(no subject)

[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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[gallowseyes]

"You're not a bad person," says George, softly, his hand stroking over Lee's bare skin. He can't help but think about how many times Lee's told him he wants to be good. "I've met bad people. I was raised by one, I think. And you could never be that."

[atehimrightup]

Lee wants it to be true so badly. He wants to believe George, even though he doesn’t know the truth. But then again, Lee gave him enough to have his imagination running wild, and nothing George could come up with is enough to make him hesitate. That means something, he thinks. It gives him the tiniest flicker of something like hope.

“I’m glad you think so,” Lee says after a few moments of thoughtful silence, pulling back enough to be able to kiss George softly on the mouth.

He smiles and presses their foreheads together, huffing an amused breath. “Apparently being fisted makes me weepy and introspective.”

[gallowseyes]

"That would appear to be the case," says George, gently teasing, brushing a kiss against the tip of Lee's nose. "You are very pretty when you cry, though. It makes your eyes look extraordinary."

[atehimrightup]

Lee feels a little embarrassed, which seems to happen so easily around George, but it gets easier to brush off every time. He doesn’t have to worry about so much with George. He can show his underbelly, and it’s okay.

“Oh, is that right?” He asks with a soft laugh, reaching up to drag his fingers through George’s hair, gazing at him adoringly. “Well, I think that you’re very pretty all the time.”

[gallowseyes]

"And you've never been seen me cry," says George, brushing his thumb over the flush chasing across Lee's cheekbone. George can't remember the last time he cried. In the early days in France, probably? He'd decided a long time ago that it just wasn't going to get him anywhere.

[atehimrightup]

“I wouldn’t be able to stand it,” Lee replies lightly, as if the beauty of it would be too much for him. But there are much bigger reasons for Lee not wanting to see George cry.

“I didn’t used to, either. And now look what you’ve done.” He smiles again, fingertips tracing along George’s jaw. “It’s nice, y’know. Having someone you can cry in front of. Even if it’s embarrassing.”

[gallowseyes]

"I'm glad I'm that person for you," he says and means it, utterly. He hasn't been blind to the way that Lee has softened, in the time that they've been together. It's been a lovely thing to watch. "I don't think anyone in my life has known me as well as you."

[atehimrightup]

“I’m only just beginning,” Lee says softly, and then it’s his turn to guide George’s head down enough for Lee to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “I want to know all there is to know.”

He wraps his arms around George’s shoulders and hauls him back down into the bed, this time switching their positions so that Lee is on his back with George’s head on his chest.

“Will you play for me sometime?” Lee finds himself asking, carding his fingers through George’s soft hair. “Your cello. I want to hear you play.”

[gallowseyes]

George makes a soft, contented sound as Lee rearranges them, settling down with his head on Lee's chest, his fingers idly tracing against his bare skin.

"Of course," he says. "Or the Gamba. They sound different. And the bowing is different too." He'd been so pleased when he'd managed to track down a slightly battered viola de Gamba from an antiques dealer. He was decent on the cello, but it wasn't his instrument. Not really.

[atehimrightup]

“The Gamba is what you played back home, right?” Lee asks as he kisses the top of George’s head, fingertips gliding up and down his back. “That’s what I want to hear, then.”

He smirks to himself and presses his mouth to the crown of George’s head, squeezing him close and playfully tickling his side. “Be honest. Did you just pick whatever instrument you could straddle?”

[gallowseyes]

George laughs at that, warm and unguarded, squirming against Lee a little as he tickles him.

"Yes," he says. "That's exactly why I picked it." He rolls his eyes. "It's a beautiful sound. Sweet, a little ready, melancholy." He smiles. "The cello is nice, and I definitely get more work from it, but it's not the same."

[atehimrightup]

He laughs as George squirms, then smooths his hand over the curve of his ribs. He’s not sure that he’ll ever get used to how good it feels to simply hold George in his arms like this, knowing he’s warm and safe, smelling healthy and seemingly happy.

“Mm, sounds like someone else I know,” Lee murmurs against George’s forehead, nuzzling into his hair and inhaling slowly. He always smells so good, but especially so in moments like this. “I excited to hear it. Pick something nice for me.”

[gallowseyes]

"You surely can't mean now?" says George, because he honestly think he'd do anything for Lee, give him anything that it's in his power to provide, but he's also warm and comfortable and weary in a well fucked sort of way.

[atehimrightup]

“Yes. Hop to, darling,” Lee says in George’s accent, giving his ass a light smack that’s more of a fond pat. He laughs and wraps both his arms more tightly around George, giving him a squeeze.

“Not now, dummy,” he says in his normal voice, chuckling fondly. “If you try to get out of this bed, I will fight you.”

[gallowseyes]

"Shut up," he says, but it's entirely fond. He stays burrowed in close against Lee, warm and content, one arm draped across his waist, rolling the gold ring on his index finger against pale skin. "I think I could be quite content living in this bed. We'd need to surface for food, but I think we could make it work."

[atehimrightup]

“It might get smelly after while,” Lee muses, lifting George’s hand from his side and pressing a kiss to his palm. He touches the ring on George’s index finger, turning it once before pulling it off and sliding it onto his own, holding his hand up to admire it curiously.

“And I have a very sensitive nose,” he says slyly, giving George a look like he knows something that George doesn’t. “But it might be worth it.”

He takes the ring off and slides it back onto George’s finger. “To never have to leave your side.”

[gallowseyes]

His head still against Lee's chest, George watches as Lee takes the ring off his finger and slides it onto his own. He's worn it for so long he can't actually remember where or when he got it. He'd be a loss to explain the avalanche that he feels when he sees it on Lee's finger, though. He draws in a slightly shivering breath.

"We should probably at least put on fresh sheets," he says.

[atehimrightup]

“Mm, maybe.” Lee stretches his arms over his head and squeezes George again, biting back a smile. “Do you want to take a bath?”

He presses a kiss to George’s hairline with a knowing smile. “I sort of see the appeal in them now.”

[gallowseyes]

George thinks about it for a split second, and then he nods, turning his head to press a kiss against his chest.

"I would. Like that. And another beer." He pushes up to a sitting position. "You want to run the bath and I'll raid the fridge?'

[atehimrightup]

“Yeah, I need something to eat. Can you bring me a beer and a protein bar?” He starts to sit up and then pauses. “And a banana.”

He slides off of the bed and gets onto his feet for the first time in several fuckings and then stumbles a bit at how tender he is, legs still feeling a little like jelly.

“Man, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow,” he says with a chuckle, stretching his arms over his head. “I expect you to stay here and wait on me hand and foot tomorrow.”

[gallowseyes]

"Your wish, my command," he says, grinning. He'd had some experience of that kind of service, as a Gentleman of the Bedchamber, after all.

On his way to the kitchen, he glances back.

"Hell, I'll do it naked and collared if it pleases you."

[atehimrightup]

“Oh, if it pleases me, huh?” Lee calls back with a laugh. “You’d make that sacrifice? Suffer through it just for me? How selfless.”

He’s grinning as he walks into the bathroom, and he does a bit of a double take when he sees his reflection in the mirror. His hair is rumpled, skin flushed and eyes red from crying. He looks like a mess, but he’s never looked so… soft.

After a moment he tears his gaze away, blinking rapidly and going over to fill up the tub, sitting on the edge of it and rolling his eyes as he reaches for the bubble bath.

[gallowseyes]

George laughs at he slips into the kitchen, retrieving beers and water, Lee's requested protein bar and a banana for each of them. Still naked as the day he was born, he pads back into the bathroom and sets things down on the edge of the tub.

"Ready?" he asks, and doesn't want to be told where Lee wants him, stepping into the steaming water.

[atehimrightup]

Lee is all cried out, he’s pretty sure, but when he turns his head to see George coming into the room, sleepy and naked and carrying food and water for them, something in his chest constricts, heart clenching like a fist behind his ribs.

It keeps hitting him over and over again. He’s never been this happy in his life.

Lee nods and grabs one of the bottles of water, sitting on the edge of the tub and chugging from it while reaching out to curl his hand around the inside of George’s thigh as he stands in the tub, squeezing once before letting go so George can sit down. He turns his head to look at George as he settles down into the frothy water.

“In a sec,” he says as he unwraps his protein bar, smirking faintly. “I’m enjoying the view.”

[gallowseyes]

George smiles at that, leaning back against the enamel of the tub as he peels a banana, breaking it into chunks and virtually inhaling it. He discards the skin and reaches for one of the open beers. "Take your time," he says. "No charge."