[ At first, nothing happens. Much like before, when Henry clung onto Alec's arms and he just let it happen, he just stands there, impassive, letting Henry kiss him.
And then, by slow degrees, the yawning void in him begins to fill. The darkness comes first. All of the anger, all of the hate, all of the grief and the loathing. A storm the color of pitch now caught again in the cage of his ribs after having it pulled out of him. He promised Henry, didn't he? Promised him he would always stay angry, and he'd lost that. Lost it.
The rest follows. The delicate, shimmering glass of his true self, his true desires. The inexplicable love and the companionship and the acceptance. The need to always do right by a father long dead, and the rigid set of personal rules that keep him on that path.
Coming back to himself feels like rising out of a dream and plunging into frigid water all at once, and the breath is robbed from his lungs. He gasps, suddenly, against the insistence of Henry's lips, and the stark reality of the last few hours hit him hard. If he'd been forced to be that thing for any longer than that... fuck. No he doesn't want to think about it.
And how can he? When Henry is here, holding onto him, trying so hard to bring him back? Fuck, he almost lost this too, didn't he?
After what feels like a small eternity but has surely lasted no more than a mere moment, Alec's hands come up suddenly to curl tightly into the fabric of Henry's shirt, to pull him close and keep him there while he leans in to fervently, desperately, kiss him back. ]
no subject
And then, by slow degrees, the yawning void in him begins to fill. The darkness comes first. All of the anger, all of the hate, all of the grief and the loathing. A storm the color of pitch now caught again in the cage of his ribs after having it pulled out of him. He promised Henry, didn't he? Promised him he would always stay angry, and he'd lost that. Lost it.
The rest follows. The delicate, shimmering glass of his true self, his true desires. The inexplicable love and the companionship and the acceptance. The need to always do right by a father long dead, and the rigid set of personal rules that keep him on that path.
Coming back to himself feels like rising out of a dream and plunging into frigid water all at once, and the breath is robbed from his lungs. He gasps, suddenly, against the insistence of Henry's lips, and the stark reality of the last few hours hit him hard. If he'd been forced to be that thing for any longer than that... fuck. No he doesn't want to think about it.
And how can he? When Henry is here, holding onto him, trying so hard to bring him back? Fuck, he almost lost this too, didn't he?
After what feels like a small eternity but has surely lasted no more than a mere moment, Alec's hands come up suddenly to curl tightly into the fabric of Henry's shirt, to pull him close and keep him there while he leans in to fervently, desperately, kiss him back. ]