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He follows quite willingly, winding an arm around Rowan's waist in turn.

The sketches on the wall catch his attention first, and he looks at the nearest with some interest. "Did you do these?"

Rowan easily leans into Edgar’s hold, happy for any affection. They close the door behind them, then follow his gaze to the sketches. “Yeah. It’s been so long since I saw everyone from home I figured I’d better do something to make sure I didn’t forget their faces.”

The sketches aren’t bad - certainly not professional, but there’s enough detail to give them life, and the people pictured can be recognised from sketch to sketch. They’re mostly of a group of adults about Rowan’s age, with one child; sometimes showing a scowling woman, sometimes an awkward looking young man. The others show what could be a family group comprised of three older women and two teens. “That’s me Mums and the kids.” Rowan explains, pointing at the family group. “And the others are my mates, the ones I live with back home.” Pack.

Edgar studies the portraits with ... reverence is probably too strong a word, but definitely with respect.

"There was a guy in the Tail who did pictures like this," he says after a moment. "Painter. To keep records. Like you said, so people wouldn't forget."

"Oh yeah? That ain't a bad idea, given that people disappear here. There's better artists than me here, though. Guess you didn't have cameras and printers, huh?" They don't actually sound too surprised about that, as they wind their other arm around him, leaning against him as they turn away from the pictures.

"What I really want is my phone back. I got proper pictures there, videos too. I'll show you when I got it."

"Love to see that," he agrees, willing to leave behind the subject of Painter and his chronicles. "Heard about those phones. Never saw one though."

And oh, Rowan seems to be in his arms now? However did that happen?

Edgar'd better get used to having Rowan cuddles, once they start, they don't stop.

"Well, when I get it, you'll be the first to see." They promise, easily. "I want to show you Revvie, she's so cute." There's a pause, and then a chuckle. "No, I want to show everyone Revvie, but that includes you.

But that'll have to wait for another time." Rowan lifts their head, smiling at Edgar, close to him. "Do you want a drink, or just to pick up where we left off yesterday?"

Oh, he doesn't mind. And he's quick to take advantage of the closeness, wrapping an arm around them in turn.

And there's a good question: a drink, or pick up where they left off?

"All these hard choices," Edgar complains, smiling back as he leans in to kiss them.

Rowan chuckles, but this one is cut off by the kiss. Not that they mind too much, shifting to take advantage of their closeness and tilting their head to deepen it. One hand shifts, wrapping around his shoulders to cling to him. Honestly, this is as good an answer as any.

He's got both arms around Rowan by now, sliding one hand up into their hair as the kiss deepens.

A small nagging unease is in his head, urging him say something now before things go any further.

Funnily enough, Rowan's thinking something similar, but they can't bring themself to break the kiss for it. As though to make up for it, they deepen the kiss further, tongue lapping over Edgar's lips.

Eventually, though, they have to come up for air. They stay close, licking their lips and glancing up at him with eyes that are already starting to dark with need. But before that... the familiar flicker of anxiety curls up in their stomach, as they trace their fingers over Edgar's ear gently. "So, this might sound weird, but are you into men or women or both?"

"Ah thank Christ," he groans in undisguised relief, tipping his head back, "I couldn't figure out how the fuck I was gonna bring it up."

His grin is decidedly sheepish, when he looks back down at Rowan. "Sorry. Both? And like, I didn't want to ask, still won't if you'd rather I didn't, but ..."

Oh. Oh. It makes such a nice change to meet someone here who has some understanding of their problem. Rowan's anxiety drops away immediately, their own relief flooding their features. "Don't apologise. Do you know how nice it is to not have to explain everything from scratch?"

Gently, they tug him over to the bed, sitting down and leaving a space for Edgar to sit down next to him. "I dunno what or how much you know, but I'm agender. Non-binary; neither gender, and I don't got a standard set up neither. It's up to you if you want me to tell you want to expect, or to let you find out for yourself."

He sits down in the offered space, keeping his hand in Rowan's.

"Neither gender," he repeats, brow furrowing a little; puzzled, but not put off. "So ... not a boy or a girl, like? Never met anybody who wasn't either one, I don't think."

For a moment he looks down, and studies their joined hands. "Think maybe ... maybe I'd rather know what to expect. If you're okay with tellin me."

"Neither, and not in between neither. Something else entirely." Rowan confirms, patiently. They've dealt with this, they can deal with it again. Besides, Edgar's painfully sweet about it all, and that's all they really ask for. He's doing his best to find the right words and thinking before he speaks, and it makes Rowan want to kiss him again.

So they do, this time brushing their lips over the corner of his; a softer touch than before. "Wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to say." Anyway, hopefully Edgar will still want to find out for himself after this. "I got a pussy like a woman, but the rest of me is more like a man." They twist their free hand, indicating sort of. "Mostly. It's a bit more complicated than that, but the biggest difference is that I don't get wet like a woman does, and that I'm shallower and smaller down there."

He nods, considering, chewing his lower lip.

"So I guess," he says slowly, "if we do anything around there, you're gonna have to tell me what feels good for you? Like I was new at this."

A sudden bright grin. "Which, guess I am new at this."

Rowan chuckles at that bright grin, returning one of their own as they reach out to run their fingers through his hair lazily. "I tend to be pretty fucking vocal, don't worry." Between being unwilling and unafraid to speak up when something isn't working for them (or is) and just in general being loud, they can generally get the message across.

"And it ain't that different. Nothing is unrecognisable. It ain't that different to figuring out anyone new, so I'll be working out what makes you tick at the same time."

"Well." His grin softens into something sweeter, gentler, still bright. "Think we could probably make that work then."

He turns his head to drop a quick kiss on the wrist of the hand that's playing with his hair.

“I hope so.” Rowan agrees, quickly, smiling at that kiss. Treating them with such sweetness is a surefire way to their heart. They’re still getting used to dealing with anything more than picking up with someone at a club and heading home with them for a one off. Getting to know people first, and any sort of tenderness, still feels strange, dangerous and forbidden.

But what else can they do here? They can’t disappear into the crowd like they can at home, and they enjoy Edgar’s company. Why not enjoy it a little more?

“Let’s see where this leads us, then?” They offer, before leaning in for an encouraging kiss.

He meets them halfway, bringing one hand up to lightly cup their cheek.

And he'll maybe try to shift a little closer on the bed, just enough so that his hip and leg are brushing against theirs.

Rowan doesn't need any encouragement to curl in closer, pressing their leg against Edgar's. Their hand cups his head, fingers lazily playing with his hair as they lap at his lips, seeking to deepen the kiss.

His eyes half-close at the feel of Rowan's fingers in his hair, and he makes a small contented noise against their mouth even as he opens his, entirely willing to let the kiss deepen.

(A small part of his mind is marveling at how different it feels, having someone play with his hair when his hair's been washed.)

Eagerly taking in the invitation, Rowan invades Edgar's mouth, exploring once again. It's good to be this closer and exciting to have the chance to have the whole of Edgar's body before them to map out and explore. While Rowan has been discovering the fun of repeat visits, there's familiarity in the unfamiliarity of a new partner to play with.

Their other hand moves to rest on Edgar's hip, pushing his shirt up just enough that they can slip their fingers underneath, just seeking out that close contact. And the hand in his hair continues to play gently, absentmindedly, most of Rowan's concentration on the kiss.

Abruptly even this isn't enough contact; he wants to feel more of Rowan against him.

He pulls his mouth free just long enough to half-whisper "-- here, can you shift up a bit --" and reaches around to Rowan's far side, trying to nudge them to slide into his lap. Sideways or straddle, whichever they like so long as he can properly get his arms around them.

Rowan doesn't need to be asked twice. They break away briefly to shift easily into Edgar's lap, wrapping their slim legs around his waist and pressing in close.

"Better?" They ask with a wide grin, as they rest one hand lightly on his chest, the other curling over his shoulder, their fingers tracing down his spine as they press their chest to Edgar's.

"Mmm," he hums, eyes closing blissfully for a moment as he wraps his arms around their slender frame, "much better."

He leans in to kiss, not Rowan's lips this time, but the side of their neck.

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