Lee (
atehimrightup) wrote2025-08-20 08:54 pm
Entry tags:
happy birthday, george
Lee has never put much stock into birthdays. His own never really mattered to him, because it never really mattered to anyone else. He would always try to get something for Kayla on her birthday, but that was about the extent of it.
All that is to say that Lee feels woefully prepared to plan a birthday for his-- whatever George is. Boyfriend? That feels so juvenile, like it isn't important enough.
He stresses about it more than he probably needs to, but he's never had the opportunity to celebrate something like this with someone he cares about. Which is already sort of a big deal, but George was the lover of a literal king and was undoubtedly showered with expensive gifts on a regular basis. Lee has no idea how to compete with that, even though he can hear George's voice in his head telling him that it isn't a competition. Which is good, because he'd probably lose.
The actual night isn't much of a problem. He comes up with a plan pretty easily, one that's simple but romantic, he thinks. It's the gift that's the problem. Because nothing in this whole goddamn city is good enough for George. Nothing that he can afford, anyway.
Just days before, he still hasn't found anything and he's getting sort of desperate. He distracts himself by going on a hunt because he really does need to eat, which sort of just makes him feel worse because of the guilt. But the guy is (was) a verified scumbag and women walking alone at night will be safer without him around, so he doesn't feel too bad.
In the guy's pocket is a receipt for a pawn shop that Lee has never heard of, so he goes to check it out the next day. It's in a terrible part of town and there isn't really even a sign. Inside it's dusty and unorganized and Lee just assumes it's some sort of front for something else. Still, he decides to look around while some guy comes out from the back and eyes him with wary suspicion, like he's surprised to see someone in the shop at all.
He finds a dusty jewelry display case and heads toward it hopefully, crouching down in front of it. Inside are mostly gold chains and tennis bracelets, all generic shit that wouldn't suit George at all, and he's about to give up when he spots a blue velvet box tucked back into a corner, half-hidden under a gaudy necklace. It looks like earrings and Lee rises to his feet and coolly asks to take a look at them, not wanting to show any excitement and inadvertently drive the price up. He knows how these places operate.
The guy takes them out of the case and Lee picks them up, doing his best to keep a placid expression even though he's pretty sure he just found what he's looking for. The box looks well-preserved but very old, as do the earrings themselves. He has no idea if the stones are real, but they look like it. There's a small piece of yellowed paper tucked inside, and when Lee discreetly unfolds it he finds elegant cursive scrawl and, most importantly, it's dated 1827. That confirms that they’re old, probably very old, and this guy doesn’t seem to really realize what he has. They're perfect.
Lee is prepared to use every trick in his arsenal to haggle a deal, but it's not even that hard. The guy seems wholly uninterested in this alleged business, and Lee is annoying and persistent, so he ends up getting them for a price that, while painful, won't leave him destitute. When he leaves the shop, earrings tucked carefully into his pocket, he feels lighter than he has in days.
George's birthday comes and they sleep in, then fuck a few times and sleep some more. Lee makes them a late lunch and then tells George that he needs to go run a few errands before they go to dinner, but there's an obvious twinkle in his eye. He leaves George's apartment and goes to his own where he's left all the supplies, and then goes and sets everything up before heading back toward George's building, texting him and telling him to come downstairs, even as he parks and gets out to go meet him by the elevators in the lobby.
He's nervous, but he thinks that this might actually go well. He might actually pull it off.
All that is to say that Lee feels woefully prepared to plan a birthday for his-- whatever George is. Boyfriend? That feels so juvenile, like it isn't important enough.
He stresses about it more than he probably needs to, but he's never had the opportunity to celebrate something like this with someone he cares about. Which is already sort of a big deal, but George was the lover of a literal king and was undoubtedly showered with expensive gifts on a regular basis. Lee has no idea how to compete with that, even though he can hear George's voice in his head telling him that it isn't a competition. Which is good, because he'd probably lose.
The actual night isn't much of a problem. He comes up with a plan pretty easily, one that's simple but romantic, he thinks. It's the gift that's the problem. Because nothing in this whole goddamn city is good enough for George. Nothing that he can afford, anyway.
Just days before, he still hasn't found anything and he's getting sort of desperate. He distracts himself by going on a hunt because he really does need to eat, which sort of just makes him feel worse because of the guilt. But the guy is (was) a verified scumbag and women walking alone at night will be safer without him around, so he doesn't feel too bad.
In the guy's pocket is a receipt for a pawn shop that Lee has never heard of, so he goes to check it out the next day. It's in a terrible part of town and there isn't really even a sign. Inside it's dusty and unorganized and Lee just assumes it's some sort of front for something else. Still, he decides to look around while some guy comes out from the back and eyes him with wary suspicion, like he's surprised to see someone in the shop at all.
He finds a dusty jewelry display case and heads toward it hopefully, crouching down in front of it. Inside are mostly gold chains and tennis bracelets, all generic shit that wouldn't suit George at all, and he's about to give up when he spots a blue velvet box tucked back into a corner, half-hidden under a gaudy necklace. It looks like earrings and Lee rises to his feet and coolly asks to take a look at them, not wanting to show any excitement and inadvertently drive the price up. He knows how these places operate.
The guy takes them out of the case and Lee picks them up, doing his best to keep a placid expression even though he's pretty sure he just found what he's looking for. The box looks well-preserved but very old, as do the earrings themselves. He has no idea if the stones are real, but they look like it. There's a small piece of yellowed paper tucked inside, and when Lee discreetly unfolds it he finds elegant cursive scrawl and, most importantly, it's dated 1827. That confirms that they’re old, probably very old, and this guy doesn’t seem to really realize what he has. They're perfect.
Lee is prepared to use every trick in his arsenal to haggle a deal, but it's not even that hard. The guy seems wholly uninterested in this alleged business, and Lee is annoying and persistent, so he ends up getting them for a price that, while painful, won't leave him destitute. When he leaves the shop, earrings tucked carefully into his pocket, he feels lighter than he has in days.
George's birthday comes and they sleep in, then fuck a few times and sleep some more. Lee makes them a late lunch and then tells George that he needs to go run a few errands before they go to dinner, but there's an obvious twinkle in his eye. He leaves George's apartment and goes to his own where he's left all the supplies, and then goes and sets everything up before heading back toward George's building, texting him and telling him to come downstairs, even as he parks and gets out to go meet him by the elevators in the lobby.
He's nervous, but he thinks that this might actually go well. He might actually pull it off.

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He pauses, looking slightly bashful. “It was fun. I liked doing it. I like having someone to do stuff like this for.”
Lee scoots a little closer and sets down two paper plates and some plastic cutlery, taking the lids off of everything. “I’ve never been to a birthday party before. I’ve never really celebrated my own. But I wanted to— I dunno. I wanted yours to be special.”
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"It is, already," says George, watching Lee for a long moment before he takes a sip of his wine. "I've never had a birthday party before. I don't think anyone really did, except for the King and Queen. St George's day is the 23rd April. I might have had sweets then."
He surveys the food that Lee's laid out in front of them, the quiet beauty of the scene beyond. "This, though?" He leans in and presses a kiss to the hinge of Lee's jaw. "This is splendid."
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“I’m glad,” Lee tells him, staring at him for a long moment. This late in the summer, the sun is still lingering just above the horizon, painting the sky purple and gold. It’s a beautiful sunset, but Lee hasn’t even noticed. His attention is firmly elsewhere.
“So, what’s George the saint of?” Lee asks curiously, taking a sip from his own wine and reaching for a strawberry and dipping it in chocolate sauce, looking at George as he bites into the end of it.
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"England," says George, simply, leaning forward to start adding things to his plate ."Though he also has a soft spot for soldiers." He chooses a variety of things and settles back to taste them. "He slayed a dragon, in the story." He smiles. "My nurse used to tell it to me when I was little."
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“I told you a fairytale,” he reminds George with a soft smirk. “It’s only fair.”
He looks at George with rapt attention, eager to just listen to him talk.
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As they settle, George tells the story as he remembers it being told to him -- the distant country, plagued by a terrible foe, all means of tribute exhausted but for the beautiful daughter of the King. The hero with his sword shining in the sun. The terrible lizard laid asunder. The church built on the spot where the dragon died, and the spring that cured all illness.
He blushes, faintly. "A silly story, really. My brothers were both named for Apostles. George was technically for my father, but my mother always said it was for the Saint." He takes a swallow of wine. "I don't know where they got Susan from."
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“It’s not any sillier than any of the other stories,” Lee says with a shrug, tearing off a piece of bread and stuffing a piece of cheese inside. “Being named after a dragon slaying saint is pretty cool.”
His brow furrows slightly and he curls in on himself a little. “I don’t know where my name came from. I doubt there was much thought behind it.”
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George frowns at the shift in Lee's posture, leaning in to press a kiss against the side of his face.
"I'd never heard the name Lee before I met you," he says, softly. "You're an entirely new and miraculous thing."
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“And you’re a miracle,” Lee assures him, pressing their foreheads together for a long moment and then kissing him again, reaching up to touch his cheek.
He grins suddenly, looking tentatively proud of himself. “Do you want to see what I made for dessert?”
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He turns his head, pressing a kiss against the heel of Lee's hands. He can't help but smile at the shift in Lee's expression.
"Of course," he says.
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“Happy birthday, dear George,” he says in a singsongy sort of voice, chuckling bashfully. “Happy birthday to you.”
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"You did not." He remembers dreamily telling Lee about his favourite dessert, about his nurse making possets when he was a child and sick in bed. His eyes prickle with tears, but then his eyebrows tug together. "But why is there a candle?"
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“Well, that answers that question,” Lee says with a happy laugh, endlessly charmed. “It’s tradition to put candles on a birthday cake when I come from. You’re supposed to make a wish and then blow out the candle.”
He laughs again, feeling so happy he could burst. “There’s a whole song. I gave you a hint of it.”
Lee sets his own jar down so he can hold George’s out to him with both hands, watching as the light from the candle illuminates his face. “Go on. Make a wish in your head. You’re not supposed to say it out loud.”
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George looks slightly dubious, but Lee is so pleased with himself and so happy and George just...he loves him. He can't even try and deny it to himself. Rolling his eyes fondly, feeling a little silly, he leans in and blows out the candle. What he wishes was for is more. More of this.
"Do I get to try it now?"
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“Yeah. I hope it’s okay. I found the recipe online but I’ve never had it before so I don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like,” Lee says, realizing that he’s rambling due to nerves and biting the inside of his cheek to stop it. “Here.”
He hands George his jar and then picks up his own, digging into it with a spoon while trying not to stare at George expectantly.
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Aware that Lee is watching him, George takes his first bite. It doesn't taste exactly the same -- where was Lee going to get sack in a place like this -- but it has notes of sweets wine and honey and the lemon and it does taste like being five again.
He grins.
"Love..."
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“Yes, love?” He replies with a happy grin, feeling nearly giddy. He didn’t know he could be this happy. “You like it?”
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"I do," says George, emphatically, taking another large spoonful as proof. "It's...lovely. I don't think anyone's ever given me a gift like this before." So heartfelt and genuine, based in effort, not wealth. It's perfect.
"Thank you."
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“You’re welcome,” Lee says softly, ducking his head to hide his pleased smile as he takes another bite. He mixes the dessert with his spoon, staring over at George for a long moment.
“You’re the first person who has ever made me feel like I was doing something right,” he admits, expression soft and vulnerable. “Like I wasn’t just a problem, or in the way. I— I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
He clears his throat and swallows hard, shrugging his shoulders a bit and taking another bite of his dessert.
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"You're never a problem to me," says George, meaning to utterly. He reaches out to press his hand between Lee's shoulderblades, rubbing small circles over the fabric of his shirt.
"What do you think? You've never had this before either, right?"
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But he’s not going to let those thoughts creep in right now. Not tonight. It’s special, and he just wants to enjoy it.
Lee twists so he can press a kiss into the inside of George’s arm, snapping his teeth playfully before straightening up again.
“I haven’t, no. It’s really good,” Lee assures him, licking another bite from the spoon. “I’ll make it for you whenever you want.”
He likes cooking more and more, he’s discovering. It’s a lot easier when he has a reliable kitchen and a stocked pantry.
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George contentedly eats his posset and, once it's done, he reaches for his wine.
"What else do you have planned?" he asks. "If this is it, then it's still the loveliest thing."
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Lee chuckles at that, finishing his own dessert and looking over at George. He smiles and collects the jars to set them back into the tote, then takes out a small blue gift bag containing the earrings.
"Mostly just this. We could swim, or stargaze. Whatever you want," Lee says, smirking coyly because he has a pretty good idea of at least one thing they might get up to, but he'll leave it up to George to make the first move. "Bible study, perhaps."
He fiddles with the bag for a moment and then reaches over to set it in front of George, trying hard not to be nervous. Everything else is going so well, and he hopes this will, too. "And I got you this."
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"Swimming sounds nice," says George, picking up the bag. "You told me before that you'd sometimes sleep in the truck? We could do they."
Inside the bag is a box and George takes it out, and then opens it carefully. He stares at what's inside for a long time.
"Oh," he says.
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Lee isn't really sure what to make of George's reaction, or lack thereof. He doesn't seem disappointed, really. He seems to just go kind of still and Lee tries not to fidget.
"They're two hundred years old," Lee says after a moment, reaching over to tap the small note tucked into the box. It's a love note written in looping script, probably tucked away in the box since they were originally given as a gift from one lover to another, and Lee decided to leave it there. He thought it was fitting. "So not quite from where you're from, but kind of in the middle of the two of us. I thought that was nice."
He swallows hard and stares at George's face, unsure of what to say. The more he'd stared at the earrings, the more he liked them. He liked how the blue stones are elegant and smooth, and the red stones more sharp. He could picture George in them so clearly. Well, one of them, at least. "I think the stones are real, but I'm honestly not sure. I just-- I found them and I wanted you to have them."
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