Work Text:
Breathe in. Out. In. Out. It was a slow, solemn marching of time that carried like a summer's breeze through the garage, settling in the air like a carmelized finish. Sickly calm and agonizingly still, Philip felt that it was he, and not Trevor that was losing time. An insensitive, intrusive thought probably called forth by his agitation and boredom. He held on eye slightly open, watching Trevor breathe. In. Out. In. The younger body opened one eye. Out. He smiled, causing Philip to smile back. In. Their knees were touching. It was comfortable. Out. He couldn't take it anymore.
"It's not working." Philip said, exasperated.
"If it's not working, it's because you're not focused." Philip's eyes studied Trevor. His entire being in a gentle scrutiny.
"Believe me, man, I'm focused."
As if by a jinx, another timeline begged for his attention.
Him, sitting on the couch, sobbing. Trevor was gone. Trevor was dead and never coming back. The old man lived his last life and left him all alone. He died and abandoned him. His heart broke and the pieces scattered. Then, with a snap of Trevor's fingers, he was back again, tears threatening to fall.
"Are you okay?" Trevor asked.
"I don't think so, Trev."
"What can I do?" Instead of answering, Philip pulled himself onto his knees and crawled over to him, wrapping his arms around Trevor's neck and burying his face into his shoulder.
"Nothing." He whispered into the fabric there. "Don't do anything. Don't go anywhere."
"Phil..." Trevor pulled away from him, his eyes searching, scavenging for a shred of logic in between them. A treasure hunt of sanity began and ended moments. Their lips celebrated by seeking eachother out, pressing together in a chaste kiss. They purely needed it. Both of them.
Philip pulled away first, if only for the irrational fear of traumatizing Poppy. In response, Trevor stood, offering the other boy his hand silently. Every word in every language was spoken between them, and no words left at all. Philip kept waiting for the reality to disappear and Trevor kept waiting to snap out of it, to be still sitting on the ground, alone. But they were real. And happening. And in Philip's bedroom.