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Finn frowned while his back was still towards the other man. That's not what I'm worried about. The words struck him, and took hold, just another issue to add to the growing list of issues that he was trying to deal with. He wasn't sure what it was even supposed to mean, because he couldn't fathom what Ripley might actually be afraid of, if afraid was even the right word.

Back at the bedside, he had said what he meant to, and had placed his own cigarette between his lips, lighting it up with a long inhale that filled his lungs and instantly relaxed him, before turning his head and exhaling with a chuckle.

"Chel stayed because Jack told her too and she's his little b***h." Finn mused, mostly to himself, but out loud, which opened his opinion to objection or debate should Ripley have anything to say about it. There was more that he felt like saying, the words on the tip of his tongue (Did you make her your little b***h too, Ripley?), but he stopped himself, because sometimes, rarely, he learned when it was better to keep his mouth shut.

The smirk stayed, however, and he crawled back up onto the bed, a cigarette in one hand, a lighter in the other. He placed himself so that he was straddling the other mans lap, before he held out the lighter towards him, flicking it alight.

"It doesn't matter, now. What's done is done." It didn't change the fact though, that in Finn's head, he knew he should have stayed. He needed to learn to be an adult about things, face his problems, face his own humanity, and stop hiding when things got weird. "And I'm...." He paused, eye searching Ripley's before he frowned slightly.

"Curious now. What were you worried about?"

Finn mentally shrugged off Ripley's rebuttal on the Chelsea comment. The moon intermediate knew, however, that whatever Jack told the woman to do, chances were, she would do it, and to the very best of her abilities. She was, without a ******** doubt, smitten with him. Finn had even told her as much, once, though she had avidly denied it.

Typical.

But it didn't matter what Ripley thought in comparison to what Finn believed to be true. It didn't matter because...it didn't affect them in the slightest. Ripley at least hadn't been alone when he awoke, and didn't seem upset that Finn hadn't been there. They'd both had their apologies to make and while neither of them had really needed an apology, it had all been said and done anyways.

Finn took another drag off of his own smoke, and tilted his head back to exhale, the frown disappearing as a small smile tugged at his lips instead.

"Okay then." He put the cigarette back between his lips, and wrapped his arms around Ripley's neck, fingers lacing behind the other mans head.

"Well, since whatever it is, is now not important, and seeing as I've just now decided to forgive you" He began to grin around his cigarette at that. "I had a question I've been meaning to ask."

He had been planning on asking much sooner than this, but the whole zombie infection thing had put off his plans.

"Will you." He stopped, reaching up to remove his cigarette before it could ash all over Ripley's chest, tapping it off in the empty whiskey bottle sitting on the bed side stand like a poor persons ash tray. "Take two days leave with me? Not right this second but say...the day after tomorrow?"

If Ripley thought he could make Finn somehow uncomfortable by making him wait in silence for an answer, he was wrong. The moon intermediate just as casually smoked his own cigarette, continuing to be a gentlemen by exhaling away from Ripley's face (just one of many perks to being his not-boyfriend). The feel of the other man's scarred hand brushing against his hip was somewhat distracting, however, and already Finn was contemplating how quickly they might both be ready for a second round of what might have actually been make-up sex, now that he thought about it.

His gaze might have seemed a bit vacant for a moment, until he snapped back to the matter at hand.

"Does it really matter?" He asked, eyebrows rising but a hint of amusement in his tone. "Someplace we can drink, someplace we can ********, I might add in case this is all just sounding like things we can do right here. Some place we can maybe take in a local hockey game." Probably no NHL level yet, but in September? There would be hockey somewhere.

"Anywhere is better then this place, isn't it?" He took a final drag off of his cigarette, and butted it out by scraping off the cherry on the rim of the whiskey bottle before letting the rest fall in as well. He exhaled slowly, and gave Ripley a vague sort of smirk. "Come on. I bet I had you at the <******** loudly, didn't I?"

The no place warm brought another smirk to Finn's lips, though he did genuinely find it rather amusing that he and Ripley were so alike in thoughts on the matter. The heat of the island was something that he should have gotten used to by now, yet he still found it uncomfortable at the best of times. Cold was not just preferential, it was a necessity. "It's like you're reading my mind."

He waited for Ripley to come to a decision, though it was clear by the way his gaze began to wander that he was becoming distracted, mostly by the way Ripley's hand continued to brush against his hip, but also by the fact that they were both very much naked, and Finn's fingers had began to thread through Ripley's hair almost of their own accord.

"Mmmhmmmm...." Still smirking, though so lightly that it might have looked more like a smile. "So that's a yes? Good." He didn't even bother waiting for Ripley to confirm before he was ducking in for another long kiss, one that lingered with a light n** to the other mans lower lip before he was moving on further downward, along his jaw, down his neck, hands unweaving themselves from behind the back of Ripley's head and hair, sliding down to his shoulders, as his lips worked their way lower, and lower.

"......I'm ready to make up now." He suddenly looked up, smirk widening.

Because the previous romp didn't count for making up.