And In Six YearsAuthor: neversleepsCharacters/Pairing:
George Weasley, George/LeeRating:
Slash, if that's not your thing. Disclaimers:
I own nothing but the story told below, the world and characters are all JKR's.Notes/Summary:
It takes a few years, but George finally realises something. Written for ozma_katiebell
"You sure about this?"
At the sound of Lee's voice, George looked up from the box of personal possessions he was attempting to Spellotape to see the cautious look he was being given from the other side of the room.
"Of course I am!" he answered, bestowing a wide smile upon his best mate. "Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't, right?"
"Right," Lee echoed with a small grin of his own, though he did seem to pause before returning his attention to the box he was closing.
It took George longer than he'd have liked, but he blamed the Spellotape not being cooperative as he finally had the box taped well enough to consider himself done. Sighing in relief, he sat on it. All the furniture was in storage, Lee had said when asked about it.
be the last box," Lee said as he finally closed it, easily applying Spellotape where the flaps met and making George's previous hard time look ridiculous in comparison. Once finished, he looked over at George. "Mind checking the bedroom, though? I'll take the others down."
"Yeah, sure," George said as he stood. He took his time walking down the hall towards the back, until finally he reached the very end of it – not that it was much of a hallway to begin with – and pushed the door open as Lee had left it half-closed.
George remembered a lot of horrible nights and equally bad mornings in Lee's flat, specifically in the past six that Lee'd lived there. After all, for a long time, the very idea of staying in his own flat had filled George with dread and given him a tightening in his chest that had felt so real he'd almost thought he'd die. Lee had understood that, mostly because he'd lost one of his best friends at the exact same moment that George had lost his other half. He'd felt less than himself without Fred, still did sometimes, and even though Lee didn't feel the exact
amount of grief, he'd still been able to get through to George when no one else could. In the end, it had made the two better mates, and George could admit, at least to himself, that he'd come to rely on Lee a lot.
Pushing back thoughts on the past, he entered the room, immediately noticing the box in the centre of the floor. He rolled his eyes at Lee's evident forgetfulness, realising he'd probably started to pack the box and forgot about it in all the rushing. He'd been doing that all week, forgetting things - ever since George had first put forth the idea of Lee moving into the empty room George had when his lease was up. A part of him didn't want
to give up Fred's room, but the idea of not living alone was entirely too appealing to let go because of the occasional twinge.
George crossed the room to the box, and crouched down to close it up, having yet to notice anything else left behind, when his eyes caught a movement. Curious, he looked inside the box, and realised there were photos. Moving ones, from the looks of it. He picked up the one at the very top, and was surprised to find that the subject was a naked man in a seductive pose. At least George figured it was seductive, looking at it. It wasn't not
seductive – anyone would find it seductive. It was just one of "those" things, like saying that all babies are cute, whether it was fact didn't actually matter.
The subject of the photograph didn't stay in one position for long, however, each pose after that becoming just a bit more suggestive than the one before.
His curiosity was piqued and George set the picture aside, searching the box for more photographs and finding that there were indeed more. He had lost count on the exact amount, but they all shared something in common: they were either of different men, or Lee
with these men. The nature of the photos where obvious in their sexiness. Especially the ones that included Lee. But then, Lee was just one of those guys that even another bloke could appreciate and notice. Anyone, George told himself, would find the sight of Lee having sex – even with another man – sexy.
And George couldn't tear his eyes away.
"What? Did you get sucked into a black hole in there?"
Jarred from the distraction, George hurriedly put the pictures back in the box. "There's one last box," he said loud enough for Lee to hear and closed it, Spellotape and all. Lifting the box into his arms as he stood, he went out to join Lee in the front of the flat. "Black hole?"
"I've got to introduce you to more movies," Lee said with the shake of his head.
"No thanks. Last time, it was that three-hour one with the ship, which you lied and said was an action-adventure flick. What did you say, again? 'It really picks up in the end, trust me'?"
Lee laughed at that and gave George a grin. "It's not really my
fault you gave me the opportunity to pull one over on you, is it?"
"And I've been planning my revenge ever since."
Picking up the last box, other than the one George held himself, Lee laughed again. "Sorry if I don't believe you, mate. It's been months and you haven't done anything yet."
At that, George grinned, simply saying, "Revenge is a dish best served cold."
"What, you're going to wait until I forget about it?" Lee asked, giving George an incredulous look. George only continued to smile and Lee's facial expression went from joyful to sullen in a flash. "Not on. Not on at all
George gave no reply, only shrugging in feigned helplessness of the situation though the grin that remained on his face gave him away, before leading the way out of the flat. Despite that, however, he couldn't quite get the image of those photographs out of his head.
Exhaling loudly, Lee collapsed onto the sofa beside George, causing him to look over as he ran a hand through his dreadlocks.
"Thanks again," Lee said, catching the look he was being given.
George shrugged, looking back at the parchment he held in his hands. "You needed a room, I have an empty one."
Lee only nodded in response and silence descended between the two. George tried to keep his eyes and thoughts on the inventory list Verity had taken before she left for the day, but he was slightly distracted by his thoughts of what he'd seen earlier.
Lee was gay. How long had he been gay? How many blokes had he been with since finding out? When
did he find out? Months ago, years? Did he have a boyfriend? Why hadn't he told George? Should he ask?
The last thought caused George to look over at Lee again, the other man not noticing as he'd picked up a magazine and was slowly paging through it in obvious boredom. George looked back at his parchment.
He was thinking on this too much, he realised. And Lee probably had a very good reason for why he'd chosen to not tell George about this life-changing event of his. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he was experimenting and he didn't think it was important. Maybe he was new to this. Maybe it had been a phase and was well in the past. Maybe –
"Too many bleeding maybes," he muttered under his breath.
George looked over at Lee sharply, having forgotten that he no longer lived alone, to find that Lee had lowered the magazine and was watching him with a furrowed brow. George shook his head negatively. "Thinking aloud. It's nothing."
His only saving grace was in that Lee easily went back to his magazine and George decided he'd drive himself mad if he thought on it any longer. He'd just wait Lee out. Let Lee tell him when he was ready. After all, how long would it possibly take him, now that they lived together?
It was his twenty-sixth birthday, and though the number itself wasn't all that special, it was the fifth one he'd had without Fred. In a way, that sort of did
make it special.
The problem was, however, that instead of enjoying the night with his friends, he was thinking about the pictures. Why was he making such a big deal about them, anyway? Lee hadn't, otherwise he'd have said something by now –
"Oi, you! What's with the frowning?" Lee asked breathlessly as he returned from the dance floor with Angelina – equally out of breath, nudging George's arm as he reclaimed his seat to the left.
George gave Lee a brief grin. "Thinking."
"About?" Lee prompted. "I'd say it's one of those lovely ladies at the next table and what you'd like to do to her later, but I hardly think you'd be frowning if that was the case."
"You're right, and I'm sorry to say, that wasn't it."
Lee raised an eyebrow in question at that and George quickly realised an answer was necessary. The only one that would make any sense would possibly cause Lee to roll his eyes, and it did, even as he uttered the first word. "Shop stuff."
"Oh, c'mon. There are girls here, you know. Lots
of gorgeous girls, and you're sitting here thinking shop stuff
? No way, mate. I won't allow it."
With a laugh, George realised Lee was right, ironic as that was, and besides, he couldn't rightly explain to Lee his disinterest, so he looked out onto the dance floor with Lee following suit. "Right, then. So who here rates as a ten?"
do," Angelina cut in, indicating herself and the two women at each of her sides.
"Yes, you do. Even in sweaty Quidditch uniforms." George answered, knowing the girls, or Angelina at least, well enough than to say anything else. "But we're talking about girls that aren't our friends. Tangible girls."
"In which case, you might as well start with eights and work your way down," Alicia interjected this time, receiving a loud laugh from Katie and a high five from Angelina.
"I'm going to have to be offended now. Oliver Wood doesn't go any lower than eight-point-five."
"And neither does Lee Jordan."
George couldn't help the look he slid in Lee's direction at the comment, unable to keep from wondering if he'd meant girls or blokes. After all, he could've meant either.
George tried not to groan out loud at his own obsessive thoughts.
Ten minutes after Lee left the table for a drink, George was the only person who had noticed that he was still not back, as was evidenced by the fact that the Chaser trio and Oliver were caught up in determining the rules for a "friendly" bet on who could win over most guys/girls by the end of the outing. Normally, George would have thrown in a comment on how it was a pointless bet as he was going to win, but he was in an entirely different place, being as aware of Lee's absence as he was. Idly, he guessed living with a person did that. So, when Katie finally noticed he'd had yet to join in and offered, he declined and left the table for the bathroom, figuring he'd look for Lee by the bar on the way.
Taking a look around as he neared it, it didn't take long for him to see that Lee wasn't there. He was at a loss as to where he'd gone, but he figured he might as well go ahead to the bathroom. For all he knew, they'd passed each other and Lee was already back at the table.
Making his way through the crowd once more, George found the bathroom, which was thankfully next to the bar for all the trouble it was to get to it. He was just a bit relieved as he finally reached it and pushed the door open, only to be halted in his tracks, the door slowly swinging shut behind him.
Leaning against the opposite wall was Lee, his eyes closed and his hands in the hair of whoever the bloke currently on his knees before him was. It was obvious to George that he was giving Lee a blowjob, and George wondered if it was one of the guys from the pictures, if Lee had even known him before deciding on this trip to the public
bathroom. And why weren't they at least using a stall?
Inexplicably, George was unable to leave or look away from the sight, his gaze solely on Lee's face and the perfect 'o' his mouth formed was he gasped and moaned and made other noises of appreciation, obviously enjoying what the other man was doing. George considered that if the pictures were sexy, than the scene before him crossed into erotic territory.
And then, as if sensing his presence (it sounded stupid to George, too), Lee's eyes opened, boldly meeting George's across the room. George didn't know who the events of the next moment said more about: Lee for not making the man stop, or George for not leaving.
If there was anything Lee and George had the most in common, it was the fact that they weren't conversationalists. Oh, sure, they held up well in the superficial conversations when it came to people they knew, customers (listeners in Lee's case), and pulling, but on the real, serious, this-is-sort-of-important stuff? Avoidance was always the first choice.
The problem, however, was that George wasn't really in an avoidance mood, and, despite the fact that he knew it would be nothing but awkward, he actually did sort of want to talk about what had happened in the bathroom. Or what hadn't, depending on which way you looked at it. George had all the evidence he needed, all his maybes answered, but he still wasn't satisfied. Probably because Lee still had yet to tell him on his own.
And, really, George was probably going to think about it nonstop until they talked it out and he felt properly able to concentrate on other things. Like on winning the bets when they were out with their friends, or on actually coming up with shop ideas.
Needless to say, then, by the fourth day, George was just a bit tired of the metaphorical elephant in the room that was Lee's sexuality, and it was as he flipped the sign on the front of the shop from open to closed that he finally said, "Are we ever going to talk about it?"
"About what?" Lee asked, giving George a smirk. "Your bad timing?"
Despite the fact that the answer amused George, he didn't laugh. "You know what."
Lee exhaled loudly, and took a seat of his own making by hopping onto the counter. "I know." He paused for a moment, taking his time, it seemed like. George waited somewhat patiently for him to continue.
"Right. So, I'm queer."
If it wasn't for the way he said it, lightly as if he was reading a grocery list, George wouldn't have been able to grin. It was fleeting, however, and he was serious once again.
Lee looked as uncomfortable as George certainly felt, and George was partly wishing he'd kept his mouth shut for the sake of not having this conversation.
"Few years." Was Lee's immediate answer, but with a stare from George, he amended the statement. "Six, if you want to be exact."
He then gave George a calculating look, one George was not completely aware of as it sunk in that Lee had realised this six years ago and hadn't seen fit to tell him. When he did notice, however, he knew the question that was coming.
"Why's it so important to you, anyway?"
"No real reason." George was typically a good liar, but he figured more than a decade of friendship gave Lee some sort of advantage in being able to tell the difference. Especially at that exact moment when his eyes narrowed further.
George figured it would be better if he didn't prolong this. "I saw your photos."
The narrowed gaze was exchanged for one of minor surprise as Lee ran a hand through his dreads. "When?"
"The box you'd left in your bedroom," George said, watching as the realisation dawned on Lee's face.
"Forgot I had those in there."
"I figured." Pausing, George realised he still had one question. "How did you figure it out?"
Lee looked up from where he'd been concentrating on the floor, his eyes meeting George's across the room. "There was... someone who I got really close to."
"Not that I know of."
George nodded, looking down at the floor as Lee drummed his fingers along the countertop. Silence descended between the two, until George figured he had all the answers he needed.
Rubbing his hands together and causing Lee to look up at him, he said, "Well, at least we don't have to compete for birds anymore."
Lee laughed. "Not that it was ever a competition to begin with."
"You're right," George conceded. "Because I'm brilliant
. No girl can say no."
"Right." Lee nodded, though the look he shot George was of disbelief. "That's because you won't listen to anything but yes."
With a grin, George realised that things were good between them now that George had his answers and he could finally get back to normal. There'd be no more imagining Lee with his knees by his ears as he was fucked and definitely no more wondering what it would be like to be the one sucking his cock in a public toilet.
"You know, you really need to learn to hold your liquor better. Otherwise, I might be forced to start taking blackmail-worthy photos."
Even though Lee was right beside him, leaning
on him in fact, George might as well have been talking to a wall for the lack of an answer he got as Lee stumbled along next to him, an arm about George's neck.
"I think I might do that anyway. Payback for that movie," George continued, figuring that in Lee's state, he probably wouldn't even remember anything beyond the shots he'd taken with Alicia in the bet that led to him being as trolleyed as he was. Part of the brilliance was in knowing that, because he was a bit of a lightweight, Lee tended to avoid getting drunk when it was possible. But he also couldn't resist a bet. So when Alicia had claimed that she could drink more than Lee in a two-minute time frame and, despite the size difference, still
remain mostly sober, George had gone ahead and bet a good amount of galleons on the fact that Lee would manage to drink more, and end up pissed almost immediately after the fact.
"Up the stairs, c'mon."
"You know. We should do this more often," Lee commented, words slurred as George tried to keep him from tripping up, or falling down, the stairs.
"We already do it just about every other week."
"We do, don't we?" Lee asked with a laugh, and George was entirely too amused not to laugh along with him as they reached the top of the landing, and the door.
"Drunk off your arse is a good attitude for you, you know. Even better than usual," George said with a grin as he went through the daunting task of attempting to keep Lee upright and unlocking the door simultaneously. It took longer than he'd have liked, but eventually he was kicking the door closed behind them and locking it.
"You want to know something, George?"
"Is it something you'll regret telling me later?" The hopeful tone in George's voice couldn't be helped as they slowly made their way past the living room and kitchen, to the short hall that lead to Lee's bedroom. What he should've done was dump him on the couch and call it a night, but he was a brilliant friend in that way.
"Don't think so." Lee shook his head, which was evidently not a good idea as he nearly fell and took George with him.
"Then you're better off not telling me."
The problem in keeping them both upright for George, was in the fact that George was definitely not as pissed as Lee, but he wasn't exactly sober himself, and when Lee stumbled a second time, the result was that they tipped sideways with Lee holding onto George's shoulder to keep upright as George grabbed a fistful of Lee's shirt. Luckily for them, the wall saved them from falling, though George got the brunt of that, hitting his back against it.
It brought him face to face with Lee, and unable to look anywhere else, he looked into his eyes. For that moment, maybe it was what he saw in them, but George felt like he was in that bathroom all over again, watching Lee get off with that other guy.
If he had considered himself keenly aware of Lee's presence when they were doing nothing but sitting next to each other, George didn't know what to call being close enough to breathe the same air, or to be distinctly aware of where their hands were – one of Lee's still on his shoulder where he'd clutched at George for balance while the other rested on the wall just beside George's head while George still held onto Lee's shirt tightly, to be able to hear
him breathing. To notice with every tenth of a second as Lee's face inched that much closer to his and he had the realisation that Lee was probably about to kiss him, followed by the wonder of what it'd be like – not just to kiss another man, but to kiss Lee
. He wanted to know what it would feel like, to have Lee's hands in his hair, pulling him closer. To feel the slight stubble on Lee's face against his skin, the feel of his mouth against George's.
Lee paused, biting his lip, and George was mesmerised by the sight, his eyes drawn to it before his gaze returned to Lee's. Just as he thought Lee would go for it, though, he did the opposite, taking an unsteady step back, forcing George to let go.
He took a breath, as George remained against the wall, in disbelief, and maybe even a bit of disappointment. Of what, he didn't think about for right now.
"Not really the best idea. 'Specially as I'm drunk and you're not gay." Even as Lee said it, his voice strained to George's ears, George really wished Lee didn't have to go ahead and be the sensible one even while drunk.
"Right," George said, though he didn't particularly like this turn of events. Even still, he said, "Let's get you to your bed, then."
There was something fleeting in Lee's eyes that George didn't quite catch before Lee nodded, taking another unsteady step backwards. George exhaled, and put an arm around Lee's shoulder again, helping him into his room and to his bed, and George only really trusted himself with taking off Lee's shoes before leaving him passed out on his bed.
Almost as if in a race with himself, George was closing the door to his own room behind him and leaning against it heavily within moments. And even as he closed his eyes, he could still picture Lee's face, so close to his own and closing in – and it didn't make any sense for the situation to be haunting him so. He wasn't the shirtlifter, Lee was. Lee had even said so himself, for fuck's sake.
And yet, he'd found himself wondering if Lee had ever thought of him
, ever wanted him
. If he'd ever considered... which was stupid, he knew that. He shouldn't even care.
Undoing his denims, George quickly pushed both them and his pants off his hips, freeing the hardening erection he'd tried to ignore, the one that was the same reason he'd left Lee's room as if hellhounds were nipping at his heels. The one he'd gotten just from the very thought of kissing Lee.
Regardless of how it came to be, he couldn't ignore it, and as George closed his eyes once more, he pictured the various women he'd been with in the past, hand on his cock, and slowly, began to stroke himself using the mental images he'd conjured to help him along. His breathing became shallower and he pumped his cock almost furiously in his need to come. Why it was so important that thinking of these girls did it for him, he wasn't going to concentrate on.
But it wasn't enough.
Unbidden, the mental image of Lee, fresh out of the shower in only a towel, forced George to bite his lip and groan. The one of Lee reclining on their couch, or even just getting something out of the kitchen while shirtless had him gripping the door knob with his free hand in an effort to not have his legs completely become jelly underneath him as he jerked his cock at a faster pace, closer than he'd been before. But it was the thought of what could've happened if George had just went ahead and kissed Lee, of how right now he could be fucking him – or being fucked, if he'd gone ahead that made him come with a yell that was only muffled by his own hand. In the breathless aftermath, he slid down into a sitting position, ignoring the cold of the hardwood floor as he leaned against the door.
He didn't move, he couldn't because he figured that as long as he stayed put, what had just happened only existed in his head.
Closing the door to the refrigerator with a bottle of beer in hand, George looked up just in time to notice Lee come out of his bedroom, dressed for a night out from what he could tell.
"What are you up to?" he asked, his goal to sound nonchalant. For over a week now, he'd been pretending the moment in the hall, and everything that came after, hadn't happened. Mostly because Lee didn't seem to remember it, and had yet to say anything about it, and because George decided he hadn't been sober enough for any of it to matter. Which, ironically, was the same excuse he'd have used if more had
Lee grinned at George. "Date."
George slowed in his attempt to open his bottle in order to give Lee a slightly surprised look, but Lee was grinning at his reflection and wasn't paying much attention to George. Which was all well and good, George decided, because he didn't think he'd be able to hide the facial expression that surely matched the odd twist in his gut and the bad taste in his mouth if Lee actually noticed. If George was insane, he'd call it jealousy. Except that didn't make any sense.
"You're all right for the night?"
George gave Lee a grin that couldn't have been any more fake if he tried. "Of course I am! Go, have a brilliant time."
Lee nodded in acceptance. "See you later tonight, then. Or... if I'm lucky, tomorrow morning."
His parting comment did nothing to lessen the feeling in George's stomach as it continued to twist into a knot, but he figured it was just a phase. A fluke. His curiosity was just affecting him too much, and he still hadn't processed this new reality with Lee was all. He was just envious that it was Friday night and Lee was going out while he sat in the flat all night.
Of course that was it.
"What's it like to kiss another bloke?"
Looking over from where he was putting boxes of Skiving Snacks on a shelf, George was just in time to catch the look Lee gave him from where he stood behind the register, taking the money made for the day to count it.
"Seriously?" he asked, both eyebrows raised.
"I asked, so yeah." George said, putting the last box in his hand onto the shelf. Turning to Lee he said, "Spill."
Lee shrugged. "It's noticeably different from kissing a woman, if that's what you're looking for."
George thought he'd be satisfied by the simple answer, especially as he wondered on that once ever since he didn't actually get the chance, but he wasn't. "In what way?"
"I guess the fact that you're both about the same height, for one."
"What about stubble? Isn't that a bit uncomfortable?" Done with the Skiving snacks, George moved onto the next product, something new that he was hoping would sell well enough.
"If you're noticing stubble, you're probably not being kissed right," Lee answered in an amused tone, having returned to counting the money.
"What about beards, or moustaches?"
"Wouldn't know." Lee didn't even bother looking up from the money this time, somehow managing to keep count even as he spoke. "I prefer clean-shaven, a bit of stubble at the most."
George decided that maybe it would be a good idea to let go of questioning Lee, and went back to stocking the shelves. It was quiet for a few minutes, then, as George realised that he shaved at least every other day and that Lee probably wouldn't mind if he ever kissed him – Bad thought. Very bad thought.
George gave Lee a sidelong look where he was finishing his count and writing down the totals. He had another question on his mind, and it didn't take much to decide whether to ask or not.
"Ever given a blowjob?"
The sharpness with which Lee looked up at George was expected and George shrugged his shoulders in silent response to Lee's unasked question. He looked back down at what he was doing and for a moment, George was sure he wasn't actually going to get an answer before Lee said, "Yeah."
It was a simple answer, and yet, the affect it had on George wasn't quite as simple. He waited until he had a few more boxes on the shelves before asking his next question. "So..."
Lee looked up once more, and raised an eyebrow.
"Which do you prefer? Getting, or giving?"
"Depends on the person." Lee said. "Besides, I've had six years, and I'm good at it. That had to happen somehow, right?"
George decided to not
think too much on that, even as the thought of Lee expertly sucking the cock of a nameless face ran through his mind. Lee set the quill in his hand down and then asked, "Are you done?"
"Yeah." George said with a nod, allowing silence to fall between them as, done with the money, Lee came over to help with filling the shelves. Even then, the idea of asking one last question appealed to him, and despite the fact that he wasn't exactly sure how Lee'd take it, he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. All in the name or curiosity, right?
"Do you prefer being buggered, or doing the bugger-?"
"George, what the hell
is this about?" Lee stopped what he was doing to devote his full attention towards George. "You're incredibly interested for someone not into gay sex."
"Can't I be curious?"
"Curious, is asking general questions – not wanting to know my personal preferences."
George found that he had to physically bite his tongue so as to not mention that it was curious if the person he kept imagining sex with, especially recently, happened to be Lee.
George looked up from the cash register at the sound of knocking. Through the glass, he could easily see the form of Angelina standing outside, and after closing the register, he went to open the door, grinning widely at her as he gave her entrance.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Angelina smiled in return. "I was looking for Lee, actually," she said. "He'd mentioned a few days ago that he wanted to offer free tickets to the World Cup on his show, and being the brilliantly connected person that I am, I managed to get five for him. Is he here?"
At the mention of Lee, George was a bit more sullen, though he tried not to be obvious about it. "He isn't. On a date, apparently. Again."
Angelina raised an eyebrow, noticing the change in his attitude if not by the facial expression, then certainly by the tone of voice. "Something wrong with him being on a date?"
"No." George stopped just before saying something he might regret later. "It's not really important."
"The glower says differently, just so you know."
"Ang, it's nothing," George said, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. "Really. I just figured..."
What had he figured, exactly? That they'd hang out with each other more around the flat? That he'd spend all his free time with George? That, maybe, he'd give George the opportunity to have him bent over the arm of their sofa, making all those moaning noises for him, because
of him? That last one brought him up short.
That wasn't right, none of it, and especially not the last one. Last he checked, he wasn't the clingy type, and that was exactly how he sounded in his own head. Women
were clingy. Well, all right, not the ones he happened to be related to, or the ones his brothers married, or the three he considered good friends. But... generally.
And, more to the point, he wasn't gay. A few thoughts here or there, yeah, but he figured everyone did that every once in a while, imagined it and was curious about it. Wondered about what it would be like. It didn't actually mean anything.
"And that's fine and all until you start to sound jealous," she said, to which he did not reply. After a moment, she sighed, however, and said, "Tell him I was here and to send me an owl, yeah?"
"Yeah." George nodded distractedly as Angelina gave him a small wave and let herself out.
Ang had no idea what she was talking about, he decided, because there was no way he as actually jealous
George had figured out, in the past week or two of Lee's dates that he had a bit of insomnia on those nights, and this one was no different. Which was why, at four in the morning when Lee finally came home, George was sitting on the living room couch, working out plans for the shop – except he hadn't gotten much done. Between Angelina's accusation of jealousy and his own thoughts, he was well distracted.
"Still up?" Lee asked in surprise as he closed and locked the door behind him.
George looked up from the parchment. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep."
Lee only nodded but instead of going to his room, he went into the kitchen. George heard the sound of a beer being opened, and looked at his parchment without actually reading it while trying to sound disinterested. "How was your date?"
"Decent. Didn't pick up until later, though."
George knew exactly from his tone of voice what he meant.
"You always have sex on the first date?"
George turned around in his seat as Lee came out of the kitchen, having left the beer behind. George himself set down the parchment on the coffee table. "I asked if you always have sex on the first date."
"Only if they're a nine or higher," was Lee's immediate answer. When George didn't find it as amusing as he did, he frowned. "What's this really about, then?"
"It's not about anything. Just asking a question."
That didn't keep Lee from settling a frowning gaze on him as he came around the couch to stand before George, just a foot or two away. "Yeah, right. And one day I'll be the Minister of Magic."
George shrugged. "Anything's possible."
"Cut the shit, George. What's your problem?"
"My problem?" George echoed. "My problem
is – "
George stopped just short of blurting out everything from the time he'd found those pictures, maybe even from before that, sure that it really wasn't his problem. Because Lee
wasn't the problem, was he?
He was. George was his own problem.
Lee raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for an answer that George couldn't give. "Well?" he prompted.
He had to give Lee an answer, though, didn't he? But what exactly was he going to say? That he was too daft to realise earlier that he wasn't envious of Lee, but of the blokes Lee was with when he wasn't with George? That he'd really felt this way to varying degrees for more than six years now and was just realising what it all meant? That he was evidently a bit slow on the uptake?
Yeah, that was probably all true, but George always figured that what he lacked in words, he made up for in action. Reaching out, he grabbed the bottom seam of Lee's shirt and pulled, forcing Lee to stumble forward and onto his lap as he grabbed the back of the sofa for some sort of balance and, before Lee could even have the chance to register what George had done and was about to do, he kissed him. It was harsh and messy and not very well-executed, but George figured his point was made as he slowly relinquished his hold on Lee's clothing and then pulled away completely.
And Lee was well and truly shocked if the look on his face as he realised what George had just done, his breath stolen quite effectively, said anything about how he felt. He climbed off George and onto the empty space on the sofa beside him, staring at George with wide eyes. "What was that?"
"I really don't know."
Lee nodded a bit and looked away for a moment, licking his lips. Like before, George was distracted by the sight, enough that it almost quelled the fear that he'd just fucked up the best relationship in his life for a moment. When Lee looked back at him, George could see that same something in his eyes that he'd seen that night a few weeks ago. Before he could contemplate what that meant, Lee closed in the distance between them, and George could only stare, partly sure of what Lee was about to do, partly hoping, and when Lee's mouth met his, George returned the kiss, opening his mouth to Lee almost immediately.
It started off as something soft, sweet, not exactly forceful for pushing like George's kiss as Lee deepened it, his hands finding their way into George's hair, much in the way he'd imagined before. The longer they kissed, the deeper it delved, and George realised that Lee was mostly right about what he said. He noticed things, like stubble, but it just wasn't as important as the kiss.
Finally they had to pause for breath, though Lee didn't give them much time, kissing George again, this time sitting up to straddle George's lap much in the same way he had just a few minutes ago when George had first kissed him and George's hands instantly went to his waist. There wasn't much talking to be had as Lee sat back, with George watching, he slowly pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the side and leaning down to kiss George once more as his hands found their way underneath George's shirt.
Pulling back once again, Lee gave George a self-assured grin, and shifted downwards, sliding off George's lap and onto his knees in between George's legs. Pushing George's shirt higher, he kissed, licked and nipped at the visible skin, before trailing back down, until he came to the top of George's denims. Looking back up at George in a way that he didn't think was possible to be as erotic as it was, Lee slid his hand down over George's cock, still covered by the material of his jeans, rubbing his inner thigh and then up again, teasing George.
George groaned as Lee continued to torture him, almost sure that he could come still dressed if Lee kept this up. Almost as if he was sensing that however, Lee sat back long enough to undo George's trousers, making a show of it as George watched him from his sitting position. Lifting up his hips, he aided Lee in pulling them, and his pants, down. Lee couldn't be bothered to get them all the way off, though, leaving them at his ankles.
Naked from the waist down before Lee, and half-hard with anticipation and arousal, George watched as Lee took a firm, sure, grip on his cock, forcing a groan from George's mouth as he stroke the length to its fully erect state.
"You know," Lee started, "I've wanted to do this for a few years now. Wanting to lick
," with a wicked smirk, Lee dipped his head down, and punctuated the statement by ever so slowly running his tongue up the length of his shaft, all the way to the very tip and then back to the base.
George's only reply was to bite his lip and stifle a moan.
." Eyes open, George watched as Lee licked his lips just before he put his mouth around the head of George's dick, softly sucking and forcing a barely audible moan from George's mouth, before he pulled backed again.
"And to make you come." With that, Lee slowly eased the length into his mouth, taking his time, teasing him with the warmth of his mouth.
George couldn't help but watch as, with each bob of Lee's head, he took more of George's cock into his mouth, and just when George thought it was impossible for Lee to manage any more, he was proven wrong. Lee was as good as he'd hinted, maybe even better as he eased up, kissing and licking at the base, the feel of his tongue enough to drive George wild as he slid his hands into Lee's hair, tangling his fingers in his dreadlocks.
Lee had one hand on his hip as he ran his tongue up the shaft and slid George's dick into his mouth once more as the other hand drifted up George's inner thigh. George was barely aware of it, though, until Lee slowly, as if he was giving George enough time to stop him, started to push a finger inside of him. Never, except once, had George ever put anything – finger or otherwise there, and it had been a girlfriend during a blowjob. It had been weird, was still weird, but it also sort of felt good as Lee pulled out and pushed back inside when George didn't tell him to stop. In fact, the moaning and "don't!" uttered when he started to stop were clues of the opposite.
Even more of a clue was the fact that George continued to groan and beg, to say things like don't stop, fuck, don't stop
or fuck yes
and so good
until George was grabbing at the cushion underneath him with one hand, his back arching as he attempted to warn Lee ahead of time that we was close without actually saying it, until he came, closing his eyes finally as his orgasm hit him. It was almost like the wind being knocked out of him, and Lee didn't stop or pull away as George stilled, his fingers still tangled in Lee's dreads as he relaxed against the cushions of the couch.
He was still quite breathless as he slowly opened his eyes, saying, "I've never..."
Licking his lips, Lee sat back on the heels of his feet. "Six years."
George grinned at that. "I remember."
Lee looked a bit surprised at that, even as he laughed, and George leaned forward, bringing them almost face to face. The remnants of a smile were still there as George said, "What do you think of this: I'll return the favour, because, really, I've think I've got a lot of catching up to do. And then, later, we'll not
have one of those awkward conversations about what this all means and wing it, see where it goes?"
Eyebrow raised, Lee shrugged. But there was something in his eyes that George couldn’t rightly describe. "Sounds like a plan to me."