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The whiskey was definitely beginning to go to Finns head. A warm, pleasant, dull and dizzy feeling was starting to overcome him, a heat that seemed to bloom up from his chest to his neck and up the back of his scalp. Finn often had a drink or two by himself, but he did not usually have enough to get himself drunk, rather just enough to take the edge off of whatever was annoying or frustrating him on any particular day. He knew that he'd gotten somewhere around the tipsy point right now, just a little beyond a simple buzz, and even with the bottle itself clutched in his hand, he debated whether to stop, or keep going. Did he really need more? Probably not. For now, the bottle was set on the nightstand, a final drag was taken from his cigarette and then butted out, and his full attention was given back to Ripley as he turned himself up onto the bed and resumed his previous position, hands going behind the back of his head.

"Well then I'm afraid all I can really suggest is another drink, and perhaps busying yourself with other matters, something to use as a distraction." It was tempting, then, to offer himself up for such activity, but now seemed hardly a good time to do so. If there was one thing that the alcohol was at least good for, it did seem to make Finn slightly more considerate.

Which was odd considering it generally worked in quite the opposite way for just about everybody else.

Despite the fact that Ripley really wasn't giving him much to work with, Finn tried to put himself in the other man's position, tried to think of how it would feel if somebody died, really actually died, trying to protect him. Would he care? It was probably scary that he didn't think it would bother him, that he thought that it was something he would easily be able to move past, and in such, could not figure out why it was bothering the other man so much. But he couldn't say that. He could put up with the negative judgement he got from a lot of people, but for some reason, he just couldn't deal with that from Ripley. He needed somebody, and so far, somehow, the death intermediate hadn't been scared away, and that meant something. Finn needed to not ******** that up.

"Taym?" He was suddenly dragged up out of thoughts that were slightly murky from alcohol, blinking and turning his face towards Ripley. "That guy that looks like some flea ridden, starved dog that's been kicked way too many times?" He knew him...sort of. They'd sparred once, ages ago, but since then Finn had only heard about the other man, and hadn't had much interaction with him. So, Ripley had beat the s**t out of him because he thought that he'd been the one to kill the girl....wait, this was far too ******** confusing for a whiskey clouded mind to follow. Finn pressed the heel of one hand against his eye and let out a hiss of air that sounded a lot like a sigh of exasperation. This conversation seemed to be going nowhere fast, with Ripley giving only the vaguest accounts of what had happened.

"Well, to be fair, I think it was more me that ran into you." Finn drawled, suddenly letting his hand drop and reaching out to his nightstand for his pack of cigarettes again, when something in what Ripley said next had him stopping mid motion and frowning slightly at how that tone had suddenly gone from hard to soft in an instant. Grabbing the pack, he sat back in his little spot on the bed, still frowning. "And here you are." He repeated, his own voice quieter, but with a harder edge then Ripley's, before he let out a sigh through his nose. And now what? He wondered. Just offer the man drinks until he was so pissed he couldn't stand up, and ended up blacking out on the carpet? He supposed if that's what Ripley wanted, then he could provide him with those means, though it certainly seemed like a waste of----

That train of thought cut off as well as Ripley leaned across him without so much as an excuse me. Finn blinked again, his body having gone rigid for just a moment but relaxing again quickly, and when Ripley went to move back again he thought that they would go back to the oh so pleasant conversation they'd been having.

But part of the way, Ripley stopped, and if it wasn't for the gloved hand suddenly on his cheek, urging him to turn his face, he would have done it anyways, if only to see what had made the other man pause, but there was no time really to look at much of anything, as suddenly he felt warm lips against his own, a kiss that felt tentative, as if for some reason Ripley just wasn't quite sure.

But Finn was sure. He'd wanted this, and he wasn't about to back down now just because he'd been slightly rejected a little while earlier. The package of cigarettes was dropped, forgotten about, as he leaned into that kiss, as he reached up to wrap fingers around Ripley's wrist to hold him there, as his body turned and shifted in the bed so that he was facing him better, as an arm snaked around the other mans body and pulled him in more, fingers pressing against Ripley's back, deepening the kiss more, making it worth every small moment in case it was all he got to convince the other man that they should do this.

Finn just hoped this wasn't too good to be true.

He wasn't sure if he'd be met with any resistance as he pulled the other man closer, because while Ripley had initiated things (this time), Finn had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him the other man could and probably would change his mind at any moment, though those thoughts were diffused considerably once he could feel the shift of Ripley's body, as the other man leaned into him of his own accord, and one kiss became several, long and lingering and wonderful as Finn came to lose himself in that moment, feeling a little bit overcome by faint dizziness and a warmth that he was positive had everything to do with the haze of alcohol and nothing else.

And then Ripley was moving, and Finn released his wrist so that his other arm could wrap around him as well, hands meeting at Ripley's back and lacing together to pull him forward lightly, a gentle encouragement to help convince him to do whatever he was thinking of doing, which turned into the favorable position of having the other man straddling his lap. That was nice. He could get used to that.

More kissing followed, and that was also still very nice, especially combined with the feel of fingers, gloved or not, sliding up his shirt.

What wasn't nice was Ripley's sudden need to ask an incredibly silly (in Finn's opinion, at least) question, one that had him pause, not responding to the kiss he was given afterwards, as he pulled away, eye opening to level a narrowed and steady look on the other man.

"You're single, probably drunk, and considering sleeping with the person that you and Ian so charmingly nick named after the king of hell....and you ******** give a s**t about whether or not anybody hears you?" It was a little bit tempting, at that moment, to shove Ripley off of his lap, but he somehow managed to restrain himself, hands gripping each other tighter on his back both as a means of keeping the other man right where he was and to stop himself from doing what he was considering.

"Are you ashamed of yourself, or just of me?" He asked, though he wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear the answer to that, and gave his head a small shake as if that might help to clear it of his rising annoyance, while taking in a deep breath as well.

But there was something else that still nagged at him from earlier, something that he just couldn't seem to let go of, though he had tried. "Or is this just more of your status quo garbage? Do this now, keep it quiet, and in the morning, pretend it didn't happen? Sounds awfully ******** convenient for you, doesn't it."

He shouldn't have said anything, but sober Finn could hardly keep his mouth shut for long and drunk Finn didn't have much of a chance. Even if being drunk generally meant being more considerate, it didn't mean he wanted to put up with what was, essentially to him, an insult, though one that he let get blown out of proportion before he could dismiss it, again a curse of letting himself drink too much, but once he started he could not find it within himself to stop, to reign his opinions on the matter back in.

And if he was honest with himself, it was more then just that, because if the thought of being used and then discarded and treated like it never happened was bothering him enough to start an argument about it, especially moments before he could have sealed the deal on something he had really, really wanted, then something was incredibly wrong in his head. What he was doing here...this wasn't new. He'd experienced plenty of one night stands, of frivolous flings that meant nothing to either party because that's exactly what it was, nothing. He was making a huge deal out of a tiny, insignificant thing, and even while Ripley treated him with a sharp rebuke and an even sharper explanation, he couldn't help but question himself, his own motives. What exactly did he want out of this?

"Don't be ridiculous." Finn scoffed, finally releasing his hold and easing himself back against the headboard, arms going to cross over his chest. If Ripley wanted a chance to escape, now was his chance to do so. He had been silent, gaze unwavering on Ripley's the entire time he had spoken, and when he finished, that answer was all that he'd felt was necessary. Worrying about who might hear? Ridiculous. Announcing it to the island? Hand holding? <******** ridiculous. Wanting a relationship??

.............Really ******** ridiculous.

But even after the words were said, there was a lingering feeling, something that niggled away in the back of his head, a small bit of doubt, perhaps, or maybe, just maybe, it had been something else entirely.

Maybe it had been hope.

As soon as he thought it, something in his hard expression changed, a flicker of surprise across a gaze that was usually ice cold. "Wait." He needed a second, because this was new, and unexpected, and he suddenly sat up, staring at Ripley with a new kind of intensity in his gaze.

"What if that is what I want?"

He thought about adding more, because a relationship, to Finn, would not be the same, would not be as conventional, as what most would expect. But he stopped there, and let that question linger in the air between them. Would Ripley stay, and talk about this a bit more, or would this be the final straw?

"I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm not laughing." Finn was quick to respond with his usual flippant attitude rearing it's ugly head again. He had sat up again, and while Ripley had moved away slightly, he hadn't left completely, which meant that there was only perhaps a foot and a half of space between them. Finn had seen quite clearly the surprise in the other mans face, had then also witnessed the disbelief that irked on the moon slightly but not enough to set him off again.

Unfolding his arms, he let his mouth quirk up into one of his more typical smirks, though for now it was only small. "The perfect kind." He replied, seemingly as if that was all he was going to say on the matter, if only to let Ripley work out the rest on his own. But instead, Finn reached out, fingers and thumb closing around one of Ripley's hands if he let it.

"Think about it. Neither one of us really seems to do well being tied down to just one single person. We know that for us....it just doesn't seem to work." Well, it certainly hadn't worked for either of them so far, anyways. "But what about something more...open?" He paused, watching Ripley carefully for a moment, to see if he was actually buying into this, because for Finn's part, he was being completely serious.

"No matter what you tell yourself Ripley, and trust me I've done the same...There's something there between us. Maybe we're both too ******** up for it to ever become something but...that doesn't change the fact..." It didn't change how they had been in a different world. It didn't change how once, for a brief moment, after the tower had fallen, there had only been one person on Finn's mind. "Aren't you just a little bit curious?" His eye narrowed just a little more, his smirk getting just that fraction bigger, and if Ripley had let him take his hand, his thumb would be brushing back and forth across his knuckles, a habit of his for anytime he came in physical contact with somebody else.

Finn often prepared himself for the worst, so that when things didn't go his way, he could hardly be disappointed. This was one of those moments, where he had said his piece (however lacking in eloquence), but gave himself full expectations of being shot down, or the very least, laughed at. When neither of those two scenarios occurred, he was able to blink, tilt his head to the side just slightly, and muse over just how easy that had actually been.

And then he had another moment to realize he had just basically asked Ripley to be his boyfriend, however much they managed to skew the terminology with their own definition of it, and that the other man wasn't refusing him outright, which, actually, combined with the light headed feeling provided by good whiskey, was kind of...nice. Not that it really showed on Finn's face, but he could take just a moment to appreciate the sensation in stoic silence while Ripley shared his own terms, before wrapping up the entire concept quite nicely with just a few words.

Finn's smirk became a cold grin. "Fine. The walls are just as thin here as they are in your room, I'm sure, as I can't see why they wouldn't be." Which was to say, yes, he could pretty much hear everything that happened in the rooms next to his, though spoken words were hard to make out unless shouted. "And....same." He waved his free hand at the rest, knowing full well what Ripley was like in public, and having the same sentiments in regard to the 'don't ask don't tell' side of things.

"I'm not looking for any lovey dovey bullshit. I'm not into that." As if that was even a question. "I just...." He paused, considering, before nodding his head. "Yes. I think I like the sound of that." His at the end of the day, it had a nice feel to it, like it offered some small sense of...belonging, almost, which was decidedly comforting in some odd way to Finn. It was stability. It was a relationship that, for them, could actually work.

"If you're interested, we can, of course, discuss...rules." Because there would need to be at least a few, something to differentiate what they would be doing from something so blasé as friends with benefits. For some reason, it seemed important in Finn's mind that it be more to them then just that.

Despite this all being Finn's idea from the start, he was just as much playing the current situation by ear as Ripley was. It wasn't until he was positive that the other man wasn't going to run away anytime soon, at least willing to hear him out until a decision was made, that Finn finally decided he could probably let his hand go, though before he did, he used it to pull the other man in a bit closer, leaning towards him to place another long kiss against his lips before pulling away to say "How about I can do that anytime I like, for starters?" With a smirk, before lowering his head with a small frown as he looked around for wherever his pack of cigarettes had gone.

Ah, there they were.

Reaching towards the edge of the bed where it had nearly fallen to the floor, Finn plucked the package up, while out of the corner of his eye then noticed the precariously placed glass of whiskey on the edge of the night stand. Reaching over, he nudged it into a safer position, before fishing out a cigarette and offering it towards Ripley.

If he took it, Finn would just get another for himself. If he didn't, then Finn would shrug and place it between his lips, lighting it up (and offering Ripley a light in turn if otherwise).

It wasn't until he was letting out a long exhalation of smoke that Finn seemed ready to begin the negotiation stage of this visit, though he vaguely wondered why he had to go and mess up the might have been of earlier when Ripley had been straddling his lap, considering in his mind that if he hadn't gone and been an incorrigible a** at that time, he could have been having this discussion in wonderful, sated, afterglow instead.

Damn.

"Anything I come up with can be subject to debate, if you wish. I'm not going to dictate exactly how I want things to be without you providing any insight....unless you choose not to give any, of course." Not bloody likely, he thought, but he said it just in case Ripley somehow believed what Finn wanted was set in stone.

And then, finally "Well first of all I think it would only be polite if you or I decide to...entertain somebody else at any given time, that we do it somewhere other then our own rooms. It cuts down on the likelihood of me walking in on you or you on me. Which brings me to my one small demand, that I get a key to your room, and may be allowed to enter at any time that I wish without prior consent. I can offer you one for mine as well, unless you are content to continue exercising your skills in petty crime." More smirking might have been a good indication that Finn actually found the thought of that quite amusing and wouldn't have minded just having Ripley pick the lock, as he had done tonight, forever. There was something about the thought of it that was actually....cute.

"Second. While I'm certainly not opposed to you going out and having your fun with other people, I'd prefer not to hear about it, if at all possible. I'm aware that you can't control what other people choose to talk about or keep to themselves, but from you....I would just rather not. I can offer to extend the same courtesy, if you want." He shrugged his shoulders before taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Third. If I need you, at any given time, no matter where you are, who you're with or what you're doing, I expect you to at least make an effort to stop and find me. I understand that in some instances that could be impossible. In that case, just tell me so, and I will back off, no explanations needed if you don't wish to give them."

He was studying Ripley closely as he listed off what he thought was fair, before adding on. "And if, of course, for any reason you or I believe that our relationship status just isn't working out for either of us....we are free to terminate it at any time. I promise, I won't hold it against you." His friendship with Fini hadn't suffered for his break up with her, and he would hope that, if that event should arise between he and Ripley, it could be the same.

"Would you like to add or change anything?" He asked, eyebrows raising.

The fact that Ripley did respond to the kiss, however delayed, was rather encouraging. The fact that he didn't disagree with Finn's little joke-rule was even more so, as he mentally stored away that bit of information, while knowing full well that public displays of affection would very likely not be met with such approval, and could probably also be very hazardous to his health.

Unfortunately for Ripley, Finn did live rather dangerously at times, seemingly with no regard whatsoever. An attempt at public kisses was more then inevitable, if a relationship did indeed become agreed upon.

Ripley's first half-laugh was met only with Finn's smirk becoming something much closer to a smile, amused though it hardly showed beyond that. "Of course, just trying to cover all of my bases." He responded, before eyebrows were raised at the ending Ripley had tacked on, while the returned lighter was set to the side. "What would you call it?" He wasn't upset by Ripley's clear dismissal of the idea of this counting as a relationship, by any means, simply curious.

After that, Finn had been given the floor, and when he was finished, he waited for a response from a man that had, frustratingly enough, given no hint as to how he felt on everything so far, one way or another. He could still very easily be shot down, or laughed at, and again he found himself wondering why he'd been so foolish as put a halt to earlier.....proceedings, as now it was rather questionable as to whether he'd get anything out of this at all.

But it soon became clear that Ripley was, thankfully, at least receptive to the idea, as he began to add on stipulations of his own. Did that mean that he agreed....?

Finn gave a nod to the initial request, as in his mind, the rules were meant to work both ways anyways. To the next slight amendment, he grinned "No ******** around with your things. I think I can handle that." For all of Finn's arrogant assholery, he held a fairly deep sense of respect for other people's property, holding it to the same value that he would his own.

And Finn absolutely loathed when anybody messed with his own stuff.

To the next, another nod, though soon followed through with a frown as Ripley suddenly brought out his phone, reading, what Finn assumed were the texts he (and maybe others as well who knew) had sent him while he'd been away on mission.

About ******** time.

"You're welcome." Finn smiled, not sure to which text Ripley was referring to, as each one was worthy of such high praise, he was sure.

After that, Ripley seemed to have some additions, and Finn waited until he was finished, his cigarette burning down to the filter at much the same time, forcing him to lean over and butt it out before responding.

"No sharing of kinky sex toys. Got it." He smirked, "And I suppose the rest seems fair enough as well." Finn, quite suddenly, began adjusting his legs beneath Ripley, as painful pins and needles were now working their way up and down his thighs, an issue that he'd been baring without a hint of how very uncomfortable it was until now. "If you wouldn't mind, moving, just a tad Ripples." There was no plea or urgency in his voice, or in his gaze, but if the other man didn't move soon, Finn thought he might just have to knock him to the side...maybe even off of the bed, just for a laugh.

Some things never changed.

"So?" He sat up straighter, fighting temptation to rub at his poor upper legs. "What's the verdict? And before you answer, know that if it's a no, I will be disappointed but, you can make up for it by staying the night with me anyways." Because why the ******** not?