Ever since he'd gotten word that Dylan (and Jamie and Scorpius) were going to be okay, he'd had to forcibly keep himself from running over. He'd wanted to give Dylan a little time to get readjusted, and hadn't wanted to make a nuisance of himself, but he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to see with his own eyes that Dylan was on the mend.
So, after his shift at the hospital, he went home, showered and changed into something casual--and if his denims were a little tighter than normal, well, he'd decided not to give up on Dylan, hadn't he? And all was fair in love and war, or something like that--and Floo'd over to Dylan's house.
Dylan was on the couch, and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, Lorcan smiled and moved into the room. "Hi," he said, eyes raking over Dylan, seeing for himself that though he was still pale and thin, he didn't look close to death any longer. "I'm so glad you're okay." His voice broke a bit, and then without thinking about the consequences, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over Dylan's, lingering for a long moment, before drawing back, cheeks burning.