The touch, the smile, it wasn't what Atticus wanted. It wasn't rough or hard or painful. He wanted those things, wanted them to make the words murmured to him easier to ignore, take them as lovers lies, harmless, teasing falsehoods. The softness, the warmth... was Master Ryan telling the truth?<br/><br/><em>"Say those words again, Louis, when not aching. I'd like to hear those words come from the</em>heart<em>..."</em><br/><br/>He blinked. Had he mis-stepped again? He was in a maze of fire and he was blind. Master Ryan didn't sound annoyed, but Atticus had still said, done, the wrong thing.<em>Say those words when not aching... from the heart... </em>Not now. He shut his eyes and caught Master Ryan's hand with his own, turning his head and pressing his lips to the man's palm, a voiceless apology for his confusion, his lust, and that he understood, at least, the Master Ryan wanted to be wanted, too. Not just for sex.<br/><br/>He opened his eyes, and twisted his head straight so he wasn't muffled as he said in a still tense but darkly amused tone, "You're a fucking tease."