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[gallowseyes]

He's only trying to help. He's still not able to cook more than eggs and toast successfully on his own without supervision, but he likes trying to help when Lee is cooking. He's chopping the ingredients for a salad when he slips, the knife biting into the side of his finger. He drops it, helping, immediately bringing his hand up to his mouth. It's not a big wound, but it's deep and the blood wells up scarlet.

"Fuck."

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[gallowseyes]

There's a strange look on Lee's face right then, and it takes George a moment to put it together, especially with his hand throbbing like that.. Thankfully, he's never been squeamish about the sight of his own blood.

"So it's always a thing for you," he says, honestly glad of the distraction. "Blood, I mean."

[atehimrightup]

George says it so plainly and Lee feels a prickling flush run down from the crown of his head, belly twisting with shame. He knows what George is thinking, and he’s not entirely wrong.

He doesn’t want George to think that Lee gets off on seeing him in pain.

“Come on, you’re hurt,” Lee says as he presses the wadded paper towel to George’s hand. “Put some pressure on this and I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

[gallowseyes]

He takes the paper towel, pressing it against his hand, applying steady pressure, watching Lee as he blushes, as something unreadable flickers through his eyes. "People have lived almost normal lives with wounds like this," he says. "And you? Are avoiding the question."

[atehimrightup]

“I dunno. We may have to amputate,” Lee says, hoping they can fall into banter and move on, but of course that doesn’t happen. George calls him out on it and Lee pauses, stiffening for a moment before continuing on and grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“I just don’t know what to say,” he admits, swallowing hard and returning to the kitchen. George needs to wash his hand, but even now the thought of his blood being washed down the sink instead of going inside him makes him want to trash and howl.

“I don’t ever want to see you get hurt,” Lee tells him, because that much is absolutely true. He steps closer and reaches toward George’s arm, then stops and twists instead to turn on the sink. “But yes, the sight of your blood does something to me, okay? There, I answered it. Now can you wash your damn hands, please?”

Before he does something insane like drop to his knees and suckle at George’s fingers before any more precious drops of life spill onto the floor in a waste that feels almost catastrophic.

[gallowseyes]

George moves to the sink, turning on the tap and holding his bleeding finger under the cold water, watching the blood sluice away. He glances back at Lee, head tilted on one side. "We've only done that once, properly. You've bitten me, but..." He frowns. "Only once. WIth the razor."

[atehimrightup]

Lee makes a bit of a strangled noise as George washes the blood away, feeling ashamed and kind of pathetic. It feels like he’s dying of thirst and watching the only water for miles get dumped down the drain. He leans back against the counter and grips the edges, fingertips digging into the grout.

He’s so distracted that it takes him a beat to register what George is saying and Lee blinks, cheeks flushed. He thinks about that night all the time.

“I know. I— and I really liked it,” Lee admits, staring at a point somewhere near George’s collarbone. It seems safer than his face or his still bleeding hand. “Can I just bandage that up please?”

[gallowseyes]

George doesn't miss the reaction, the way that Lee all but clings to the counter as he washes his hands, as the blood turns pink and watery on his skin.

"You've never asked to do it again," says George, drying his hands carefully and then holding his hand out to Lee, eyebrows still raised. "And, yes, you can banadge it."

[atehimrightup]

“You never offered,” Lee counters simply, not quite understanding why George is bringing this up now. Yes, Lee is acting like a weirdo, but he can contain it. He’s doing a pretty good job at containing it, he thinks.

At least he was until George holds out his hand and Lee looks at his bloody finger in way that’s very similar to how he looks at George’s cock when it’s hard and bobbing in his face. He can feel his mouth watering, so he turns away to grab a bandage, fingers shaking slightly as he tears it open.

[gallowseyes]

He sees that look on Lee's face, and he's seen it enough times to know exactly what it means. He holds his hand still while Lee digs through the first aid, looking for a bandage. "I wasn't aware you needed a written invitation," he says. "You're usually good at telling me what you're going to do to me."

[atehimrightup]

Lee huffs and furrows his brow, shaking his head a little and reaching out to grab George’s hand. The pressure makes another bead of blood well up and Lee covers it with the bandage, wrapping it around his finger and covering the wound.

“I’m not going to just do that to you, George,” he says firmly, shaking his head again and letting go of him to lean back against the counter. The whole kitchen smells like blood and cooked meat and Lee is so fucking hungry.

[gallowseyes]

"I'm not saying you should just do it," he says, examining the bandage before he folds his arms across his chest. "I'm saying you're allowed to ask for things you like. The biting." He pauses. "The blood."

[atehimrightup]

“I do ask before I bite you,” Lee says defensively, crossing his arms in a mirror of George’s pose. “Before I do it hard. Don’t I always ask?”

He suddenly looks very worried. He does, doesn’t he?

[gallowseyes]

"I know you do, but you didn't, for a long time," says George, and he's very aware that Lee is on the defensive, arms folded across his chest, still backed up against the counter. "And you never, ever ask for the other, but I've just seen your face, right then, and it's like the only thing you've ever wanted."

[atehimrightup]

Lee’s cheeks darken further at learning he was so obvious, jaw working as he turns his head to the side.

“It’s your blood,” Lee says with an awkward shrug. “If you want to offer it to me, I’m happy to accept it. But it’s yours.”

Finally, he looks at George again. “It feels like too much to ask for, and I’m happy. I’m perfectly happy with what I get from you, George.”

[gallowseyes]

He hates when Lee avoids looking at him like that, and he's relieved when he looks back at him. Still, irritation flares up inside him at what Lee says, how cowed he looks when he says it.

"How would you feel?" asks George, his tone just a little sharp. "If there was this one thing I wanted, something that got me off so hard, but I never had the balls to ask you for it."

[atehimrightup]

That— well, that stings. Lee looks wounded for a second before shuddering his expression, brows furrowed slightly.

“Maybe I would offer it to you,” Lee says after a moment, gritting his teeth together. “Is that what you think? That I’m a coward for not wanting to ask if I can drain the life from your veins?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Fine, I’m a pussy, I guess.”

[gallowseyes]

"Christ. The life from my veins? And you say I'm dramatic."

He shakes his head. "I didn't realise how much it affected you until right now. And I'm saying that you're allowed to ask for things, Lee. You don't have to just be grateful for scraps."

[atehimrightup]

Lee lets out a laugh that comes out more like a sob, because George doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it and Lee knows it isn’t his fault. He thinks that they’re just talking about some weird kink Lee has. To George, this seems like a simple problem, one easily resolved. Lee has no one to blame but himself.

“Scraps? Are you calling what we do scraps? Jesus, George.” Lee reaches up to scrub his hands over his face. “I do ask for things!” He draws his shoulders up, hands held up at his sides. “I asked you not to let anyone else fuck you.”

[gallowseyes]

"You know I'm not," says George, his tone snappish. "So don't do that." A muscle ticks in his jaw. "And you barely ask for the biting. I virtually have to cajole you into it every time. Are you ashamed of it? Is that it?"

[atehimrightup]

“Yes,” Lee says incredulously, raising his voice a little. He so rarely ever raises his voice. “Is that not plainly fucking obvious? I’m very ashamed of it.”

He sucks in a shuddering breath. “I’m deeply ashamed of the things I need sometimes, George. Always have been.”

[gallowseyes]

George has never really understood the concept of shame, not when it comes to sex. He's been ashamed of himself, occasionally, but never because of something he's wanted to do with another adult who wanted it too.

"You don't have to be ashamed with me," he says. "I... Jesus Christ, you have to know that there's nothing I wouldn't give you."

[atehimrightup]

“My shame has nothing to do with you,” Lee tells him, leaning back against the counter and letting his shoulders sag helplessly.

“Call me dramatic all you want but blood is a big deal to me.” He swallows and looks up at George, sighing heavily. “It’s— it’s precious and asking for it is hard, okay?”

He reaches out and touches his fingertips to George’s chest. “You never said anything. I guess I thought that we tried it and you weren’t that into it. And I’ve told you that I don’t want you doing anything solely for my benefit.”

[gallowseyes]

"There's hard and there's never asking at all," he says, covering Lee's hand with his and holding it to his chest. "And it felt..." His dark eyebrows draw together in a frown. "Like something you'd need to ask for. Like me and the collar, I suppose. It didn't feel like something I should suggest, only give to you, because..." He shrugs, that muscle in his jaw ticking. "Because I fucking love you. And I've never felt like I did that night with the razor, not with anyone in the world."

[atehimrightup]

George mentions his collar and Lee blinks because, well, that’s a very good point that he’s completely unable to argue against. His throat works as he processes that, and then George wrecks him entirely.

It’s a such a simple phrase, three little words, but Lee feels a little like someone has just taken a sledgehammer to his chest. His eyes well up with tears and he gapes at George for a long moment, breath stuck in his chest.

“I— what?” Even though he had suspected that they were on the same page, or at least reading the same book, he tried not to let himself imagine this. Lee stares at him, wide-eyed and trembling, and then reaches up to grab him by the back of his neck and press a hard, desperate kiss to his mouth, like he can lick the taste of those words from it.

[gallowseyes]

Lee kisses him, hungry and desperate, and George answers in mind, one arm around Lee's waist to drag him closer. When they come up for air, he smudges his nose against Lee's.

"I love you," he says, again. "I've been saying it in French for weeks."