This is the man who told a horse that he was fucking a vampire with a completely straight face, and now here he is, struggling to talk about gardening. ]
I started it back before we knew if I'd be able to use the whip again. [ It had been in doubt, for a little while. Alucard's recovery had been painful but certain, but it didn't work that way for humans. Very little has ever been certain with humans. ] So I'd have something I could do. And- fuck.
[ It's easy to talk about the concept of being stuck here. Less easy to talk about choosing to stay. And so he falls back on his old reliable means of communicating with Alucard: sassing him by throwing his own words back at him. ]
[Alucard says it very softly, hand still lingering in Trevor's hair. He moves it slowly. Rests it on his cheek. Stays there, just being there.] You should keep buildling.
[Because if they're going to stay, really stay, stay for even just a year instead of returning to the world again, then he'll need something else to do. Sypha will. Alucard won't because he has his patterns and the Hold always needs attention.
And for those words, Alucard brings his forehead to Trevor's. Rests it there, because again he needs to see what such simple things can do. How they can make his face both the brightest and bring forth the happiest tears because there is knowing that simple fact and then it is hearing Trevor say it.]
[ And it's unfair to tell him things like that right now, because how is he meant to say no? How is he meant to say anything at all when the vampire is crying at him. Of course he has to keep building. Of course he has to stay. Of course he has to do every last thing Alucard says, because he's crying at him.
He doesn't know what he's supposed to build, because really they don't need that much, but he'll have to figure something out. Because this is, apparently, what happens when he builds things. And he hates it and it's wonderful. His arms were already around Alucard, but now his hand is at his back, rubbing awkwardly because that's what you do when people cry at you, right??? ]
[Two words with too much emotion in them. And Alucard knows that this much emotion makes Trevor a bit uncomfortable but too bad. Everything has been emotional lately, and this is probably one of the nicest outpourings Alucard's allowed himself in some time.
It's awkward. So Alucard tries to get himself under control just enough. He doesn't break this embrace though, or say anything more, or even entertain going and getting the books Trevor needs. Because here, this moment, this everything, it is wonderful and precious and if he was to capture a perfect day like his father tried, this, this memory, this would be it.]
[ He isn't letting go. And so Trevor doesn't let go. This is nice. This is comfortable. It's still overwhelming to look at Alucard's face, but if he cants his head to one side, settles against his shoulder again to look up at him from a different angle, it's a little easier.
And this is theirs. Like the little bedroom that they've made their own and lost and rebuilt. He made this for them, and it's not something left to them by some ancestor. Just theirs.
The secret's going to be out if they stay here for too long. But maybe- maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Sypha would see her gift incomplete, of course. But then she'd be all too eager to leap into the work of figuring out how to heat it, and he could watch her all excited, throwing solutions at Alucard for him to consider.
He's happy. He's happy here. And he's going to be happy here for a long time yet. ]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
no subject
[ Yes.
This is the man who told a horse that he was fucking a vampire with a completely straight face, and now here he is, struggling to talk about gardening. ]
I started it back before we knew if I'd be able to use the whip again. [ It had been in doubt, for a little while. Alucard's recovery had been painful but certain, but it didn't work that way for humans. Very little has ever been certain with humans. ] So I'd have something I could do. And- fuck.
[ It's easy to talk about the concept of being stuck here. Less easy to talk about choosing to stay. And so he falls back on his old reliable means of communicating with Alucard: sassing him by throwing his own words back at him. ]
I'm yours. You know that.
no subject
[Alucard says it very softly, hand still lingering in Trevor's hair. He moves it slowly. Rests it on his cheek. Stays there, just being there.] You should keep buildling.
[Because if they're going to stay, really stay, stay for even just a year instead of returning to the world again, then he'll need something else to do. Sypha will. Alucard won't because he has his patterns and the Hold always needs attention.
And for those words, Alucard brings his forehead to Trevor's. Rests it there, because again he needs to see what such simple things can do. How they can make his face both the brightest and bring forth the happiest tears because there is knowing that simple fact and then it is hearing Trevor say it.]
More than that, I'm yours.
no subject
[ And it's unfair to tell him things like that right now, because how is he meant to say no? How is he meant to say anything at all when the vampire is crying at him. Of course he has to keep building. Of course he has to stay. Of course he has to do every last thing Alucard says, because he's crying at him.
He doesn't know what he's supposed to build, because really they don't need that much, but he'll have to figure something out. Because this is, apparently, what happens when he builds things. And he hates it and it's wonderful. His arms were already around Alucard, but now his hand is at his back, rubbing awkwardly because that's what you do when people cry at you, right??? ]
no subject
It's awkward. So Alucard tries to get himself under control just enough. He doesn't break this embrace though, or say anything more, or even entertain going and getting the books Trevor needs. Because here, this moment, this everything, it is wonderful and precious and if he was to capture a perfect day like his father tried, this, this memory, this would be it.]
no subject
And this is theirs. Like the little bedroom that they've made their own and lost and rebuilt. He made this for them, and it's not something left to them by some ancestor. Just theirs.
The secret's going to be out if they stay here for too long. But maybe- maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Sypha would see her gift incomplete, of course. But then she'd be all too eager to leap into the work of figuring out how to heat it, and he could watch her all excited, throwing solutions at Alucard for him to consider.
He's happy. He's happy here. And he's going to be happy here for a long time yet. ]