reverie⚡inbox

[striketwice]

REVERIE INBOX "THIS IS ALEC. MAKE IT QUICK." ⚡ voice . text . action ↳ OVERFLOW | REGISTRY

( code from supersuits )

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[vecna]

[Surprise.]

She's been sitting on the idea for a while. I knew beforehand; her Shadow told me when I ran into it, sometime after you helped me with mine.

[Henry tactically keeping information to himself is a very him thing to do. Now he just wonders if he held onto it for too long, or not long enough.]

I probably shouldn't have said anything at all.

[striketwice]

That's not the part I'm stuck on.

[ Not even the part about her Shadow. Alec is a master of keeping shit to himself for various reasons. Henry's free to do the same, especially because none of that pertains to Alec at all. Or so he thought. ]

It's the part where she feels like she failed for losing some competition I didn't even know we were having.

[vecna]

[Oh. Well. How funny, then. (Not really "funny" at all.) Alec hones in on the one part that rankled Henry a bit.

He offers him that faux smile.]

Well. Apparently, I'm an achievement to either succeed or fail at. Congratulations, Alec.

[striketwice]

[ He rolls his eyes, moving to sit up a little straighter on the couch instead of the half-slouch, half-sprawl thing he has going on. ]

We both know that's bullshit. If you'd told me she was just disappointed over potentially not seeing you again, I'd get it.

[ But feeling like a failure? Who thinks like that?

His eyes flick over Henry's face. ]

What'd to tell her? After all that, I mean.

[vecna]

[He knows it’s bullshit. And maybe that’s not how she actually meant it. But if Henry chooses to dwell on the idea for too long—though, pointedly, he does not—the reason why it bothers him would crystallize. The way it makes him feel more like One again, just a parameter defined by performance, rather than Henry.]

I said it didn’t change anything. And that she did aid me in her own way, if that mattered so much.

[Though it felt like handing out consolation prizes, for how much good it did.]

It didn't help.

[striketwice]

[ Oh, but it does bother Alec. Possibly moreso than Henry because he doesn't have all the context, because he doesn't know Sprezzatura well enough to give her the grace of assuming that's not what she meant. He frowns. ]

And this is a friendship you want to salvage, or-?

[vecna]

[He pauses. He can throw away so many acquaintances with ease, thinking nothing of them, but there are a few in this place that stick like burs. And a rarer few that he would particularly not like to lose.]

I can count on my fingers how many people I've ever felt close to. People I've felt like I resonate with on a deeper level. You're one of them. ["Resonate" is maybe an understatement with Alec, but that's a different matter.] And so is she. But then again, so was Eleven. And that fell apart, too.

[So, you know, nothing new.]

So yes, it would be nice to salvage it, but I hardly know what else to tell her.

[striketwice]

Like I'd know where to start either. I'm usually better at making this kind of situation worse.

[ Personally, he doesn't see anything here worth salvaging, but far be it from Alec to tell Henry what he can and can't do. Some part of Alec has realized that he could probably ask just about anything of Henry and he'd do it, and that's something he's determined to never take advantage of. Alec uses people as easy as breathing, but not Henry. Never Henry. He's had enough of that. ]

But it sounds to me like the both of you could do with a couple days to sort out your thoughts.

[vecna]

[Henry’s far better at making things worse, too. He had to make an attempt to hold his tongue more than once, so maybe he’s simply not destined to provide people comfort. Kids, he can deal with. Their wants and needs are so easy to understand. But beyond that?

Opposite of Alec, Henry eases back to recline against the back of the couch. Honestly? All of this is just so… ridiculous.]

This is why I don’t like dealing with human relationships.

[Generally.]

[striketwice]

[ He breathes out something that could be a laugh. ]

Comes part and parcel with being human, my guy.

[vecna]

[don't laugh at his socially stunted wooooesss]

Maybe you've forgotten that I'm not exactly human anymore.

[Despite this body.]

[striketwice]

[ he'll laugh if he wants toooooooo ]

You're really gonna sit here and tell me this place hasn't changed you?

[vecna]

...No.

[Ugh.]

But it doesn't mean my preferences have been completely flipped around. You think I like being wrapped up in a web of complications? [No one likes that, Henry. Also, he's being hypocritical again for a man who hides so much.] I prefer it to be straightforward, like with you and me.

[striketwice]

No one likes being caught in a complicated situation, but I think it says something that you're at least trying to find a way to fix it.

[ He shrugs, content to leave it at that. Neither of them have ever been one for soul searching. Why dig deeper than that? ]

"Straightforward" is a nice way to put it. Mostly people just tell me I'm blunt. Or tactless. I get that one a lot.

[vecna]

[Absolutely no soul-searching when it comes to his own soul, at least. He is fine with letting the rest of it slide.]

That's not exactly what I mean, but yes. You are tactless a lot of the time.

[striketwice]

Et tu, Henry?

[ Another laugh. But more seriously: ]

In any case, just give it time. Sprezzatura is... a lot, I've noticed. But I do think her feelings of being a failure are all on her, and not anything you need to take responsibility for fixing.

[vecna]

[Listen, how many times has he called Alec "insufferable" in his head? He's only speaking the truth.]

I think I just believed that our friendship might have overridden any insecurities. [Naive of him, he supposes.] But if you say give it time, I'll give it time.

[Of course he'll take his advice.]

[striketwice]

[ If this whole thing comes down to insecurities, then he's honestly not sure if there's anything the likes of himself or Henry can do for Sprezzatura. For now, though, he'll keep that little thought to himself. ]

Anyway, sounds like you've got options now. You sure you still want to come back with me?

[vecna]

[The way his eyes snap over to Alec again, brow angled, is immediate. His response, just as much.]

What? Of course I'm sure. This doesn't change anything.

[Does Alec think it might have? Did he give him room to doubt? Or does he think he should reconsider? Oh, those are ugly thoughts, and they feel like nettle in his chest.]

I want you.

[That moment when you forget to use the words "to stay with" between "want" and "you" in your very pointed statement.]

[striketwice]

[ He's really not sure what he'd been fishing for with that question. Maybe he just wanted to see where Henry stood with regards to his very few connections.

In any case, the suddenness of that answer is not really a shock as much as it is a relief, one that Alec would otherwise be happy to never examine ever, but then Henry had to go and leave out some very key words in his next statement. ]

... Pardon?

[vecna]

[He nearly registers the slip-up as the words are forming on his tongue (or certain words aren’t), but it’s already too late, and that’s probably, definitely too much at once — even if it's the pure truth with all of the pretenses filed off.

And normally, Henry is cognizant enough to reel that back in, diffuse the degree of intensity he privately harbors. But if Alec felt relief at his immediate reply, he did not vocalize it, and this compels him to clarify. To double down, in case this does somehow slip away from him. He can’t allow that.]

I said I want you. [Let him hear it again, then.] It isn’t about which world I end up in, or what opportunities or freedoms exist for me there. It’s about the person, and I've chosen you, Alec.

I don’t want to be where you’re not.

[striketwice]

Oh.

[ Yes, "oh." Definitely not the best response he could give, and certainly not the only one he plans on giving, but he needs a moment. Surely Henry of all people must realize the absolute shock of being told in no uncertain terms that he's someone's choice.

There's that feeling again, sudden warmth squeezing around his chest, threatening to rob the breath from his lungs. Now that Henry's put the words are out there in some form, perhaps he's more willing to see that feeling for what it is. More willing to realize that he wants this — wants Henry — too. This place has really changed them both, hasn't it? For better or worse, he really can't say, but goddamn. It feels nice to be wanted.

It hits him in that moment that he's been awfully quiet, which is probably not doing great things for Henry in the wake of whatever the fuck just happened with Sprezzatura. He clears his throat. ]

Fuck, Henry. [ He could crack a joke, but just this once, he doesn't seem to want to. He keeps replaying that last bit in his head, I don’t want to be where you’re not. ] Me too.

[vecna]

[“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.]

[striketwice]

[ What does it say about the sorry state of them that they both struggle with the mere idea of being wanted? Needed? Nothing good, surely, though maybe that's why they gravitated to one another to begin with.

Alec breathes out an amused sound through his nose, the corner of his mouth quirking a little. What was it he'd said yesterday? It is what it is. And this is apparently what it is. Strangely, he can't seem to have any complaints. ]

Get over here and kiss me already, would you?

[ That's Alec-speak for "yes, really." ]

[vecna]

[The look on Alec’s face banishes the bulk of Henry’s disbelief, and the request eliminates whatever fragments might remain. What’s left is the sensation of all he’s kept neatly tucked away starting to unfurl, tendriling warmly in the pit of his chest, constricting in his throat. Let free, and it’s almost debilitating.

Almost.

For once, he does not perceive it as a command for his pride to balk at. His body practically moves on its own, and he manages to shift over to close the space between them, leans in with his forearm bracing himself against the back of the couch, and meets Alec’s lips with his own. He doesn’t care if it comes across as too eager. This encapsulates everything that he wants.]