21st_sacrament | alex/henry; more smooshy ageplay

Despite his attempts to be prepared for whatever Alex needed, something always caught him off guard. This was new ground, for the both of them, but it was different for Henry. He had been the one to consent to having all the responsibility shifted onto him when they played, he was in charge, and there was pressure, to keep Alex safe, to keep Alex happy.

Not that that wasn't the case normally, but the obligations changed. Instead he's bought coloring books, legos, and games for Alex to play with inside when he wasn't tumbling in the grass, climbing over Henry, determined to "win." Learned the foods he wouldn't eat, no matter how Henry tried to feed him. He's experienced everything from his brattiest moods to his silliest, hiding under pillows and blankets as still as can be as if he could trick Henry into ignoring the lump resting beneath them.

When Alex is in this headspace, he thinks about things differently, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. Henry's own thought processes shift too, from caretaker to full time guardian, as if this has always been a part of his life.

Yet he's caught off guard again when he hears Alex calling out for him, voice too small and shaken, has him tripping over the leg of his chair when he suddenly stands to go to him.

He'd been asleep for the later part of the afternoon and it was getting to be evening, the room beginning to dim. Flipping the light switch, he finds his sheets are tangled around Alex's legs, all the way up to his waist. The pillow wrapped tight in his arms instead of behind his head, Henry doesn't wait to be called again before he makes his way over, mattress dipping under his weight when he sits.

"I'm right here, see?"

A noise that's too tiny comes out of his throat before the pillow is abandoned, Alex curling up into his chest.

"Can you tell me what's wrong, Alexander?"

The full name helps sometimes, makes him feel a little bit more special, knows Henry only calls him that when he wants him to feel good. It takes a couple beats, his face is pressed against his skin but he hears him well enough.

"Bad dream."

"Tell me about it?"

His head shakes, hard, so Henry does what he knows, rubs a hand down his back. Eventually the head shaking subsides and Alex curls closer, arms wrapping around his sides tighter. He's afraid to know what Alex was dreaming about, knows he probably knows, but it's nothing less than pleasant. They're pretty horrifying things, like his own, from what he recalls. With the tight curl of the body around him, there's no doubt they had an effect, when Alex is this vulnerable and Henry isn't foolish enough to think he can protect him from this.

But he can do what he can.

Pulling back to kiss his forehead, looking into wide eyes watching him,

"Why don't you come into the living room with me, we'll take your pillows and blankets onto the couch and I'll put in a movie."

"...you gonna keep doing work?"

The thinly concealed hope makes his heart skip a beat.

"No. I'll watch it right there with you."