Henry has always been a risk-taker; he wouldn't have gotten on the ship to the Americas if he hadn't been. There also wasn't much of a choice when he needed blood when he couldn't feed from someone, and he wasn't going to press Steve for that now.

If Steven told Henry what he needed, he would happily give it to the man; it was hard to hurt Henry and catch him if you weren't of his kind. But had a feeling like Bucky, Steven could give him from time to time, though he still very much craved the rush of being with another vampire... well Abraham, and no other.

He takes a long drag from the hookah savoring the flavor, something sweet he'd only ever tasted in the smoke; it's one of the reasons he enjoyed it, foods he'd never have.

Henry blows a smoke ring turning to let some of the smoke drift toward Steven before leaning in and kissing the blond blotting at his lower lip before pulling back and taking a sip from his glass.

"Good," He says, watching Steven, eyes dark, a slight smirk on his face, "Are you starting to feel better?" He says, fingers carding through his hair again, this time trailing all the way done the man's back and then back up into Steven's hair.