(no subject)

[gallowseyes]

He wakes up slowly, in the comfortable bed and, for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. It isn't his childhood bed, for certain. It's too soft, the covers too comfortable and, more than that, someone's in it with him. At first, he thinks it must be John or Kit but, when he lifts his head, he sees tumbled dark curls and pale skin, the face turned away from him. He sits up suddenly, his hair slipping into his eyes, heart thumping in his chest.

"What the fuck is happening?" he asks, his voice trembling.
It is the strangest, most real dream.

Comments

[atehimrightup]

Lee used to be a very light sleeper. He would be fully awake at the first sign of anything amiss, but since living with George he’s been able to sleep more deeply. It’s not hard to figure out why.

That said, it takes him a few moments to realize the gravity of the situation. He’s still scrubbing at his face when the mattress suddenly jostles and he looks over to find George curled up against the headboard, looking frightened and so very young. Too young.

“Fuck,” Lee croaks out, shaking a few electric blue curls out of his face and then dragging his hand through his hair. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, George, I promise.”

[gallowseyes]

Two things hit him at once: that he's completely naked and that this man, whoever he is, knows his name. The accent is one he's never heard before, not at all unpleasant to his ear. The blue in the boy's hair is almost irridescent, like the flashes of colour of the wings of butterflies.

"Who are you?" he asks, trying to force his voice calm and level. "What manner of place is this?"

[atehimrightup]

The question hits Lee like a punch to the solar plexus and he freezes, color draining from his face. To have George look at him and not know him is an awful feeling. Honestly, he would have rather been shot.

His eyes sting and his chin wobbles and he had to take a breath and remind himself that this is temporary. This is something that happens in Darrow. George will come back. George will remember him again. He knows this, rationally. But it still hurts to look at the man he loves and see a complete lack of recognition.

“I’m Lee,” he begins, staring at George imploringly. He reaches out a hand like he’s going to put it on George’s knee through the sheets, but clears his throat and pulls it back at the last moment. “And this— it’s our home. You just don’t remember right now. I know you’re freaked out, but I promise you’re safe, okay?”

[gallowseyes]

Lee. The panic still claws at him, but then Lee tells him that he's safe and, somewhere inside him, George realises that he believes him. He draws in a shivery breath, and blinks but he does relax a little, though his arms stay wrapped around his knees.

"I don't understand," he says, a soft, plaintive note in his voice.

[atehimrightup]

Lee stares at him with a curious intensity that’s probably a little too much, but he can’t help it. He wonders how old George is right now. If Lee had to guess, it’s at least before he was sent away to France. This is George as an unpolished jewel, and he’s so, so beautiful.

“I know. I know you don’t. God, it’s so hard to explain,” Lee begins, shifting to sit cross legged on the bed, facing him. The sheet slips but Lee hurries to cover himself, clearing his throat and blushing. Mere hours ago, they were going at it like particularly horny bunnies. And now this.

“This place— it’s called Darrow. It’s a city, but not like one you’ve ever seen before. It exists outside of time and space as you know it,” Lee says, trying not to feel frustrated. This George won’t even know anything about science. It’s not like Lee can start talking about alternate dimensions. “We were brought here. Maybe— maybe by magic. You’re usually older, but this place messes with people sometimes.”

Lee blinks his stinging eyes and tries not to show how much George not knowing him destroys him, because that’s not important right now. He has to focus on George.

“It’s a magic spell,” he finally says, because it’s what George might understand. And hell, maybe it’s true. Not like Lee has any way of knowing. “But it won’t last forever. You’ll be alright, sweetheart. You will.”

[gallowseyes]

He's not sure that anyone's ever looked at him quite like that before, and he finds himself flushing a little under the scrutiny. Lee moves, folding his legs, keeping himself covered in the sheet. Lee's naked too, George realises, and that makes him blush darker -- he's never been in naked in a bed with another person before.

"Magic," he says, his dark eyes wide at the thought of it. "And is that what you are, too?"
He's beautiful enough to be from some other, stranger world.

[atehimrightup]

George's pale skin flushes a very enticing shade of pink and Lee swallows hard as he glances away, mentally kicking himself. What he's not going to do is think lustful thoughts about his suddenly teenage boyfriend who doesn't remember him. Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

The question startles him enough that his gaze snaps over at George, who is looking at him like-- well, like an awestruck teenager.

"No, definitely not," he says with a self-conscious chuckle, biting his bottom lip and reaching up to sweep his hair back from his face again. "I'm just a person who was brought here, too."

[gallowseyes]

"I've...never seen anyone like you," says George, because why would he have, in Leicestershire, of all places? Maybe there are creatures like this at court, but that might as well be a million miles away from the ground George Villiers sprung from.

"Am I to stay here, then? With you?"

[atehimrightup]

Lee can’t help the soft laugh that he lets out at that. He supposes that he would look strange to someone who has no concept of hair dye or tattoo guns. The question makes something in his chest clench, because he doesn’t want to let George out of his sight. He loves this boy, even now, and feels a fierce desire to protect him.

“Yes,” he says with a bit of an authoritative edge to his voice, staring at George’s face. And then he softens, chuckling at himself. “I mean, that would probably be best. This place can be overwhelming. But I can, uh— sleep elsewhere.”

[gallowseyes]

Yes, says Lee, and there's something about the tone, the way that he says it, that sinks something hot and almost shameful through George's core. He blinks, watching as Lee's face blossoms into a smile. "I don't....You don't have to."

He used to sharing a bed with a warm body, after all. It's just usually one of his brothers or a servant.

[atehimrightup]

Their eyes meet and it’s like an electric spark, making Lee’s breath catch. There’s a tension there that feels brand new and he swallows hard, breathing in through his mouth because now that the shock is wearing off, he realizes how fucking good George smells.

Lee spends a moment being very overwhelmed by wanting so many different things all at once. Protecting George wins out, as it always will.

“We can figure it out,” Lee breathes out shakily, staring at George for another moment and then clearing his throat and looking away. He twists as he gets out of bed, feeling George’s eyes on him as he steps into his sweatpants.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as he turns around, hair falling into his face as he tights the string around his waist.

[gallowseyes]

He doesn't imagine it -- the way Lee's breath catches, and the heat in his eyes. George feels his cheeks flush darker still when Lee twists and gets out of the bed and George sees his naked backside, and the long, lithe muscles of his thighs. Lee asks a question, and George clears his throat.

"I...yes," he says, his eyes dropping to Lee's hands before he can stop himself. "I am."

[atehimrightup]

Lee is staring down at the drawstring of his pants when George’s scent goes spicy with arousal, and he closes his eyes to pray for strength. By now his body nearly responds to the scent in a Pavlovian way, making his mouth water and his cock twitch, but he can’t fuck the teenage version of his boyfriend who doesn’t even remember him. It wouldn’t be right, not when he’s so vulnerable and probably scared. Lee wouldn’t take advantage of him.

No matter how good he smells. Or how he looks at Lee with ruddy, youthful cheeks.

“Right,” Lee says once he realizes he’s been staring again. “I can make you some eggs.”

[gallowseyes]

Eggs are, at least, familiar, and George is, he realises, genuinely hungry. He nods and goes to get out of the bed, and then remembers that he's completely naked and grabs for the sheet instead, pulling more of it into his lap.

"I...don't have clothes," he says. "Sir." He blushes darker. "Lee."

[atehimrightup]

"Oh, fuck me," Lee murmurs to himself, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. It's a good thing that he's already damned. He laughs and shakes his head a little incredulously, then goes over to George's dresser to peruse his clothes, taking out a pair of blue silk pajama bottoms and a plain cotton tee. It feels maybe close enough to something George might have had at home.

"Here," he says as he turns to walk back over to George and hand him the clothes. George stares up at him with his full mouth and bright eyes, and Lee is stunned by how pretty he is. This is the George that was sent off to France to learn how to fuck, and that breaks Lee's heart a little.

"It's just Lee," he says in a voice that's firm but gentle all at once, giving into the overwhelming impulse to reach out and lightly brush his fingertips across George's cheek, like he just has to confirm that he's real. "We're equals in this house. It's yours as much as mine."

Tenderly, he brushes George's hair out of his face and then clears his throat as he pulls his hand back and steps away, ducking his head. "Um, I'll leave you to change. The kitchen's just down the hall. You can meet me out there when you're ready."

[gallowseyes]

"Just Lee," he echoes, as he accepts the cloths -- soft, fine things. He particularly likes the shade of blue and wishes that, at home, he might have more things like this. Lee brushes his hair back and George feels his face burn. He's not sure he's ever been touched so gently.

When Lee leaves the room, George stands up and dresses. It takes him a moment to figure out the garments but, eventually, he's decent enough to pad down the hallway on bare feet.

[atehimrightup]

Once Lee is alone, he takes a moment to grab a throw pillow from the sofa and scream into it, stomping his feet on the hardwood floor. He's freaking out, but he's not going to let George know that he's freaking out, because if anyone gets to be doing that right now, it's him. He just woke up in a strange place next to a strange man and it just-- it doesn't matter that Lee feels entirely unmoored, like his heart has been scooped right out of his ribcage. George will remember him again. He will. Otherwise Lee is going to burn this whole place to the ground.

After his quick, quiet tantrum, he goes into the kitchen and gets to work. He isn't sure if this George will want coffee or tea (did they even have coffee back then?), so he starts to make both before opening the fridge and pondering over the ingredients. The cold air hits his face and he snatches the carton of eggs and the bag of shredded cheese. When he turns around again, George is standing there in clothes that are just slightly too big for him, and Lee's heart does a funny little flip in his chest.

"This place is probably a lot smaller than you're used to," Lee admits, chuckling awkwardly as he starts to make them breakfast, gesturing at the stools tucked in against the kitchen counter. "But it's ours. Sit."

[gallowseyes]

The way the clothes fit isn't familiar, but they do feel good against his skin. The trousers are a little long, and the soft fabric whispers against the floor when he walks into the room. Lee is standing there, food in his hands, and George hadn't realised how hungry he actually was before the possibility of food became a reality.

"I never really spent time in the kitchen," he says, going to sit on one of the stools. "Mother would have been furious."

[atehimrightup]

Lee’s mouth pinches in at the corners at the mention of George’s mother, but he does his best to keep his opinion to himself. Well, mostly. His face gets kind of loud sometimes.

“I know. You once burnt pasta,” Lee says with a soft smile. George seems to be handling this relatively well, which is good.

“Everything should go back to normal eventually. These sorts of things don’t tend to last too long,” Lee says as he breaks eggs into a mixing bowl with one hand, graceful and capable as he moves around the kitchen in just a pair of loose gray sweats. “So think of it as a vacation. No expectations.”

He lifts his head to catch George’s eye as he beats the eggs, smiling knowingly. “No overbearing mothers. No responsibility. Just enjoy yourself as much as you can.”

[gallowseyes]

He sees the expression, and he can guess its meaning, and he can't help but wonder what Lee knows about Mary Villiers. He's always known that she's a monster, but he was raised by her.

"I don't know what pasta is," he says, arranging himself on the stool with his bent arms on the counter in front of him. He can't help but be distracted by all of Lee's bare skin. He's almost luminous. "I'll try, though. It feels like a dream."

[atehimrightup]

"It's something hard to burn," Lee drawls, tossing a flirty smile over his shoulder as he pours the eggs into the pan. He doesn't intend to, but that's sort of his default setting when it comes to George. "I do most of the cooking, but that works because you like to be spoiled."

As if proving his point, he finishes up George's cup of tea and sets it in front of him. Lee will never get the appeal of tea, he's pretty sure, but he knows that George likes it. So of course he learned how to make a perfect cup.

He presses his palms into the counter and smiles at George, staring at him with a soft expression as he studies each slight difference from the George that he's used to.

"A dream?" He asks with a wry smile, lifting his gaze from George's full mouth to his bright eyes. "Not a nightmare?"

[gallowseyes]

That smile. George feels his whole body react to it, in a wya that he's not entirely sure what to do with. Lee smiles like that, and he feels warm and safe and hot, all at the same time. He brushes his hair back from his eyes and chews the corner of his nail.

"We have a cook. At home." Lee sets the tea down in front of him, and it smells familiar. He picks it up, cradling the cup between his hands and looking at Lee. He shakes his head. "Nightmares are frightening," he says. "This...I'm not frightened."

[atehimrightup]

George's face goes pink at the same moment his scent goes spicy sweet, settling in the back of Lee's throat like syrup, and he has to swallow hard to keep from reaching out to touch those flushed cheeks. They're rounder than he's used to, ripe with baby fat, and that reminds Lee to keep his hands to himself. Oh, but George smells good like this. He smells brand new and drives some animal part of Lee absolutely wild.

"I know you did. I know a lot about you, George." Lee gives him a sort of knowing look, letting his gaze sweep slowly up George's body and over his face, lifting his eyebrows a little. He turns away to cut off the stove and divide the eggs between two plates, then puts some bread in the toaster and opens the fridge, leaning over to peer inside. He honestly can't remember if George had strawberries back home, but Lee nabbed some big fat ones from the farmer's market so he takes those out and puts a few on the plates.

"Good. You have no reason to be frightened of me," Lee says as he turns to face George again, doing his best not to sniff the air. He wants to bury his face in George's neck so badly. "I know it's a lot to process but I--" He swallows hard and tries to breathe through his mouth. "You're safe here."

[gallowseyes]

He's not sure that anyone's ever looked at him the way that Lee looks at him before he turns away and, God, it makes him feel hot all over. He shifts on the stool and purses his lips to blow across the surface of his tea before he takes a sip. Lee bends over and George tries not to stare. He really does.

"I believe you," he says, nodding. "I feel it."

[atehimrightup]

George's scent fills the kitchen, mingling with coffee and warm bread and sunlight. He really doesn't seem scared and that's sort of confusing to Lee, at least until George speaks again and Lee nearly drops a piece of buttered toast in surprise. He can feel it, even now. He's sitting in a brand new strange place, alone in a room with an apex predator, and he feels safe. Lee makes him feel safe. It's almost enough to make him cry, but he swallows it back.

"I'm very glad," he says as he finishes up the plates and turns around to set one in front of George. "Cheesy eggs and toast, just as you like them."

Lee comes around to sit next to George at the counter, giving into the urge to briefly lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. After taking a sip of his coffee, he clears his throat softly and looks over at George again.

"Do you understand what we are to each other?" He asks eventually, feeling his own cheeks heat up. "Why we share a-- a home and why I know just how you like your tea and eggs?" He finds himself angled slightly toward George, like he's a plant and George is the sun. "Why you feel safe with me?"