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Trevor gaped at him. "I'm what?"
Alucard did not look at him; he couldn't quite bear to look at him right now. "Please don't act like you didn't hear me. We both know perfectly well that you did."
"I heard you, but that doesn't mean your words made any fucking sense." Trevor dragged a hand through his hair. "You think I'm in love with Sypha?"
Alucard scoffed lightly. "Please. It's obvious. And I know you're dense, Belmont, but even you can't be that—"
The rest of his sentence vanished, swallowed up by Trevor's mouth on his and Trevor's fists clenching at his shirt. It was messy and desperate, and Alucard found himself responding in kind, thanks to some combination of instinct and his own fruitless yearning.
Well, perhaps not as fruitless as he'd previously thought.
When Trevor pulled back, it was with a soft curse, and he didn't relinquish his hold on Alucard's shirt. Alucard, for his own part, felt as though his world had been turned on its head.
It took him a few seconds to gather his scattered thoughts and form a coherent sentence. "It seems there is a chance I have misread some things."
Trevor snorted. "And you called me dense." He shook Alucard, just a little. "Have I made it clear enough for you now?"
Alucard cleared his throat. "No, you really haven't. I think I could use another demonstration."
"You're a bastard," Trevor said, but he kissed Alucard again anyway.