[ Every move Alice makes is so fluid. So unstrung from worry, and Treavor thinks again that this, this is something Alice deserves more of. This ease where he doesn’t seem so guarded, where there are no dangers. Where he can wear a tshirt and those goddamn cuffed pants and lilt into that accent of his, strange to Treavor’s ears and comforting because it seems so natural for Alice, holds his voice so well.
God, and the guy kisses his fingers.
God, and the guy kisses his palm, and maybe that was a whimpered sound from Treavor, definitely it was, because jesus shit, he could live in that kissing forever, and yeah, definitely yeah, though left him a little again, blanked him all over again. ]
You keep this up, your Bunny’s not gonna have a thought in his head.
[ Which gives his answer, doesn’t it?
An answer written clear in Treavor’s wondering grin, his expression suggesting someone stricken and freed, transported, and yeah he feels lot he’s floating, like there’s nothing in the world that could bring him down again. An answer in his eyes speaking admiration, ubiquitous belief and wonder at believing.
Treavor feels at once very different from himself (usually so prickled, jagged, crossing unstable poorly-interred moods, usually so prone to bruising and to self-proclaimed insouciance), and closer to himself than he’s been… ever, maybe. Like he’s been lifted to some outcropped sanctuary he’s only ever guessed at, tried to reach for, leap for, wish for without reaching. Like he’s always been a lot of steps away from himself, or what he needed or wanted to be.
Like maybe he’s a few steps closer now. Like maybe he doesn’t have to dislike all the things he is, or believe his own worth weighs in at nothing.
Alice said. Yeah, Alice says there’s worth in Treavor. He’s said it, clear as day, and if Alice can get Treavor feeling more like right with himself, maybe Alice is onto something about that worth.
Alice who drifts kisses over Treavor’s fingers like the act and every kiss mean worlds, and Treavor feels their magnitude of meaning.
Who kisses Treavor’s palm, and the world does turned tinged gold, and time turns infinite, turns inconsequential, and everything that Treavor is dissolves for a moment, before returning to himself.
Because he doesn’t want to miss this. He doesn’t want to miss a thing.
(And doesn’t he like that Alice offered neither imposition nor rejection? That rather than place a role on Treavor, he opened the door (beckoned without pressure, without stoneclad expectation), indicated interest, and let Treavor know it matters what Treavor would like to be.
Of course Treavor would like to be. But it isn’t a choice he’s often given, or wanting isn’t often a consideration in play. (Wanting beyond ‘yeah fucking sounds good’ or ’sure whatever you said beats loneliness.’) And it feels good to have that choice, to know there’s… what? Reciprocation. Regard.
What a good fuckin guy.) ]
I gotta tell you though, Alice: It’s a lot of responsibility.
Me, I mean. Being your bunny. Because hey my secret?
[ His voice doesn’t drop a single octave (fuck though did Alice’s secret voice grab him at the base of the spine or what), but he does shift to that exaggerated whisper, faux-hushed and leaning in a little. ]
This bunny? This bunny who would like to be your Bunny? Is kind of a trouble-prone bunny. Like. You’re looking at a lot of work!
[ He means it lightly, though there’s a sharper needle of truth in there, a note of something like regret because it isn’t as if Treavor intends to be work or wants to put work on this guy, just.
It’s the truth.
And anyway, maybe-happily, Alice seems to… maybe not mind the thought of the work? ]
Though I gotta say, if anyone’s up to the task, I think maybe it’s you.
And! Something I can say?
[ He lowers his head for a nuzzle, a nuzzle with a good push and a little bit of a pleased sigh. ]
It might not be thankless work..
[ A wink? Yeah, that’s definitely a wink. And he’s definitely running a couple of fingers through Alice’s hair, down Alice’s jaw, his own smile quirking with something like approval, something like wanting, and absolute, definite joy. ]
In fact, I can give you the Treavor Pendleton guarantee that it won’t be thankless.
[ And finally, finally he settles back down again, nestling in beside Alice, as close as he can. ]
If you’re up for the challenge, you’re definitely, definitely stuck with this Bunny.
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God, and the guy kisses his fingers.
God, and the guy kisses his palm, and maybe that was a whimpered sound from Treavor, definitely it was, because jesus shit, he could live in that kissing forever, and yeah, definitely yeah, though left him a little again, blanked him all over again. ]
You keep this up, your Bunny’s not gonna have a thought in his head.
[ Which gives his answer, doesn’t it?
An answer written clear in Treavor’s wondering grin, his expression suggesting someone stricken and freed, transported, and yeah he feels lot he’s floating, like there’s nothing in the world that could bring him down again. An answer in his eyes speaking admiration, ubiquitous belief and wonder at believing.
Treavor feels at once very different from himself (usually so prickled, jagged, crossing unstable poorly-interred moods, usually so prone to bruising and to self-proclaimed insouciance), and closer to himself than he’s been… ever, maybe. Like he’s been lifted to some outcropped sanctuary he’s only ever guessed at, tried to reach for, leap for, wish for without reaching. Like he’s always been a lot of steps away from himself, or what he needed or wanted to be.
Like maybe he’s a few steps closer now. Like maybe he doesn’t have to dislike all the things he is, or believe his own worth weighs in at nothing.
Alice said. Yeah, Alice says there’s worth in Treavor. He’s said it, clear as day, and if Alice can get Treavor feeling more like right with himself, maybe Alice is onto something about that worth.
Alice who drifts kisses over Treavor’s fingers like the act and every kiss mean worlds, and Treavor feels their magnitude of meaning.
Who kisses Treavor’s palm, and the world does turned tinged gold, and time turns infinite, turns inconsequential, and everything that Treavor is dissolves for a moment, before returning to himself.
Because he doesn’t want to miss this. He doesn’t want to miss a thing.
(And doesn’t he like that Alice offered neither imposition nor rejection? That rather than place a role on Treavor, he opened the door (beckoned without pressure, without stoneclad expectation), indicated interest, and let Treavor know it matters what Treavor would like to be.
Of course Treavor would like to be. But it isn’t a choice he’s often given, or wanting isn’t often a consideration in play. (Wanting beyond ‘yeah fucking sounds good’ or ’sure whatever you said beats loneliness.’) And it feels good to have that choice, to know there’s… what? Reciprocation. Regard.
What a good fuckin guy.) ]
I gotta tell you though, Alice: It’s a lot of responsibility.
Me, I mean. Being your bunny. Because hey my secret?
[ His voice doesn’t drop a single octave (fuck though did Alice’s secret voice grab him at the base of the spine or what), but he does shift to that exaggerated whisper, faux-hushed and leaning in a little. ]
This bunny? This bunny who would like to be your Bunny? Is kind of a trouble-prone bunny. Like. You’re looking at a lot of work!
[ He means it lightly, though there’s a sharper needle of truth in there, a note of something like regret because it isn’t as if Treavor intends to be work or wants to put work on this guy, just.
It’s the truth.
And anyway, maybe-happily, Alice seems to… maybe not mind the thought of the work? ]
Though I gotta say, if anyone’s up to the task, I think maybe it’s you.
And! Something I can say?
[ He lowers his head for a nuzzle, a nuzzle with a good push and a little bit of a pleased sigh. ]
It might not be thankless work..
[ A wink? Yeah, that’s definitely a wink. And he’s definitely running a couple of fingers through Alice’s hair, down Alice’s jaw, his own smile quirking with something like approval, something like wanting, and absolute, definite joy. ]
In fact, I can give you the Treavor Pendleton guarantee that it won’t be thankless.
[ And finally, finally he settles back down again, nestling in beside Alice, as close as he can. ]
If you’re up for the challenge, you’re definitely, definitely stuck with this Bunny.
Because I like being stuck with you.