[Trevor will take this. Really and truly, he'll bear it without complaint. Adrian spoils them, and so he deserves to be spoiled, particularly when his spoiling involves something as simple as curling up on the couch with-- Hell, is this smooth jazz? Trevor doesn't know, but...
It's soothing, and Adrian's weight on his chest is comforting, even if he takes forever to curl himself up into the tightest ball possible, and Trevor doesn't understand how in God's name that could be comfortable. And damn his hair, Trevor's gone a few hours too long without a strand to stroke. It's slow going with one hand, but he manages after some careful maneuvering, loosens the tie around the bun, leaves the braids, and gingerly combs his fingers through the veritable cornsilk that tumbles across Adrian's back.
That's better; sinking a hand through and down Adrian's hair, everything is infinitely better. And just in case the dhampir has any ideas about escape, Trevor drapes his other arm securely around Adrian's shoulders. Holding may be the wrong word; cradling seems more accurate, particularly considering how Trevor shifts his legs to settle Adrian more comfortably between them.
It could turn salacious. Would, if Trevor weren't reminding himself that this is enough. Though, surprisingly, it is. He could drift off to sleep like this, stay here all night, wrapped around Adrian and shockingly content. Because this...
Monsters are verifiable; Trevor's seen and slain hundreds of them. Angels? Miracles? Those, he's yet to meet. So for all that Trevor's been raised in the light of the Lord, he's never been sure of the notion of Heaven. But laying here, trapped beneath Adrian's weight, lost in his softness and his scent-- This is the closest to Heaven he's ever felt.]
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It's soothing, and Adrian's weight on his chest is comforting, even if he takes forever to curl himself up into the tightest ball possible, and Trevor doesn't understand how in God's name that could be comfortable. And damn his hair, Trevor's gone a few hours too long without a strand to stroke. It's slow going with one hand, but he manages after some careful maneuvering, loosens the tie around the bun, leaves the braids, and gingerly combs his fingers through the veritable cornsilk that tumbles across Adrian's back.
That's better; sinking a hand through and down Adrian's hair, everything is infinitely better. And just in case the dhampir has any ideas about escape, Trevor drapes his other arm securely around Adrian's shoulders. Holding may be the wrong word; cradling seems more accurate, particularly considering how Trevor shifts his legs to settle Adrian more comfortably between them.
It could turn salacious. Would, if Trevor weren't reminding himself that this is enough. Though, surprisingly, it is. He could drift off to sleep like this, stay here all night, wrapped around Adrian and shockingly content. Because this...
Monsters are verifiable; Trevor's seen and slain hundreds of them. Angels? Miracles? Those, he's yet to meet. So for all that Trevor's been raised in the light of the Lord, he's never been sure of the notion of Heaven. But laying here, trapped beneath Adrian's weight, lost in his softness and his scent-- This is the closest to Heaven he's ever felt.]