[For once since this entire clusterfuck nightmare hellscape and a million other descriptive words aside began, Alucard's brain is switched off. It'll come back in a few more minutes, inevitably (or else it won't and they'll be a perfect, glorious mess of limbs again), but for now he's squished between them both, all warmth and relaxation and feeling as if there has not been week after hideous week of stupid bullshit.
(He had tried to protest this at the start, because he's the one who should be doing all the kissing, they saved him and there's gratitude to show for it in all the ways they didn't get to do before, but. Dry spells. And natural reactions. And how good it all felt to not just be smothered in affection but taken aback by it.)
Trevor's chest is where his face is right now (comfy, right amount of muscle and fat, always has been, always will be). His hands are lazily wrapped around Sypha's waist because that part was unencumbered by annoying robes (he had gotten rid of all his clothes. Unfair.) A pile like they always are after this, warm and contented and whole.
no subject
(He had tried to protest this at the start, because he's the one who should be doing all the kissing, they saved him and there's gratitude to show for it in all the ways they didn't get to do before, but. Dry spells. And natural reactions. And how good it all felt to not just be smothered in affection but taken aback by it.)
Trevor's chest is where his face is right now (comfy, right amount of muscle and fat, always has been, always will be). His hands are lazily wrapped around Sypha's waist because that part was unencumbered by annoying robes (he had gotten rid of all his clothes. Unfair.) A pile like they always are after this, warm and contented and whole.
And there's just enough of him to be a jackass.]
Could've fooled me a moment ago.