Leviticus
(Closed, Moderated)
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Summary
The gawk wore plainly across Naim’s face. He couldn’t stop it, so he simply let it be, allowing his expression to communicate his feelings for him.
“Naim?” Ryan murmured, sitting upright and converging into Naim’s space.
Naim just nodded. Ryan leaned in until the crown of his head completely blocked the moon, eclipsing Naim in his shadow. The blonde's silhouette took over his entire field of vision, erasing the rest of the world.
Ryan swallowed heavily, visibly deliberating his next move. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asked.
Or, Ryan is a dealer, and Naim is looking for a high.
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Summary
Slowly, as if it is the first time he's attempting it, Ryan smiles. Not the cocky, arrogant smile he puts up as a façade. Not the soft smile Naim knows him for, the one he reserved for their moments at the mill, for the times when the world was reduced to Ryan and Naim. No, Naim has never seen this smile on Ryan: all teeth on display, eyes half-lidded yet alert, his entire body straight as a rod, head slightly tilted towards Naim. He keeps the smile on even when Naim frowns back at him. He doesn't blink once.
Whatever walked out of the forest wasn't Ryan Whelan.
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Summary
They sit for a while in silence, Naim collapsed in Ryan’s lap while he plays with the blond curls that rest on the back of his neck. Naim wants to do something for him, wants to propose the idea. He never really asked, so Ryan’s never really said no, Naim just always noticed a pattern. Ryan is eager to please him, neglecting himself for his pleasure and usually leaving the exchange with his existing erection.
“Can I…do anything?” he stutters, it comes out sounding more like confusion than an honest question. “For you, I mean.”
or
Ryan pleases Naim, after Naim figures he should please him for a change. Ryan is vulnerable about his past, and Naim sucks him off in return.
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Summary
No place has really ever felt safe for Naim. Not Bandee, probably not even before, and not the time on the run. But now, Paris is something, a work in progress. One day, maybe it'll become a home. All that Naim has learnt during the past years is that, no matter how cliche that is, home is a person. And he's never felt truly safe and at home without Ryan.
Or, it’s a night full of celebrations for Naim and Ryan.
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Summary
Ryan Whelan is sick. Naim and him have to come to terms with their reality.
OR:
“I’m scared,” Ryan had whispered once to Naim, voice frail with labored breaths.
Truth was, so was Naim. He was terrified and didn’t know what to do. Every day it seemed Ryan got worse, and every day Naim felt more out of depth.