Ophus 14, 2718 | Evening
The Laundries
.
The door was locked and that was fine. Fionn was fine with locked doors, yes indeed, not a problem at all! It really shouldn't have been. He could see how to unlock it, it wasn't like when Ayden picked a lock closed. He wasn't trapped and besides, it was Lars. What was Lars going to do?
Snap your neck? He did say that if you ever hurt him, he'd kill you, he reminded himself, that inner voice certainly seeming smug. Of course that'd make way more sense, wouldn't it? If Lars had brought him here and pulled at his heartstrings just to get close enough to kill him without a fuss...
What the actual fuck was wrong with him? Could he be any more paranoid if he tried? He wondered if his twitchiness was apparent in this moment, the young man doing his utmost not to squirm against the wall but he was sure that there were little tics, little jumps in his muscles that spoke of the tension there, the kinetic potential.
He managed to relax a very small bit when Lars came closer, both soothed by the increased proximity and stressed by it. It wasn't because he thought that the other was going to kill him, it was just... he didn't know what was going to happen between them. That strange nervousness, the fluttering sensation within him wasn't sexual tension exactly, it wasn't desire at least not on a physical sense. It was a yearning. He wanted to be wanted, he wanted that closeness, that... he didn't even know what to call it. It was a lot deeper than what he was used to dealing with, deeper than the needs and desires that typically drove him to others for what little gratification he could gain from their attentions.
Maybe it had something to do with... what had Niamh called it? Infatuation? Oh yes, she'd enjoyed cooing comments at him about that one, further teasing out the blush that talking about Lars had produced in him. She had enjoyed it very much until he had pointed out that based on what she was saying, she clearly had one of these infatuations with Harper Moore. She hadn't been inclined to continue her gentle teasing after that, especially after Fionn's 'innocent' comment about how he could ask Moore about the subject.
But was it infatuation that made him feel a particular way when he thought of Lars? When he was near him? There had been something similar in his regard for Ayden but this was definitely purer, more... wholesome. It was probably easier if he just focused on the older man's words and didn't dwell on his face for too long - it was too easy to become lost in his features and forget how to function - then he'd be able to function without that floating feeling.
The words were definitely grounding, a distinct look of distaste flitting across the boy's face at the mention of Fred, lips pursed together as he looked away. Such a time for the other to recognise him! Gods, that was just... how the fuck had that happened?
"Oh lovely, what a perfect moment to- Well, I remembered here actually but- It doesn't matter," he explained with a shrug, not wanting to think about what he'd been doing at the time, especially as the texture of that night's recollection was... disturbing. He'd gone more than a little moony after he'd beaten up Lars and come back to the room to find him gone, only his blood remaining behind him.
That wasn't a place that he wanted to go back to ever again. He didn't want to remember any of that.
He shook his head, brown eyes flicking back up to Lars' face. "I should have remembered. It's not like many people have..." he trailed off, gaze moving down to where his companion's hands touched his own before returning to his face. "You were kind... maybe it was easier to forget that in here, yeah."
His hands were guided to the other's waist, pink creeping across his cheekbones, teeth pressing on one side of his bottom lip to try to stop the nervous smile that threatened to spread. Everything internal was... chaos. Everything in his body seemed to have gone into overdrive, the fluttering increasing, the pounding of his pulse inescapably loud and he was certain that Lars must be able to hear it.
Oh Alioe, is he- Are we- Can I-
Thinking was becoming quite difficult, every modicum of thought set adrift almost as it formed. He couldn't hold any of it. There were no words, only feelings, drowning him and yet... there was somehow enough space to breathe, impossibly so. His gaze moved over the curves and lines of the older man's face, tracing the features, drinking them in, lips parting slightly as his eyes followed the path of Lars' blush. It was considerably harder not to smirk, the young man giving up his attempt to stop it, one side turning up as he found himself unbelievably pleased. There was still nervous energy coursing though him but it was good.
This was good, very good. Excellent.
He let his hands move from the other passive's waist, sliding to the small of his back, exerting the lightest of pressure to encourage him closer, tempted to reach up and cradle his face, to get lost in the golden locks. This was fine though, he didn't want to make any moves here first, preferring to allow him to make choices here. Things had changed for Fionn anyway, he wasn't as sure of himself now, wasn't as certain about how to go about doing this sort of thing anymore. He had enough stuff warped in his head as it was so maybe it wasn't in anyone's interest to let him have control of anything.
The smile broadened a bit at the notion of imposition, head tilting slightly as he considered the other from a different perspective, almost able to look up into his face in spite of the difference in height. He shook his head subtly.
"No, not imposing," the middle Madden murmured, the smile clear in his voice. He licked his lips.
Don't. If he wants- Let him. If. Why he'd- But let him.
The choppiness of his thoughts increased briefly at the murmured admittance, a implicit question of permission hanging in the air between them that had his thoughts coalescing into something more coherent.
No one had ever asked him if- That he might not want to- It had never occurred to anyone before and it wasn't something he'd asked either. Sometimes you just knew, other times... well, you knew the answer but you did it despite knowing you'd meet reluctance, aware that the resistance would melt after a few seconds. There were plenty of times that Fionn hadn't wanted to kiss someone - and do more than that - and he'd acquiesced anyway, unwillingly, but there were also times when he'd responded violently like with Fred. His late patron's response was part of why it was easier just to do things you didn't want. He'd refused Ayden as well and that had gone badly too. But... wasn't it obvious that he wanted to kiss Lars? He thought so but... it was oddly nice to be asked.
The smile had faltered slightly in his shock, pain clouding his eyes briefly as he wondered if asking permission was a normal thing that he'd always been denied, never been informed could exist.
He let his hands drift off the other's back, breaking contact briefly as he considered, his expression thoughtful before he set one hand back in its former place, bringing the other around to fit into the space between them. The blond moved it up, setting fingers beneath Lar's chin so he could tilt his face up a little.
"Yes," he breathed just before he closed the gap between them, eyes closing as he found the other's lips with his own. He let his fingers slide down to Lars' chest, splaying over the material as he quested gently with his mouth, giving the other ample opportunity to pull back if he'd changed his mind. Tentatively, he moved to part lips with his own, in two minds about attempting to deepen things, all too aware of everything this reminded him of and trying to hold onto the difference in scent.
There was nothing wrong with this. There was nothing wrong with wanting this.