2019-07-14 - Once More With Feelings

It's been kind of a weird week. Not... terrible. It was pretty normal the first couple days after waffles, and then Aidan was just... gone, for most of the day. Longer than usual, and without the random texts Baylee gets most days. He's quiet when he gets home and not particularly inclined to talk about... much of anything, really, though if she's up for cuddling and watching dumb TV a while, he'll gradually relax properly against her. He's still not quite himself the next couple days; she might catch him muttering things apparently to himself more than usual, or shooting quick, sharp glances at nothing obvious, but, well, he does that sometimes, and he's being reasonably Aidanish, if a quieter and less gregarious version.

Yesterday, though. Yesterday he seemed entirely himself again, and excited about going to the cooking class he found, and then excited about sharing the chicken parmagiana he'd made there. And this evening, he's got cheerful, upbeat music playing as loud as his phone will cooperate, singing along while he chops up some vegetables. The place smells pleasantly of chicken, and as yet, not like he's burnt it. There's a pot of something probably-boiling on the stove.

He's found an apron somewhere; it's navy, with a pattern of scattered pineapples, and yellow fabric for the ties at the neck and around the waist, as well as trimming the bottom. And a yellow pocket on one side. He's currently wearing it with jeans, and nothing else. Not even shoes, so he must be pretty confident he got all those glass splinters dealt with. It's probably pure coincidence that he's currently declaring to the world that he is in fact too sexy for his shirt, too sexy for his shirt. Badly. Look, Right Said Fred never said anything about their aprons.

Weird is probably an understatement. Keenly aware of the fact that some of this might have been her fault, even if it was honestly unintentional, Baylee has been the very best girlfriend she knows how to be. She's been there, but hasn't pushed at him, or tried to get answers as to why things are weird. It hasn't been easy, especially while she's been doing her best to not crawl into a bottle and live there.

So when he returned to a more typical Aidan some tension was released, and she embraced this Chef Aidan with gusto. It's hard to remain out of the way while he's been in the kitchen, but she's managed to keep herself from being underfoot. There's been frequent steps outside to smoke, which is somewhat strange considering there is often smoking inside. But maybe the delicious smell of the food has driven her outside to smoke so that she's not risking tampering with that smell.

But now? Now she can't keep herself out from under foot any longer, and she's easing into the kitchen, her hands in her pockets, "Anything I can help you with?"

Aidan is generally in favour of being embraced with gusto! It is first very important to inform her that he shakes his little tush on the catwalk, with demonstration -- both of which, thankfully, are a lot more passable than the shirt-singing portion -- and then to try to steal a kiss. "If you want, you can mash up the potatoes," he says, glancing at the pot on the stove, "...hold on." The knife was, thankfully, put down before he kissed her; now he picks up a fork and takes the lid off the pot as though he's just a little worried something might jump out of it. Nothing does. This time.

"We're supposed to poke one with a fork to see if they're soft now," he explains, attempting to do so. It takes three tries to actually catch one against the side to get some purchase, but the fork comes up with a potato chunk on it and he brandishes it triumphantly. "And I found a thing at the thrift store they said was a potato masher. You know I still don't mind if you smoke in here, right? Though, it's nice out." Which is a good reason to be outside. "Which reminds me, we should get one of those kiddie pools, I bet we could fit one on the porch." Well, maybe. They could probably just put a more satisfyingly sized one out on the ground, though.

The kiss is accepted, and she's careful to stay out of the way of him and the boiling pot of water. Honestly, he might be afraid that something is going to leap out at him, she's worried that something might knock it off the stove. "You want me to mash the potatoes?" The look on her face is slightly incredulous, then worried, then uncertain, "Aidan...I've never cooked anything in my life. I don't know that would be proper mash or not."

Not that she's not going to do it. Of course she's going to do it. But she's going to look like she doesn't want to for a hot minute before her shoulders slump a moment, "Alright, how do I mash these potatoes then?" She reaches up, twisting her hair up and sliding a hair band from her wrist so that she can pull it back into a ponytail. "Where is this masher?" While she's looking around for what a masher might look like she pauses, "And lounge with our feet in the water?"

Aidan probably should be worried that something's going to knock it off the stove, frankly. But so far, the ghost's never messed with something as big as a pot. Though Aidan has had to catch a couple things today before they fell, it seems to have subsided for now. He stares at the pot a moment, brow furrowing. "...okay, first we have to get the water out of that without losing the potatoes." A challenge. Okay, step one, potholders, take it to the sink. "We need the big bowl, and that weird looking thing there. The one with the handle and the squiggly end that kinda looks like a metal worm." There aren't that many options for that. "And... butter and milk." He studies the pot a moment more, then uses one pot holder to hold and tip it, and the other to keep the lid on but make a small space. Water comes out and potatoes don't! He looks kind of pleased with himself, honestly. "I was thinking more just lounging in it, like with lemonade or something. But feet'd be good too."

When he starts listing off things that he needs Baylee stands there, looking lost for a moment before she nods, "Right." There is clear determination on her face as she gets out the two things she knows where it is. Milk and butter. Those get set on the counter before she starts to grab the bowl and masher, holding up the latter at him to double check. There might not be many choices, but she's clueless in the kitchen. Seriously clueless. "Alright, so now what?" She is now armed with an empty bowl and a masher, waiting for something to mash. "Are you going to be cooking every night now?"

"That," Aidan confirms with a nod when she holds up the masher, and he rights the pot, taking off the lid to see how that went. Okay, not a lot of water left; it'll do. He comes over and carefully dumps them out of the pot into the bowl. "Probably not? Sometimes I kinda just wanna eat Hot Pockets or something. But it's kind of cool making, like, real food."

He sets the pot back in the sink, and stares at the bowl a moment, while his phone declares that it's sexy and it knows it. It's got a theme right now, apparently. It also gets scooped up and poked at, which doesn't affect the music, but does result in, "Okay so... we need a tablespoon of butter and a cup of milk. I think the butter's got markings on the wrapper, so you can cut it where it says one tbsp," which he says like it's a word, "and drop that part in. And..." Phone down, and he brandishes a measuring cup, which gets milk poured in. No one's explained you're supposed to have different kinds, so it's the '1 cup' kind for flour and stuff, and of course it overflows a bit. Eh. Close enough! "And then you just kinda... smash it with the wiggly part. Until it's done. I think." He has not done this before either. He's just trusting what he read. "Also maybe we add some salt." Everything seems to want salt added.

"Tablespoon?" Baylee sighs, shaking her head as she looks upwards towards the sky, then she launches herself into motion, reaching for a butter knife to cut the butter with. Once everything is in the bowl, including the salt that evidently has to be added, she reaches for the masher again, brandishing it like it is a weapon and she's about to bludgeon the potatoes with it.

Mostly she doesn't, but she's a whole lot messier about it than she probably should be. But it works, the potatoes to get mashed, and even though they are lumpy, everything seems to be mostly well blended. Then she leaves the masher sticking up straight in the bowl, "Aidan...everything is alright, isn't it?"

"Apparently there's tablespoons and teaspoons, and the table ones are bigger, and neither of them are the spoons you actually put on the table. Or stir tea with." It's weird.

Baylee's mashing is apparently entirely suitable from Aidan's perspective, given that he looks faintly proud of her. The veggies he's cutting up end up in just a soup bowl, if a biggish one. They don't need THAT much salad. And the buzzer's just gone off and resulted in a pan of chicken thighs getting pulled out of the oven and set down on the stove, when she gets to that question.

He pauses a moment, looking at the chicken, and then over to her. "...mostly?" he says, and hesitates another second before suddenly asking, "The stuff I can do. Like, the fire and healing things and talking in people's heads and that kind of thing. It's not-- super weird for you, is it? Or scary, or... I don't know. Anything like that." Probably not what she had in mind, but it's the thing that comes out first.

That was not at all what she was expecting. And it shows by the surprised look on her face, "Aidan..." The bowl with the potatoes is set to the side, and she wipes her hands off on her jeans before she moves towards him, hands lifting up to catch his face. It's probably a little more risky than usual, considering the proximity of the oven, and the hot things that just came out of it. "It's really fucking weird, Aidan. But I'm not scared about it, and I'm not scared about you."

There is a slow shake of her head before she leans towards him, trying to catch his mouth for a quick kiss, "Please...please, I don't even know..but you don't have to worry about that. Not with me. Not when I've got my own little side-arm of magical powers or whatever."

It is a bit of a risk, considering those things, but this time they're lucky. The worst that happens is that she might end up with a little more grease on her jeans, since he's still holding the towel he used to move the pan when his hands find her hips. He watches her with more worry than he'd probably prefer to be when she starts to reply, and there's a slight tension when she starts with it indeed being fucking weird, but-- well, the rest helps, words and kiss both. "I'm not dangerous or anything," he says, which is a) demonstrably not true, ask that dead actor, and b) not usually a very reassuring thing to hear someone say. But presumably she knows what he means. There's a faintly plaintive note in there. Even so, he's at least relaxed a little from where the question began.

Grease can be washed out. Right?

"I know that you'd never hurt me." Because that is what he really means, isn't it? It's what she means, at least. He's dangerous, but she knows that she stands on the right side of that dangerousness. She gives him another kiss, her hands sliding into his hair, fingers combing it back from his face before she steps in closer to him. The third kiss is given to him is longer, slower, and she tries her very best to convey every thought and emotion that she can with that kiss.

But eventually, even it has to break, and when it does she leans her forehead against his, her hands remain in his hair as she sighs faintly, "Is that what was bothering you?" She doesn't sound like she disbelieves it was what was bothering him, just that she wouldn't have guessed it. "Please don't ever let that worry you again, I meant what I said the other night. I love you, and you're my home."

It's what he means. And it's the right answer, apparently, because the kiss is returned with equivalent emotion, and some of it is gratitude. When it does finally break, her sigh's joined by one from him, simultaneous rather than cued by, and he lets his eyes close again as they settling in like that. "Thank you," he says, softly. "That's what... in my dream? They said you, all my friends, all the people I know." A tiny pause, something else niggling at his mind, but not hard enough to derail what he was saying. "...will fear me. And kill me. Because I'm-- good at it, I guess. And because of my failings?"

He gnaws his bottom lip a moment. "They said strength'd be needed and they wanted to see me grow. I think probably I don't want to grow how they want me to." His arms slide a little farther around her, drawing her in closer against him. "I meant it also. I love you too. And I know you wouldn't hurt me, but sometimes it's-- I wasn't so sure about the rest of the world. The other day." More detail on that is only going to make things more awkward, experience is pretty firm on that point, so that's where he leaves that. "...and, yeah. That's why I was kinda," let's face it, "weird. Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"I'm certainly not going to kill you." Baylee points out, and her voice is firm on that, her hold on him tightening reflexively, like she's worried that just her words alone are not going to be enough to reassure him. "Everything we've been through, nothing that happens is going to change how I feel." So many things could change how she feels, realistically. But the heady rush of feelings and things it doesn't seem possible to her that she could ever feel differently about him.

Those minefields though? Sometimes she's not as good about avoiding them, even when he seems to have neatly dodged it. "What other day?" See? That's her putting her foot right down on it. "Aidan, you remember the ginger bitch and her funny looks, and how I decided I was going to kick her ass?" She clearly did not win that fight, though. "It doesn't matter if the rest of the world tries to hurt you. We'll hit them back together."

She did not win that fight. But if it'd turned into a genuine two-on-two fight to the risk-of-death... well, maybe that would've changed. It's thought enough to support her example, at least, not to mention the simple reminder of her going over to ask WTF in his defense, and Aidan smiles, just a little bit. "I remember, yeah." It fades. "And that asshole with her. They're the only ones they mentioned I thought wanting to kill me sounded maybe right." Whole dream thing is still unsettling, even if it's less so after her assurances. "Glad we don't keep running into them. But. You're right. If something comes after one of us it's gonna hafta deal with both of us." And there's no kindas about that.

He steals another kiss like punctuation, shorter than the last but fairly emphatic on its own. "...and I meant the other day when I kinda disappeared, mostly," he answers, managing to dance past the mines again, then totally spoils his display of accidental dexterity by going on. "But I guess really, since I woke up from that. I kept... the dream stuff keeps sneaking into my head when I'm talking to people, like, Lex not going with us for waffles, for a second there was this little voice whispering maybe they're right and that's the real reason why." Dammit, Aidan.

"I doubt that was the reason Lex didn't go with us." Baylee points out before she brushes her nose against his, then she tilts her head until she can rest it on his shoulder, "I'm pretty sure that she keeps thinking that you were wrong that it was okay to sleep with her. She kept telling me that we needed to have some kind of talk, if it wasn't okay. Which, is annoying...because we both said it was fine." Right, fine. Ignore the fact that she was almost as weird at points.

"But I don't think it has anything to do with the dream, or what those fuckers in that dream were telling you." She slides her hand into his hair once more, then frowns, "Whatever they said in that dream, it wasn't right. No one hates you, and no one is scared of you that shouldn't be scared of you, and no one is going to come kill you because I won't let them."

There's an unusually small and crooked smile just before the nose-brushing; it spreads a little at that, and once her head's rested again, Aidan tilts his head to nuzzle at her hair a little. "I mean... yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. On what it did and didn't have to do with. And mostly I know you're right about the rest, too. Like. Most of me knows. So if," he considers briefly. "If the other part latches onto something, I'll try and come talk to you about it? Then you can tell me the main part's right. Or we can go deal with it if it's not. Plan?"

He's quiet for a breath or two before biting that other bullet. "I know we both said it was fine, and I thought it was? But it kinda seemed like maybe it wasn't totally. And I dunno if it was just things getting kinda awkward 'cause she was getting that impression but... I dunno. Is everything fine? 'cause I mean. I'm not gonna freak out if something's bugging you or anything."

"Plan." It's as simple as that. No reason to say anything more about it. Especially when he bites that other bullet.

He's not going to freak out. Is he? Baylee's quiet for a little while before she nods, "Everything is fine." The hand in his hair slides down to his neck, giving the back of his neck a light squeeze before she straightens up a little, "I meant what I said, about not being mad about it. We're both...Well, I got fucked up and fucked up. You I guess did it because you just wanted to. It's fine, though. You're going to always come back to me, right?" There seems to be an faint emphasis on it, a quiet need for the right answer to be given. But before he can do that she goes on, "What bugged me more was... I guess that I told you right after it happened, and you hadn't told me. But that's unfair, you never had to tell me at all. But her weirdness? I don't know. She's skittish, and I guess I misunderstood some shit she was saying, which didn't help me feel less uncomfortable."

Aidan does not freak out. He looks nervous, mind, and she can feel some tension there, particularly as it takes a while for her to get to that nod, but he doesn't freak out. Or interrupt! When she's done, one thing he's able to answer instantly: "I'm always gonna come back to you." It's nice and definite, no hedging, and it comes along with a tightening of his arms. "You're my home, too." Then he's quiet a little himself, thinking things over.

"I'm sorry," is what breaks that silence, though it's quiet itself. "I guess I should've said right away, I just-- I didn't know if you wanted to know, and couldn't figure out how to ask without basically telling you, which'd suck if the answer was 'no I don't want to'. But I think I chose wrong. I didn't mean to actually hide anything from you or anything. And now I know you do, so, it wouldn't happen again." Another little pause. "Is it less okay if we just kinda want to than if we're fucked up?" As usual, it's a genuine question, though there's a different kind of uncertainty in this one as well, like maybe the idea doesn't sit quite right with him. The issue of Lex will need to wait.

Is it less okay if we just kinda want to than if we're fucked up? That question is another one of those that seems to get a whole lot of thought from Baylee, like she's not really certain where her feelings land with it. Some surprising emotions get tangled up, tripped over, kicked around, but eventually what comes out is an almost uncertain, "No?" Like, she might be feeling her way through this one. "I hadn't really thought before there was a difference, because..." Because what? They hadn't said there was a difference before? She didn't think about there being a difference before? But that, in addition to the speed of telling, is the fundamental difference between the situations, right? "It shouldn't matter, so no. No, I guess it's not less okay."

I guess. Most reassuring words in the entire world, right there. "Does it make a difference to you?"

Sure, 'I guess' is always totally reassuring. Aidan is less iffy, with a simple "No," though he does pause to consider for a breath or two and then amend, "I guess I might worry more about the fucked up. Like whether you really wanted to or someone was taking advantage or something. If you were okay. I've--" He pauses, tilting his head a moment, more in thought than actively 'away', though it does create a little more space between their heads a moment. "I mean, I have bad feelings about a lot less shit I've done when I just kinda wanted to than when I-- kinda wasn't in control of myself right," is what he ends up with, an awkward sentence about an awkward set of circumstances.

He turns his head back toward hers again, hand absently rubbing over her back. "Plus... if it was I'd kinda feel like if I ended up fucked up around anyone I thought was hot maybe I was, like, subconsciously making it more okay if something happened? 'cause I wanna think my brain's better than that, but it's not like it doesn't ever do some messed up shit behind my back." Get influenced by Dream-based paranoia, for example. And that may not even be the one he has in mind. "So basically it's the same to me. If everyone's okay I'm okay."

"Okay." Baylee replies with a nod, because everyone is okay. Everything is okay. She looks up at him, studying his face for a moment before she nods, leaning in to give him another kiss before she smiles, a little bit of tension starting to leave her as she begins to reluctantly pull away from him, "Everything is okay."

It's a nice thing to hold onto, especially when there are things like Dream-based paranoia that is hanging there, fucking everything up. It's not like they need help overly complicating their lives, after all. "That's all the stuff that was bothering you over the past couple days?" She twists a strand of his hair around her finger before she lets the hand drop to his shoulder, then she looks down at the apron, and the lack of shirt, "I hear that cooking naked can be problematic....smart to wear this adorable apron to keep everything safe."

'Everything is okay' is a lovely thing to hold on to. Not that it's ever quite true. But close is good? Aidan is easily kissed, and slightly less easily pulled away from; he lets her pull back, but his hands stay resting against her hips once she has. "Hey, I'm not naked. I'm wearing jeans. That covers everything important, right?" he says, grinning, and glances down at the mentioned apron. "It is pretty great, isn't it? There were a couple others at the thrift store, but they were kinda boring. Plus. Pineapples."

He hesitates for a moment, glancing at the food, but-- well, it's not like it's been waiting long. It can deal with another couple minutes, probably. "It's pretty much all the stuff. Um. I'm not totally sure if we're done talking about the other thing, though. Like... okay, we're okay on whys. But what if I wanted to mess around with Lex some time again, would that be a problem? Or if one of us started a kinda ongoing thing with someone? 'cause, there's some ways I'd be okay with that, and other ways it might bug me. I guess it's not about it itself exactly but like... if you were spending a lot of nights other places, I'd miss you. I'd maybe start feeling neglected or something. But, I mean, I think I'd feel that way if you were doing it 'cause you and whoever got super into silent movies and were just doing all night watchathons without me all the time too?" The look he's giving her at this point has a definite 'am I making any sense right now?' quality to it.

And those are some heavy questions, and some heavy thoughts, and Baylee actually stops and blinks at him. "Oh."

Just an oh. It's a hard shift for her to make, from thinking everything that needed to be said has been said, and everyone is happy and moving on. To...well, not. "Okay..." She isn't saying it is okay, and that is very clear by her face as she stares at him. "I'd be kind of bugged by that, too. If you and someone else went and got super into silent movies without me." She lifts her hands up, heels rubbing against her forehead as a rather sudden headache seems to come on her. All that tension is right back, and she almost, almost looks like she is panicking a little. "I don't know." It's almost painful to admit, and that shows on her face as she drops her hands to her sides.

"I don't want to say it's not okay, or that like...it's a problem. But I don't want to...not say, either. Just like if you're off watching silent movies with someone, it's going to bug me." No one is meaning actual silent movies, are they? "Would you be fine if I took off one night and you were sitting around here alone?"

Aidan lifts a hand to stroke her head, as though he could soothe the headache-looking feeling away. "One night? Like, one night, once in a while, and I knew you weren't just-- missing?" Sometimes having a more settled vocabulary for all this Glimmer stuff would help. "That you weren't unhappy or in trouble but just off doing something fun? Probably, yeah. Unless I really needed you then, and, I mean... then I'd tell you. And I kinda think you'd probably pause the movie and come home, if I did. If it was happening a lot? Then it'd prolly bug me. 'cause like I said. I'd miss you. And feel left out and stuff."

His fingers have stayed with her hair, and they're sliding through it a little now, petting. "Mostly? I want to come home to you. Or I guess the other way depending who's home first. And go to sleep with you, and wake up with you there. And I mean maybe some night you'd have to go do a stake-out or whatever and I couldn't come with, or you'd, I dunno, hang out really late talking with Bennie or something? But, yeah. I'm not asking stuff 'cause I'm, like, making plans or anything. It's just. If it'd bug me if you disappeared for a week or I didn't know if something happened with someone or-- or we were hanging out with someone you messed around with sometimes and you were kinda all over them and it was like I wasn't there, which, yeah, those'd all bug me, it'd kinda help if you knew that. 'cause they'd all make me feel like I didn't matter to you how I want to." There's a tiny, almost helpless shrug. "If things aren't okay it's prolly better to say. 'cause I also don't wanna make you feel like you don't matter to me how you do."

All over each other. Baylee watches him for a little while, "Like holding hands?" It's probably not meant to be mean, she doesn't even say it mean. In fact, it's asked very quietly, like she's a bit uncertain that she's ready to give the question voice.

"I guess that it's fine if it happens once in a while." Baylee shrugs her shoulders a bit, "I didn't like it, though. The other morning, I didn't like it. And I realized that I've got no right to not like it. We made an agreement, were on the same page. We knew that shit might happen. But I didn't like it." She leans in towards him, resting her forehead against his, "It'll be fine, though. Just got to...get used to it, that's all."

Aidan shakes his head. "Like sitting in their lap and kissing on their neck and acting like I'm not there," he says, the example coming easily enough to suggest there's probably at least one specific event behind it. "I mean, honestly I'd rather you were sitting on my lap? Or, like, draped across both. But if I was getting kisses and attention and stuff too, I'd be a lot more okay than if it's like I'm just some random dude who might not even be in the room." A pause. "I'm sorry, though. I guess I was kinda basing stuff on what'd bug me. And holding hands wouldn't, 'specially when it's with me too. Or, like. Small kisses? Like if you kiss a friend on the cheek or forehead or something I'm not gonna blink." Though he does close his eyes a moment, forehead staying touched to hers. "I guess. The question's what you didn't like, kinda? 'cause I don't wanna do stuff that's gonna make you unhappy and just be like, well, get over it. But, like. For me I know feeling ignored's a thing. Especially if it starts feeling like they like the other person better. It doesn't really bug me if you wanna kiss someone else, it'd just start to if it felt like you wanted to more than or instead of kissing me. Things where it's like I don't really matter. 'cause. I've kind of not really mattered a lot?" He almost manages to make that sound matter-of-fact. Almost.

"You matter." Because that is the important take-away from all this for her, that need to matter, to not be ignored. She lifts her hands up, sliding her hands against his cheeks, over his jaw, and then to his neck as she considers the rest of what she has to say, "Holding her hand bothered me." She decides after a moment, "It's stupid. But it bothered me. Like, hand holding is...more intimate and special to me than just flopping across someones lap. Or kissing a friend on the cheek. I guess it'd be different if it was all of us." And she doesn't mean all of them holding hands, either. "But it's fine. If you want to hold her hand it's fine....I can deal with it."

After a moment she curls her arms around his neck, leaning in against him, shifting her forehead off his and instead moving it to his neck, "I don't want to be ignored either, and I don't want to make you feel ignored. You'll always be number one."

That first assurance gets a very small smile, the sort that isn't entirely certain it's in the right place and keeps checking the address it wrote down and looking around for house numbers. It doesn't stick around that long, either, sneaking off while Baylee's considering things. Aidan watches her closely, the way her features shift a little when she thinks and speaks, and there's a very small nod when she explains.

"I don't want to make you feel ignored, either. You're my number one too," he says, then makes a face. "I should've said also, that sounded like Sesame Street starting a counting thing or something. But. Yeah. So... I dunno how to break that down exactly, but. I can just... not hold hands with other people? I mean, I guess unless I have to keep track of them in a dark place or haul them out of somewhere or whatever," which would be a lot more theoretical outside of somewhere like Gray Harbor, "but, just for walking around or standing somewhere, that kind?" A slight pause. "Would it be a thing if I, like, put an arm around someone's shoulders?" He's fairly tactile. It's possibly a good thing to check on. "...if we ever end up having a thing be all of us, I mean, you and me and whoever? I guess we'd have to figure that kinda thing out then. But for now, I mean, if that specifically is a thing, I can just... not."

"I don't want you to not be you, Aidan." Baylee points out, idly toying with a strand of his hair, curling it around her finger, "I don't want you to constantly have to stop yourself from doing something that makes you happy...because then you'd become not happy, and that would make me not happy." She turns her head to kiss his neck, sighing faintly, "So if you want to hold someone's hand, hold their hand. Or put your arm around their shoulders. Seriously, if I'm feeling ignored I'll just make sure that you pay attention to me instead."

Which, how she'll do that might be a very great way, or a very bad way. Baylee probably means by doing it in a great way though. "So, we're fine. And I guess if you wanted to fool around with Lex again sometime that's fine. Although I'm not sure she's as on board with the open relationship thing as the rest of us." Which says something.

Aidan wraps his arms more closely around Baylee's waist again, drawing her in a little more again. "Definitely make sure. I don't want you to feel that way 'cause of me. You being happy makes me happy too. So-- I'm kinda gonna try to not do it, anyway. And yeah. We're fine." He turns his head to nuzzle against her hair again, and there's a small, fairly contented sigh. "And I dunno. I guess I'd have to ask. But right now mostly I want to eat this dinner 'cause it smells fucking amazing, how did we do that? And go curl up with you on the couch." A pause. "And maybe make out a little. You smell pretty amazing too."

"Did you want to make out before or after dinner?" Baylee wonders, turning to catch his mouth for a kiss. It's not exactly making out, but it is probably a really good promise of what kind of making out might be in store for him, eventually. She slides her fingers into his hair, then down to his neck before she starts to pull away from him, this time firmly. Even going so far as to remove his hands if she needs to. But only so that she can go and get the plates so that they can do the eating part of their evening, "It does smell really good though. I'm not sure how you did it, but you did....and it's going to be amazing."

"Yes." It's all Aidan can get out before the kiss, but hey, it's really all he had to say. Definitely all he had to say that can't also be conveyed through the medium of kiss, one hand finding its way under the hems of her shirts and up a bit along her back before she breaks the kiss and pulls away. Firmly!

He makes a small, wordless sound of complaint, but lets her go, watching her a moment before he turns his attention to checking the food more closely. It really does look like it came out right! Doesn't hurt that his web search probably involved something like 'simple' or 'easy' or 'stuff I can't fuck up'. "Recipes and luck," he says, "...I'm pretty sure. But if that's what's gonna work, I'll take it."