relax, his tears slowly abating. He could spend the rest of the night like this, he thinks, or at least the next few hours.

Eventually, his hand drifts down, moving from his hair to cup Adrian's cheek, tipping his head up. His thumb brushes over his cheek, and he smiles faintly.]

You gonna bite my nose off if I try and kiss you?

Maybe.

[It's hard not to pout a little, still feeling the grief and frustration inside. But he does miss that, too. He misses the intimacy.]

My forehead first.

You're still bossy.

[But that's as cautiously playful as Adrian's pout-- that is, he's teasing, but also not, because he knows there's still plenty of hurt there. He leans in, brushing his lips against his forehead-- and then again, a firmer kiss, lingering against the cool skin for a few seconds before pulling away.]

Better?

You deserve to be bossed around.

[The contact is gentle, tender even, more than he was expecting. But it does tell him more how genuine that Greed is being with it. Though he's a bit reluctant to let himself back into this, he does like the familiarity.]

Mm.

[He raises a hand, pressing it on the back of Greed's neck.]

Yes. Now you can kiss me.

[Another day, he'll make the obvious joke. He'll leer and flirt and grind his hips forward. But thank god, he's a little more intelligent, and he knows how to read a room. Only once Adrian pulls at him does he leans in, tipping his head to kiss him.

It's soft. He keeps his mouth closed; he doesn't bite or nip. But soft doesn't mean limp-- and Greed leans into it, his breath leaving him in a harsh exhale, his fingers sweeping through his hair, tightening to grip it and tip Adrian's head up. It's a searing kiss, heated and longing all at once. He wants more, but he'll keep it to this, just this, lingering until he finally pulls back with a soft gasp.]

[It's been a long time since he's let himself have anything like this, even physically. He's held back over the past few years, keeping himself out of reach of others. It's not been the most enjoyable time, but he'd been too concerned about being hurt again, especially after the death of his parents.

So he almost gasps at how hot Greed's mouth is. It's not anything he's forgotten, but rather an intense reminder. It's still a tender contact, soft, but not lacking passion. Adrian finds himself pressing into it, opening his mouth a fraction, sighing against him.

When Greed pulls back, he presses another light, quick kiss to his lips before settling back down, looking up at Greed with curious golden eyes.]

[God. He remembers that look. He remembers Adrian in his bed that first night, staring up at him brazenly, not in the least bit intimidated but certainly a little out of his depth. And just as he had that first night, Greed reaches for him, fingers catching his chin so he can swipe his thumb absently against his bottom lip.]

You're still pretty.

[His voice is low.]

You remember the first time I called you that? You were so offended . . .

[Possibly because everything Greed says runs the risk of sounding like an insult and not a compliment.]

[Faintly, Adrian smiles, but he does feel exhausted doing that. He doesn't pull away from Greed's touch, at least.]

You're still an asshole.

[But at least he doesn't sound like he's spitting acid at Greed now as he says it.]

It was hard to know when to take you seriously. [It still is, he tells himself. When he thought for years that Greed had tricked and mocked him, anyway.]

[His smile fades, but not much.]

I'm being serious now.

[And probably will be for the rest of the night, too leery to risk anything.]

I missed you.

[He said it before, but it bears repeating. He leans down, kissing him gently, before pulling back just far enough to bump their noses together. Fingers curling around his forearm, and he murmurs against his lips:]

Every single day.

[Adrian thinks back to the times in which he thought he knew that Greed was serious in the past. How he could read into his words. After that, he felt he couldn't believe anything from him anymore. Faeries are tricksters by nature, he'd been told once.

But he does want to believe Greed now.]

Well, you're a serious asshole.

[He mutters the words, but he doesn't refrain from hiding some of his affection in his voice.]

I missed you too, Greed. ...Even when I thought the worst of you, I wished I could have those days back again in my life.

[He scoffs out a laugh, but pulls Adrian in closer, his lips brushing absently against his forehead. His fingers slide against his body, and after a moment, he murmurs:]

I'm sorry. About your mother.

[He says it softly, purposely not meeting his eyes. Letting Adrian have the privacy to react however he wants.]

[Ah.

Adrian presses his forehead against Greed's shoulder, letting out a trembling breath. His arms wind a little tighter.]

Father had to stop her from trying to confront you. I believe her words were I'm going to shove my syringe up his ass.

[He barks out a damp laugh, tugging Adrian in closer, rolling so he lies on his back and his little dhampir is atop him. The real sign of love: he doesn't make a single leering remark over Lisa, because he loves Adrian, he really does.]

What a reason to start a war. Bet she coulda done it, too.

[The absolute fondness from Greed does make him smile more sincerely, more certainly. He settles comfortably on top, knowing that his weight means nothing to Greed.]

Oh, I've no doubt. They argued for hours until she settled down.

...She would have forgiven you, though. So long as I did first.

[He can well imagine it. Dracula, just as furious but more aware of the intricacies of court; Lisa, impassioned for her son, desperate to protect him and hurt anyone who dared to hurt him. She absolutely would have destroyed him, he thinks fondly, never mind he's a prince of a faerie court.]

And have you?

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