[It’s warm and safe. It’s that strange paradox of secure vulnerability, tucked up against Alec like this. He can hear his heartbeat and feel it thrumming in his chest at an even tempo — counting the seconds as they quietly pass on by.
...Oh. It’s like a clock.
Alec speaks, and Henry blinks a bit owlishly as he’s pulled out of his thoughts.]
Of course I will. Look at how comfortable I’ve gotten, Alec.
[You wouldn’t boot this man out of your bed so soon, would you? He grins faintly. He doesn't want to move for a while yet.]
[Talk of the future brings excitement, as well as impatience. If only they could leave this prison now, go back to Alec’s world, start that new life that holds so much newfound freedom for him. But for now, they’ll have to make do with imagining it, and visiting his home city in his memories.]
I was wondering about that. You never did show me your bedroom.
[But Alec does not seem like the sort to keep a guest room ready for… guests, anyhow.]
[ Oh, absolutely not. Alec keeps most everything else decently neat, and he's a real stickler over a clean kitchen, but the bed? He never makes the bed. ]
I mean, it's probably not the worst thing you've ever seen.
[ Oh, he feels the way that embrace tightens in every fiber of his being. His heart practically throbs in response. God, he never wants to let this go. ]
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