OPEN RP POST

[loyalless]

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[sweatycoward]

[ Oh. No. Oh no, what did… What happened?

Treavor doesn’t know where the fade came from, or how to ease that smile back.

Or. Alice doesn’t want that ease right now. Alice is telling him something in that hum, in the way he’s taken Treavor’s hand. Not tearing away Treavor’s touch, but asking for a moment, a pause. A space to let in some unknown word or thought or subject, and if there’s anything Alice needs to address, Treavor won’t bar him. Will only watch quietly, making certain his eyes never waver, making certain Alice knows Treavor’s here no matter what.

He wants, he badly wants Alice to feel safeguarded and bolstered. Wants Alice to feel even a part of the security that Treavor feels when this guy holds him, brushes against him, heeds any word he says.

It means something that Treavor finds himself at a precipice, not knowing the shape of the could-be-trouble ahead and yet not flinching away, not trying to bat off the inevitable, not shrinking inside even a little. This is a wherewithal he rarely finds. A strength granted by the man who holds his hand with such care, who looks at if his heart’s been wrenched.

And Treavor wants to fix it.

And Treavor has to wait. Listen. (And if what Alice has to say is hard to hear, he’ll listen anyway, and register its every tone.)

So he keeps his quiet, expression carefully attentive, trying not to show worry (he can’t help a little bit of worry; Alice looks so stricken), doing his best not to impose or do more than curl his fingers just slightly, so slightly against Alice’s hand.

(And Alice calls him ’Bunny.’ Only ‘Bunny,’ and Treavor loves the sound of it, how he could be, how he is Alice’s bunny.

At the same time, Alice calls him ‘Bunny,’ and the word seems stark, alone; a correction with a note of sorrow, and again Treavor wants to reach out, hold his hand over Alice’s heart and offer healing.)

Hard not to melt into the drift of those fingers at his hair; impossible to wholly muffle a choked sound at Alice’s words: ’I’m the complication.’ Words fired with pains Treavor doesn’t know the outlines of. Words that ache to hear, because what Treavor reads in those words is blame, is a bearing down beneath some burden this man should never need to take alone.

Treavor tries to be still, but his hand moves to Alice’s cheek, offering quiet, quiet caresses in kind. (He can’t let Alice hang there without succor of some kind. He can’t watch Alice suffer distant. He won’t.) And he hears Alice’s words (and he hates the history they whisper, everything that’s conspired to leave Alice severed from so much, everything that means Alice has to hide (it’s his father, isn’t it? or his father’s part of it; Alice said something about, about wanting to break away, support himself, and maybe this is why, okay, okay, it sucks, fuck Alice’s dad if that’s what it is, but it’ll be okay, Treavor’ll help make sure Alice gets through things okay). His poor fucking guy. His poor fucking guy, who’s go so much shit at his shoulders.

Treavor wraps his arms around Alice, tight, tighter. Speaks softly— ]

It’s okay.

[ And then just holds Alice, nudging at his head, his hand stroking steady assurance at Alice’s neck.

This goddamn guy’s carrying too much. Treavor’s poor fuckin, beautiful goddamn guy. ]

Alice, hey. That’s not so bad. It’s not even that complicated. Not for me.

[ He traces a thumb from Alice’s temple to his cheek. Nudges the guy’s head again, hums a little lilting sound and places a light, light kiss against Alice’s hair. ]

I’d take a few years of complicated if you wanted it. Needed it.

[ Another kiss to the head. ]

There’s no rush, okay guy? As long as I’m here with you and you’re with me. You don’t have to worry.

[ Nudge, nudge. ]

Actually if you could tamp down the worry, that’d be pretty great. You’ve got enough shit to deal with without wondering if I… Hey. I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll take complicated with you over easy trails without you, you know? Any day of any month of any year.

That’s a Treavor Pendleton promise.

[ If Alice allows, he’ll take Alice’s hand carefully, almost deftly, and kiss the back of it once, then again, seeking Alice’s eyes after. ]

And I’m not gonna rush you. I don’t want to rush you.

I’ve got my Alice. That’s all that matters. Me and my beautiful guy.

A beautiful goddamn guy and his Bunny.