There’s a sigh at that nuzzle, a soft laugh, almost-giggle, and Treavor stretches his neck, tilts his head, closes his eyes and runs a slow stroke over Alice’s arm as he feels, and he feels, and he feels those lips against his throat.
This perfect goddamn guy. This goddamn guy who smells like warmth and smoke and a rarity of air not found in this city. This perfect man who winds Treavor closer to himself, the pair of them melded, safe now forever.
This warm and this rare man who hears everything Treavor says, and every could-be-thought beneath it. Who listens with the whole of the world, and who tells Treavor that Treavor’s rare, that Treavor’s something with value, maybe someone outpacing value, and who leaves Treavor feeling that maybe, oh maybe it’s true. ]
Heyyy, you’re gonna make me feel special.
[ He’d like to be that, wouldn’t he? He’d like to feel special, and does feel rare in Alice’s presence, the way the guy watches him like there’s nothing else around, matching Treavor’s absorption and his bounding heart beat-for-beat. The way that Alice looks at Treavor and Treavor looks at Alice and the whole universe coheres within their shared sight, every smile a shimmering of stars, every gesture an act of creation. The way that without hesitation, Alice extends a hand and invites Treavor to nestle beside him, the way Alice’s hand at Treavor’s hair speaks tender and familiar, the way this guy goddamn purrs, and Treavor’s insides turn to cloud and honey and he’d do anything this guy asked, he’d do anything to inch just a little closer up against him, he’d do anything to see Alice smile, to hear that laugh, to make Alice feel all right in the world.
Yeah. He’d like to make sure Alice knows just how special he is, an improbability almost too good to be real, and yet here he is, chest rising and falling against Treavor’s own, maddening trace of perfect lips against Treavor’s skin.
Odd to think he should have reached for ’special’ as a word and found it vibrant. Treavor never used cared much for the word, used to only ever wield it with derision. ‘Special’ was only ever a lie or a dream or an insult. As in, oh ignore that guy, he’s a special case here in the offices of Pendleton & Pendleton, never mind his name or the nothing that he does. As in, years ago, special boy with his special treatment, like he’d fucking asked to endure a year and a half of sort-of-schooling at home, like he hadn’t always known he was everything aside from cherished, unamounting trouble of a son a brother a student a pseudo-friend. Yeah, that Treavor Pendleton, he’s something special, said no one seriously, ever.
The word resonates now. Glows a little when he looks at it and finds no sick-sweet insincerity. It’s a nice idea. It’s a nice thought. That something could be actually special, precious.
And it’s nice to find the word changed, now. Transformed, made real and made true because of Alice.
And how much else will Alice make new, make better simply by existing? Alice drifts a hand over Treavor’s hip, and the world shudders on its axis, and everything known tints from frostbitten toward gold. The thrum of Alice’s pulse overwhelms everything Treavor’s known, restoring meaning to dimmed dreams and tired phrases.
Everything is better with Alice. Absolutely everything.
Treavor lifts his head a little, shifts so he can look Alice dead-on in the face, looking wound up in thought, as if considering something Alice said. ]
Hmmm…
[ Hey, Alice, do you see that face? That is Treavor’s Very Serious I Am Considering This face, and that’s his forefinger set against the tip of his nose, light in contemplation. That’s his finger tapping once, twice. ]
You know, I haven’t met a lot of gentlemen.
[ Tap. Hmm. Tap. Hmm. ]
You’re definitely the best gentleman I’ve met. Maybe the only true gentleman. Gentleman highlander, hmm…
[ Hmm…
Hm!
And then, suddenly, Treavor moves that fingertip to the tip of Alice’s nose! Taps once, and then again! ]
Since you are the gentleman here, I guess I’ll have to defer to your judgement.
If you say you can go for not-blondes, than buddy, I’m your man.
[ And, his smile growing dafter and warming— ]
Or your Bunny.
Am I your Bunny?
[ His smile says he’d like to be. His smile says that even thinking it undoes him a little, says there’s little more he could wish. ]
no subject
There’s a sigh at that nuzzle, a soft laugh, almost-giggle, and Treavor stretches his neck, tilts his head, closes his eyes and runs a slow stroke over Alice’s arm as he feels, and he feels, and he feels those lips against his throat.
This perfect goddamn guy. This goddamn guy who smells like warmth and smoke and a rarity of air not found in this city. This perfect man who winds Treavor closer to himself, the pair of them melded, safe now forever.
This warm and this rare man who hears everything Treavor says, and every could-be-thought beneath it. Who listens with the whole of the world, and who tells Treavor that Treavor’s rare, that Treavor’s something with value, maybe someone outpacing value, and who leaves Treavor feeling that maybe, oh maybe it’s true. ]
Heyyy, you’re gonna make me feel special.
[ He’d like to be that, wouldn’t he? He’d like to feel special, and does feel rare in Alice’s presence, the way the guy watches him like there’s nothing else around, matching Treavor’s absorption and his bounding heart beat-for-beat. The way that Alice looks at Treavor and Treavor looks at Alice and the whole universe coheres within their shared sight, every smile a shimmering of stars, every gesture an act of creation. The way that without hesitation, Alice extends a hand and invites Treavor to nestle beside him, the way Alice’s hand at Treavor’s hair speaks tender and familiar, the way this guy goddamn purrs, and Treavor’s insides turn to cloud and honey and he’d do anything this guy asked, he’d do anything to inch just a little closer up against him, he’d do anything to see Alice smile, to hear that laugh, to make Alice feel all right in the world.
Yeah. He’d like to make sure Alice knows just how special he is, an improbability almost too good to be real, and yet here he is, chest rising and falling against Treavor’s own, maddening trace of perfect lips against Treavor’s skin.
Odd to think he should have reached for ’special’ as a word and found it vibrant. Treavor never used cared much for the word, used to only ever wield it with derision. ‘Special’ was only ever a lie or a dream or an insult. As in, oh ignore that guy, he’s a special case here in the offices of Pendleton & Pendleton, never mind his name or the nothing that he does. As in, years ago, special boy with his special treatment, like he’d fucking asked to endure a year and a half of sort-of-schooling at home, like he hadn’t always known he was everything aside from cherished, unamounting trouble of a son a brother a student a pseudo-friend. Yeah, that Treavor Pendleton, he’s something special, said no one seriously, ever.
The word resonates now. Glows a little when he looks at it and finds no sick-sweet insincerity. It’s a nice idea. It’s a nice thought. That something could be actually special, precious.
And it’s nice to find the word changed, now. Transformed, made real and made true because of Alice.
And how much else will Alice make new, make better simply by existing? Alice drifts a hand over Treavor’s hip, and the world shudders on its axis, and everything known tints from frostbitten toward gold. The thrum of Alice’s pulse overwhelms everything Treavor’s known, restoring meaning to dimmed dreams and tired phrases.
Everything is better with Alice. Absolutely everything.
Treavor lifts his head a little, shifts so he can look Alice dead-on in the face, looking wound up in thought, as if considering something Alice said. ]
Hmmm…
[ Hey, Alice, do you see that face? That is Treavor’s Very Serious I Am Considering This face, and that’s his forefinger set against the tip of his nose, light in contemplation. That’s his finger tapping once, twice. ]
You know, I haven’t met a lot of gentlemen.
[ Tap. Hmm. Tap. Hmm. ]
You’re definitely the best gentleman I’ve met. Maybe the only true gentleman. Gentleman highlander, hmm…
[ Hmm…
Hm!
And then, suddenly, Treavor moves that fingertip to the tip of Alice’s nose! Taps once, and then again! ]
Since you are the gentleman here, I guess I’ll have to defer to your judgement.
If you say you can go for not-blondes, than buddy, I’m your man.
[ And, his smile growing dafter and warming— ]
Or your Bunny.
Am I your Bunny?
[ His smile says he’d like to be. His smile says that even thinking it undoes him a little, says there’s little more he could wish. ]