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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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[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."

[atehimrightup]

“You fucker,” Lee says breathlessly, lips brushing George’s as he smiles. “I knew it was something.”

He’s never felt so elated in his life, but it only takes a few precious moments before the guilt creeps in. George loves a part of him, not all of him, and Lee knows that he should tell him and let him decide if the monster inside of him is something that George can come to accept.

He knows that he should, but George was right. He doesn’t have the balls.

But there is something that he can get off of his chest.

“I love you,” Lee admits, cradling George’s face in both hands and touching their foreheads together. “It’s obvious, right? Of course I love you.”

[gallowseyes]

George laughs at that and then, a moment later, his breath catches. Lee's right -- he'd been able to guess -- but hearing it said is a completely different thing.

"I love you," he says again, for the novelty,."And all I want is for you to ask for the things you want. Whether you feel that they are shameful or not."

[atehimrightup]

George is only the second person to say this to him. He can’t remember hearing it from either of his parents, can’t even imagine it, but Kayla has said it to him before. It always sounded vaguely disgruntled, like she loved him because she had to.

“You’re the first person who’s ever loved me on purpose,” he says in a quiet voice, wrapping his arms around George’s shoulders and kissing him again, nodding a little. “I’ll try, okay? I promise that I’ll try.”

[gallowseyes]

"I think you might be the first person who's said it to me and really meant it." There was Jenny, but they'd both been so young. Somerset had been trying to save his own neck. Who knew what James had really been thinking? He'd loved his cock, if nothing else. But Lee...

He takes another kiss.

"And what do you want?" He asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "My love."

[atehimrightup]

“I mean it. I’ve never meant anything more,” he says, pulling back enough to look at George’s face. He’s so beautiful that it’s absurd, and Lee— he just can’t believe that this is his life.

“I want to go back in time fifteen minutes and just suck on your finger instead of being a goddamn weirdo.” He huffs, looking a little embarrassed, but his expression softens as he thumbs at George’s cheek. “But then maybe you wouldn’t have said that.”

[gallowseyes]

"Maybe not," he concedes, because who knows where they might have ended up it his irritation hadn't flared up the way it had? It's all melted away now, anyway.

"It probably is still bleeding," he says, head tilted to one side. "If you wanted to try it."

[atehimrightup]

Lee makes a soft sound at that, a needy sort of whimper, and even now he feels the impulse to deny it and shake his head. But he doesn’t.

He lifts George’s hand and kisses the back of it, then reaches up with his other hand to start to carefully peel the bandage away. His fingers tremble a little and he swallows hard.

“What did you mean? When you said you have never felt like you did that night?” Lee asks almost timidly, inhaling as he gets the bandage off. He squeezes the pad of George’s finger and watches as blood wells up from the cut, hesitating for only a moment before he brings it to his mouth and drags his tongue over it, whimpering helplessly at the first taste, lashes fluttering before he forces his eyes open so he can watch George’s face.