[He thinks, maybe, that Alec does not quite understand the full depth of the sway he holds over him. Henry might always dig his feet in, courtesy of his controlling nature, but at this point? He will consistently bend a little more to Alec; always give more leeway than he would ever think about giving anyone else.
But even if he did realize it, he still believes him: Alec would not take advantage of it. Only in the bedroom would he command him, or pull at his hair, or dominate him completely — and only because Henry somehow, insanely, likes it. Otherwise? His agency is still his own.
And that makes him feel… something unquantifiable. Something he cannot hold up and compare to another sentiment, because he’s not quite sure he’s ever felt it before.]
Only like this. [He echoes in a murmur, and his fingers are suddenly less languid about unbuttoning Alec’s pants, undoing the zipper and freeing up the fabric around his hips. He tugs it downward, gentle.]
no subject
But even if he did realize it, he still believes him: Alec would not take advantage of it. Only in the bedroom would he command him, or pull at his hair, or dominate him completely — and only because Henry somehow, insanely, likes it. Otherwise? His agency is still his own.
And that makes him feel… something unquantifiable. Something he cannot hold up and compare to another sentiment, because he’s not quite sure he’s ever felt it before.]
Only like this. [He echoes in a murmur, and his fingers are suddenly less languid about unbuttoning Alec’s pants, undoing the zipper and freeing up the fabric around his hips. He tugs it downward, gentle.]