[“Oh” is far too ambiguous to be very comforting, and the stretch of silence that follows—even if he knows that Alec is trying to parse what he’s just said—is like a knife slipping in centimeters at a time as the seconds tick, tick, tick onwards. And again, that ugly feeling writhes, and again, he thinks to himself, Maybe I should have said nothing at all. Even if it was the truth, and even if he knows that truth will never change.
Any response would be better than none at this point. He almost breaks the silence himself, but when Alec finally speaks—Me too—suddenly all of his words stumble over each other, and never leave his mouth. Save for one:]
—really?
[It's all he can manage right now. Henry would have been fine (no, he would have been happy) with remaining close, remaining connected with Alec even if he received nothing more than solidarity in return, with stints of sated lust in-between. Even if what he felt was utterly one-sided, it would have been better than anything he’s ever had before. (He would not have been alone.)
But to have this reciprocated, even half as much? It is nice to finally feel wanted. It’s deliriously the best-case scenario, but it stuns him all the same.]
no subject
Any response would be better than none at this point. He almost breaks the silence himself, but when Alec finally speaks—Me too—suddenly all of his words stumble over each other, and never leave his mouth. Save for one:]
—really?
[It's all he can manage right now. Henry would have been fine (no, he would have been happy) with remaining close, remaining connected with Alec even if he received nothing more than solidarity in return, with stints of sated lust in-between. Even if what he felt was utterly one-sided, it would have been better than anything he’s ever had before. (He would not have been alone.)
But to have this reciprocated, even half as much? It is nice to finally feel wanted. It’s deliriously the best-case scenario, but it stuns him all the same.]