It was...almost sweet, in a strange and fucked up way, that Drake was feeling protective of him. Ryah had never really had anyone to protect him before. It had fallen to him, as the eldest, to take care of Charlie, to protect his sister. Boys didn't need protecting, they were the ones who were supposed to do the protecting, after all. Ryah wondered if it was an instinctual thing. They lived together and Ryah fed Drake when he needed. Perhaps his vampiric nature just needed Ryah safe and unharmed.<br/><br/>"You going to be all right?" he asked, striving to sound casual. Even though they'd escaped the apartment, the tension wasn't dissipating. It clung to the air between them, like a heavy curtain, even as they reached Ryah's flat. Maybe it was because, now that they'd resolved the vampire issue, there was nothing in the way and the events from the club came flooding back.<br/><br/>It would have been too easy to blame the alcohol, to pretend what had happened was merely a result of being drunk. But Ryah found himself feeling more taut, the closer they got home. The fact of the matter was that he couldn't stop thinking about Drake in his arms, pliable and willing and hard. He'd been all lithe muscle and heat and coiled strength.<br/><br/>The hunter paused, key in the lock. He turned  glancing at the vampire, trying to gauge what he was feeling. "Look, about earlier..." Ryah found his eyes drawn to Drake's mouth, and he was hit with sudden the memory of that morning. Of Drake's lips wrapped around his cock, his mouth sinfully hot and wet. "Fuck it... Tell me to stop and I will," he said, voice low and rough, before shoving Drake against the door and kissing him.