Luna barely noticed when they moved. One moment he was still on the paint-streaked floor, and the next, he was cradled in Ryan's arms like something precious and breakable. There was no rush, no barked orders, no rough handling. Just quiet breaths, skin on skin, and the warmth of Ryan's chest against his back.
At some point Ryan had gathered up Luna's clothes and helped him, dress. Shirt, plants and hoodie hid all signs of paint, oil and carpet burn, makingit seem as if nothing had happened at all to Luna, the entire moment a spell, a whisper, a secret daydream.
Then Ryan pulled him back to the ragged studio couch, tangled in a throw blanket that smelled like dust and turpentine. Luna's body still buzzed, a phantom heat pulsing in every place Ryan had touched. He felt… weightless. Boneless. Like he'd been hollowed out and filled with something dangerously close to comfort.
Ryan pressed a kiss to his shoulder, slow and steady.
"You don't know what you do to me," he whispered, voice gravel-soft and so gentle it hurt. "I think about you when I wake up. I think about you when I paint. You're the color in everything now."
Luna didn't respond.
Couldn't.
He felt like one wrong word might unravel him all over again.
Ryan didn't seem to mind. He ran his hand up Luna's arm, fingertips barely grazing, then down again, trailing soft heat. "I used to think I could hold it in. Be the good friend. Be the one who stays quiet while you give your smiles to people who don't deserve them."
His fingers found Luna's wrist, then his palm, lacing their hands together. "But I can't anymore. I won't."
Luna shivered. Not from cold.
From the slow, sure way Ryan was peeling back the walls inside him.
"You belong with me," Ryan murmured. "Not because I'm trying to steal you away from her. Not because I'm selfish. But because I see you. The real you. And I love you. You are everything to me"
Luna's breath caught. His heart stuttered.
Ryan kissed his knuckles. One by one. Reverent. Worshipful. "Let me keep you safe. Let me spoil you. You don't have to be strong with me. You can fall apart, and I'll be there to catch every piece."
His hand drifted down Luna's side, fingers splaying across his stomach—just resting there. Gentle. Intimate.
Luna let out a breathless sound, almost a whimper.
Ryan pressed another kiss to the nape of his neck, then one just behind his ear. Each one was a small surrender. A drip of honey on a tongue already desperate for more.
"I want to learn about…memorize every inch of you," Ryan said, barely above a whisper. "Not just your body—your moods. Your secrets. The way your voice shakes when you try not to want me."
Luna turned his head slowly, cheek brushing Ryan's jaw. "You make it… so hard not to."
A slow smile bloomed across Ryan's lips. "Good."
His hand moved again—this time sliding up Luna's chest, fingertips brushing a nipple so softly it made him gasp. "You don't have to fight it. You don't have to pretend."
Luna closed his eyes. He should've been scared. He was scared. But Ryan's touch was like gravity now—tender and relentless, pulling him closer with every soft murmur.
"You feel that?" Ryan whispered, pressing a kiss to the edge of his mouth. "It's not just lust I feel for you. It's everything…I need you to understand…your breath, your heart…you soul? All mine. You body? That's mine. You're mine."
And when Luna finally turned and kissed him back—slow, languid, open-mouthed and trembling—it wasn't resistance breaking.
It was acceptance.