[ And also just plain hold him, once he tires of just being held himself and doing very little else. Which usually happens soon enough but- for now, this is nice. He's been trying to have control of the situation all day, it's good to let Alucard have a turn.
The laughter finally stops and he turns his head up to kiss whatever of Alucard's face he can reach from this angle. ]
[There's a moment between when Trevor's laugh stops and the kisses begin in earnest, and in that moment there is nothing but the purest adoration on Alucard's face. All softness, all gentle lines, all love because what else can he do in this wonderful moment but look at Trevor and want to make sure that the love had is clearly known. (It is, it has been for ages, but still.)
It's never like this when they travel. Too much of the world can still see them, and the coldness of whatever the work is allows for only little moments. This place, this estate, it's the only other place besides home that has ever witnessed this. Perhaps that is right, for who it was once home to. Perhaps not. Perhaps this is all just an attempt to fight and claw at the shadows of legacy that loom even heavier now.
It'll always be like this, fighting those shadows and expectations. What else could it ever be? But if these moments are a part of that struggle, then what else can that struggle be called but a good strife?
Alucard leans down so that there's an entire face to kiss. He holds Trevor close. There's no work to do right now, no terrible thing looming on the horizon. Just this.]
Careful, you might make me think that's a complaint.
[ This was Leon's home once. Mathias' home. Sara's. And yet, somehow he doubts they ever dragged bedding from the servants' quarters into the kitchens to sleep there.
No matter how fiercely the three of them loved each other, they were not them. They were different people, who lived in a different time. Who loved, no doubt, in different ways. At the very least, none of them are half as wordy as Leon was. Leon's journals were a comfort, in that much. There are traits of their ancestors that he recognizes in the three of them, but those are traits that exist in so many others.
And Alucard is making that face - that fucking face, it's ridiculous that a vampire should resemble the fucking sun so much - and he can't even think about that anymore because he can barely think about whether 'the vampire is being cute you need to see him' is a reasonable reason to wake Sypha. ]
My best love.
[ He says it as a joke, but it comes out sounding too sincere for that. Warm and quiet and not all that weird at all. ]
[Never. Complaints are for the little things, like baths and leaving weapons where they shouldn't be. Only the little things, because the big things usually have no disagreement at all. Just little quibbles about the best way forward.
It's a shitty fucking joke. And the only response is to shut the Belmont up with as deep and as loving a kiss as Alucard has ever pressed to those lips.]
[ He loves this vampire. He loves this stupid fucking vampire. And he has for a long time, but right now- right now.
Right now it's a lot. It wouldn't be entirely untrue to say that it takes a lot to get under his skin. He's grown up with horror, and he can see and watch and recall the most terrible things without it seeming to get to him at all. But that isn't true for love, where even the slightest thing can get under his skin. And this- this is very much not the slightest thing. He's flushed and glassy-eyed by the time the kiss breaks, and the adoration on Alucard's face is too much to look at and so he just laughs again, softly and catching in his throat, and buries his face in Alucard's collar. ]
Go lie down with Sypha. [ His voice is just a little choked, but it's soft. There's no distress in it, only overwhelming happiness. ] Don't care if you're not going to sleep. I'm not going to let go after that, so you may as well get comfortable.
[It's impossible to say no. Not to that request, not to the emotion it betrays either. This never happens, this is something to grab onto and hold close until the moment passes. If it passes. (It will, but Alucard hopes in spite of that fact.
There's a gentle nudge at the side of Trevor's head, Alucard's mouth just above his ear.]
[ Maybe it's worry that brought this about - he has been worried for Alucard all day. Maybe it's the leftovers of the head injury, and finally (somewhat too late) being willing to just allow himself to be cared for. Maybe it simply is just a rare mood, something brought upon by nothing but whim. Whatever it is, he knows in the back of his mind how unusual it is to just be content. Nothing but content. And he'd like to get the most of it while it lasts. ]
Mmm. Don't want to.
[ It's stupid and it's childish and he doesn't care. But he does want them both to be closer to Sypha, regardless of the season and how warm she always is. She'll know, even in her sleep, and she'll grab and latch on to him and not let go and Alucard won't let go either and that all sounds wonderful right now. Not just wonderful. Needed. Desperately, desperately needed. ]
Fine.
[ And he moves, taking his own weight again, just far enough away so that Alucard can get up and not letting go of his hand. ]
[It takes a few moments for standing up to happen. Alucard's just fine with that fact, even if it means he has to loosen his grip on Trevor in hope that the man will stand the hell up. Eventually that does happen, and when it does, Alucard rises slowly.
They're all bursting from stress, aren't they? He knows he is, even if there has been some tentative peace made with the fact three was something of a family matter now too. It's the rest that weighs it all down. It's the rest that makes him glad for tonight.
That hand in his is the lightest thing in the world. He doesn't let go, not until he's next to Sypha and Alucard must, must let go for the briefest of moments so that he can lay down. It is summer, and so the fire is to embers, and Sypha will latch on for the coolness of Alucard's skin.
He'll take that too. But for the moment, he nods at Trevor, then opens both his arms.]
[ The only reason he doesn't just let himself tumble down on top of Alucard is that it would almost certainly wake Sypha. Instead he crouches down next to him and just flops gracelessly the rest of the way into his arms.
He'd thought the novelty of it would fade after a few months, of being safe and loved. Worse, that it might become like the drink, something that he'd end up destroying himself to chase. Neither have happened. It's just- just safe, and soft and perfect. He settles his head in the crook of Alucard's neck, one arm over his chest to reach for Sypha and stroke her cheek. ]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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[ And also just plain hold him, once he tires of just being held himself and doing very little else. Which usually happens soon enough but- for now, this is nice. He's been trying to have control of the situation all day, it's good to let Alucard have a turn.
The laughter finally stops and he turns his head up to kiss whatever of Alucard's face he can reach from this angle. ]
no subject
[There's a moment between when Trevor's laugh stops and the kisses begin in earnest, and in that moment there is nothing but the purest adoration on Alucard's face. All softness, all gentle lines, all love because what else can he do in this wonderful moment but look at Trevor and want to make sure that the love had is clearly known. (It is, it has been for ages, but still.)
It's never like this when they travel. Too much of the world can still see them, and the coldness of whatever the work is allows for only little moments. This place, this estate, it's the only other place besides home that has ever witnessed this. Perhaps that is right, for who it was once home to. Perhaps not. Perhaps this is all just an attempt to fight and claw at the shadows of legacy that loom even heavier now.
It'll always be like this, fighting those shadows and expectations. What else could it ever be? But if these moments are a part of that struggle, then what else can that struggle be called but a good strife?
Alucard leans down so that there's an entire face to kiss. He holds Trevor close. There's no work to do right now, no terrible thing looming on the horizon. Just this.]
no subject
[ This was Leon's home once. Mathias' home. Sara's. And yet, somehow he doubts they ever dragged bedding from the servants' quarters into the kitchens to sleep there.
No matter how fiercely the three of them loved each other, they were not them. They were different people, who lived in a different time. Who loved, no doubt, in different ways. At the very least, none of them are half as wordy as Leon was. Leon's journals were a comfort, in that much. There are traits of their ancestors that he recognizes in the three of them, but those are traits that exist in so many others.
And Alucard is making that face - that fucking face, it's ridiculous that a vampire should resemble the fucking sun so much - and he can't even think about that anymore because he can barely think about whether 'the vampire is being cute you need to see him' is a reasonable reason to wake Sypha. ]
My best love.
[ He says it as a joke, but it comes out sounding too sincere for that. Warm and quiet and not all that weird at all. ]
no subject
[Never. Complaints are for the little things, like baths and leaving weapons where they shouldn't be. Only the little things, because the big things usually have no disagreement at all. Just little quibbles about the best way forward.
It's a shitty fucking joke. And the only response is to shut the Belmont up with as deep and as loving a kiss as Alucard has ever pressed to those lips.]
no subject
Right now it's a lot. It wouldn't be entirely untrue to say that it takes a lot to get under his skin. He's grown up with horror, and he can see and watch and recall the most terrible things without it seeming to get to him at all. But that isn't true for love, where even the slightest thing can get under his skin. And this- this is very much not the slightest thing. He's flushed and glassy-eyed by the time the kiss breaks, and the adoration on Alucard's face is too much to look at and so he just laughs again, softly and catching in his throat, and buries his face in Alucard's collar. ]
Go lie down with Sypha. [ His voice is just a little choked, but it's soft. There's no distress in it, only overwhelming happiness. ] Don't care if you're not going to sleep. I'm not going to let go after that, so you may as well get comfortable.
no subject
There's a gentle nudge at the side of Trevor's head, Alucard's mouth just above his ear.]
You have to move for that to happen, you know.
no subject
Mmm. Don't want to.
[ It's stupid and it's childish and he doesn't care. But he does want them both to be closer to Sypha, regardless of the season and how warm she always is. She'll know, even in her sleep, and she'll grab and latch on to him and not let go and Alucard won't let go either and that all sounds wonderful right now. Not just wonderful. Needed. Desperately, desperately needed. ]
Fine.
[ And he moves, taking his own weight again, just far enough away so that Alucard can get up and not letting go of his hand. ]
no subject
They're all bursting from stress, aren't they? He knows he is, even if there has been some tentative peace made with the fact three was something of a family matter now too. It's the rest that weighs it all down. It's the rest that makes him glad for tonight.
That hand in his is the lightest thing in the world. He doesn't let go, not until he's next to Sypha and Alucard must, must let go for the briefest of moments so that he can lay down. It is summer, and so the fire is to embers, and Sypha will latch on for the coolness of Alucard's skin.
He'll take that too. But for the moment, he nods at Trevor, then opens both his arms.]
no subject
He'd thought the novelty of it would fade after a few months, of being safe and loved. Worse, that it might become like the drink, something that he'd end up destroying himself to chase. Neither have happened. It's just- just safe, and soft and perfect. He settles his head in the crook of Alucard's neck, one arm over his chest to reach for Sypha and stroke her cheek. ]
Better.