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[gallowseyes]

His day, not to put too fine a point on it, has gone to shit. He'd slipped out of the apartment nearly to go and ride and had been thrown. Thankfully, he'd been on sand, so the bruising is minimal, but the stiffness in his shoulder has lingered all day. He'd gone to do some session work -- cello, not viola de Gamba, which means the instrument, whole familiar, feels less like a part of him. The fingering of the part has been complicated, and he'd managed to break his bow and had to use a spare.

At least he'd been paid.

By the time he lets himself into his apartment, he's in a foul mood but, when he opens the door, he instantly knows that someone else is home.

"Lee?"

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[atehimrightup]

Even when they’re apart, they tend to text a lot. Lee could tell from George’s increasingly stilted answers that his day wasn’t going well, and he found himself wanting to fix it.

He probably can’t, but he can help end it on a high note.

After a quick trip to the grocery store, Lee lets himself into George’s apartment with the key he’d been given, and puts on some music while making himself at home in the kitchen. He likes cooking, always has, but he never really had access to a working kitchen and a variety of ingredients. Since coming to Darrow, he’s tried to learn more.

Tonight, he’s trying a recipe for butter chicken. He knows that George likes it, and it might have been wiser to just pick up some from a restaurant, but Lee really wanted to make it himself.

When the door opens, Lee turns the music down and pops his head out of the kitchen to look toward the front door, smiling at the sight of George. “Hi.”

[gallowseyes]

The apartment smells delicious and George feels himself relax slightly just at the sight of Lee. He bends to unlace his boots and slips out of them and then pads through into the kitchen.

"Look at you," he teases gently. "So domestic."

[atehimrightup]

“Fuck you,” Lee says with a jovial laugh, though his cheeks flush the tiniest bit. He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer, using the ring on his thumb to pop the lid off before setting it on the end of the counter close to George.

Once his boots are off, Lee approaches him and cradles his jaw, once again appreciating how close they are in height. They can always look each other in the eye.

He draws him in for a soft kiss and wraps his arms around George’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. “I got the feeling you could use a nice night in.”

[gallowseyes]

"I could," admits George, curling his arm around Lee's shoulders and keeping him close for a moment, taking another kiss. He winces when he lowers his arm, rotating the shoulder. It's the one he dislocated that day on the hunt, the day before the first time James came looking for him in the night.

"It's just been one fucking thinking after another."

[atehimrightup]

Lee catches the wince and furrows his brow, subtly inhaling as he pulls back to look at George. There’s something off about the way he smells. Not like he’s sick, but maybe like he’s in pain. It makes Lee’s nostrils flare and he puts a hand on George’s chest.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, watching intently as George rotates his shoulder. “What happened? Did you fall off of a horse?”

He’s joking, but then he looks at George’s face. “Holy shit, did you fall off of a horse?”

[gallowseyes]

"Onto sand, at a trot," says George, waving off the suddenly concerned look on Lee's face. "It's just that I dislocated this shoulder years ago..." He immediately throws up his hands in a placating shoulder. "It's not dislocated. It just aches -- the fall plus playing all day."

[atehimrightup]

“So no jerking me off tonight, is what you’re saying,” Lee jokes, obviously teasing. He kisses George again and squeezes his hips before stepping away, grabbing a ziploc bag and opening the freezer to fill it with ice.

“Here,” he says, patting an empty spot on the counter next to the stove and gesturing for George to hop up before handing over the bag. “You can ice it and keep me company while I finish dinner.”

[gallowseyes]

"I'm inventive. I'll make it work." George hops up on the counter, accepting the bag of ice and pressing it to his aching shoulder. It's another modern marvel, and he's grateful.

"What is for dinner? It smells delicious."

[atehimrightup]

“Butter chicken,” Lee says proudly, lifting the lid off of the simmering pot to stir it, releasing steam and more of the spicy aroma into the air. “I wanted to try making it myself.”

He wanted to impress George, wanted to make him happy. He knows he doesn’t have to work to try and keep George’s affections, and that somehow he has them regardless. He’s just doing it because he wants to.

“I’ve got rice and naan warming over there.” He gestures with the spoon and then replaces the lid on the pot, glancing at the timer. It still has a ways to go, so Lee grabs the beer he opened and takes a swig before handing it to George, stepping between his knees to reach up and hold the ice so he can have a free hand.

[gallowseyes]

George can't help the bright, unguarded grin that spreads across his face at that. What he likes about Lee is that he pays attention, gives all of these little hints that he's been listening, that he cares. It's a novelty for anyone to really care what George actually wants.

He takes the beer and takes a month swallow, hand on the arm under the ice curling around Lee's hip.

"God," he says. "You're lovely." It isn't entirely what he means to say.

[atehimrightup]

Lee blushes at that, pleased by not only the sudden compliment but how honest it is. Between that and the happy grin on George’s face, it feels a little like he might melt into a puddle.

“The benefits of giving me a key,” he says with a soft chuckle, leaning in and curling his hand loosely around the back of George’s neck to pull him in for a long, lingering kiss, resting their foreheads together once it’s over.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty day,” he says softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I want to make it better.”

[gallowseyes]

"There are many benefits to having given you a key," says George who likes it best when he's gone to bed alone and wakes up with Lee somehow beside him.

"You already did, just by being here. The fact that dinner also smells delicious and there's cold beer? All extra."

[atehimrightup]

Lee grins so hard that it makes his cheeks ache with the unfamiliarity of it. Nobody has ever been able to make Lee smile like George can, never in his life.

“Hm, well. We’ve also got about—“ He paused to lean away and look at the timer on the stove— “twelve minutes until the food’s done.”

Lee reaches up to tap his chin in playful thought, pursing his lips in a soft pout to draw attention to his mouth. “I wonder what we could do in twelve minutes.”

[gallowseyes]

It's rare for him to wake up before Lee. Usually, he stirs to the sound of Lee already in the kitchen or in the shower or, sometimes, already installed on the couch with a mug at his elbow and whatever he's reading in his lap. That morning, though, Lee is still asleep, curled on his side, dark hair tousled across his face. Propping himself up on his elbow, George brushes his hair back and jeans down to kiss the bridge of his nose.

[atehimrightup]

Lee isn’t sure that he’s ever slept so hard in his life. He always sleeps better next to George but this time it feels slightly as if he was put into a coma. It’s glorious.

He starts to come aware due to a tickle on his nose and he wrinkles it, groaning as he turns onto his side and stretches his legs out, smacking his lips a little and still not opening his eyes.

[gallowseyes]

"You're not dead, then," says George, grinning, bending to press light kisses to Lee's forehead and cheeks. He settles back down next to him. "I'll admit, I was starting to feel somewhat concerned."

[atehimrightup]

“Mm, jury’s still out,” Lee murmurs, keeping his eyes closed and trying his best not to smile as George kisses his face.

“Now you know how I feel every morning,” he murmurs, rolling onto his back again and finally blinking his eyes open. “I can’t believe how hard you sleep.”

He looks over at George, soft and sleepy eyed in the morning light, and feels his heart flip over in his chest. “Hi.”

[gallowseyes]

"I'm used to sleeping in rooms full of light and noise and people coming and going. And it was always fucking cold." He gives Lee a bright, genuine smile of his own, reaching out with his free hand to cradle the side of his face.

"Hi."

[atehimrightup]

“Ugh, I could never. I can’t have people near me while I sleep,” Lee replies in a sleepy croak. He feels a little cranky, but that all melts away when George gives him a toothy smile and reaches for him.

Lee smiles back and shifts his hips as he rolls to the side, immediately hissing and rolling back again, reaching up to playfully knock George’s hand away.

“Ugh, don’t touch me.” He laughs and rolls onto his stomach, burying his red face into the pillow. “My ass hurts.”

[gallowseyes]

"I have no idea why that could possibly be the case," says George, as blandly as he can manage, though he can't suppress a slight smirk, reaching out to trail his fingers down Lee's spine. "How strange."

[atehimrightup]

“Definitely not because some well hung animal decided that he needed to put something bigger than his giant dick inside me,” he says as he turns his head to the side, looking up to see George’s smirk and reaching up to push him back by the face.

It’s not that bad, really. He’s tender is all, but George definitely isn’t putting anything inside him today. That’s for sure.

“Where’s that lotion?” He asks with a groan, shifting up onto his elbows. “That might help.”

[gallowseyes]

George laughs when Lee shoves him backwards.

"You make it sound monstrous," he says, rolling over to rummage in his bedside cabinet and produce the aforementioned lotion. "It really isn't."

He opens the cap, squirting some onto his fingers and raising a questioning eyebrow.

[atehimrightup]

“You’re a freak of nature,” Lee replies flatly, turning his head and trying to find the energy to sit up, but he looks over to see George putting the lotion on his own fingers instead. It makes Lee go pink under the freckles on his nose, but he doesn’t say no. He loves the casual intimacy between them, so he kicks off the sheets and spreads his legs, hissing a bit.

He’s only felt this particular sensation once or twice before, and only after terrible experiences. Usually it was wrapped up in embarrassment and shame and despair, and he swallows hard as he reminds himself that there’s no need for any of that here. He’s okay. He’s safe, and nothing happened that he didn’t want. Still, he wasn’t expecting the memories it would dredge up.

“Be gentle,” Lee warns, twisting to look over his shoulder. “No funny business or I will punch you in the balls.”

[gallowseyes]

"Please don't," says George, mildly, waiting for Lee to arrange himself. Once he does, he leans in and presses a kiss to his shoulder before he shifts, spreading his arse with one hand thumb applying cream, gently, with the other.

"There."

[atehimrightup]

Lee goes rigid as George spreads him open, hissing at that first touch of his thumb. The lotion burns at first, but then cools enough to provide some relief. He closes his legs again, crossing his ankles and taking a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he says warmly, still blushing a little as he rolls back onto his side so he can see George’s face.

“You barely even look smug,” he teases, scooting a bit closer. “So unlike you.”