atehimrightup | happy birthday, george

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george

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.

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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..."

The smile on George’s face makes Lee feel like he’s dying, but in a good way. And then there’s that pet name again, and it’s a wonder that Lee doesn’t just melt into a puddle.

“Yes, love?” He replies with a happy grin, feeling nearly giddy. He didn’t know he could be this happy. “You like it?”

"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."

It’s exactly the kind of response that he was hoping for. Lee can’t shower him with jewels, but he can show George that he cares, that he listens, and that he’s willing to put in effort to make him happy.

“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.

"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?"

“I don’t ever want to be,” Lee says with the sincerity of someone who knows very well that they might be someday. Whether he likes it or not.

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.

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."

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."

"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.

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."

"You talk a lot when you're anxious," says George, stirring the earrings with the tip of his finger against the velvet that they're pinned to. "Have I ever told you that?"

Carefully, he removes the earring that he's wearing, licking forefinger and thumb and rubbing them over his earlobe before he picks up one of the earrings that Lee has gifted him and, with a moment of concentration, puts it on.

"What do you think?" He turns his head slightly.

Lee’s mouth snaps shut and he flushes self-consciously, shaking his head a little. Because no, he was not aware.

He stays quiet and takes it as a good sign when George immediately switches out his earring, smiling softly and nodding.

“Beautiful,” he assures him.

"I love them," he says, leaning in to press a kiss to Lee's mouth before he carefully closes the box and puts it back in the gift bag. "I think this might be the best birthday I've ever had. Thank you."

Lee’s smile widens and he leans in to meet the kiss, reaching up to cup his jaw, touching the earring with the tip of his finger.

“That’s what I was going for,” he says simply, kissing George again and breathing in deeply, finally relaxing entirely. He did it, and it went well. He didn’t fuck it up. “You’re welcome, baby.”

"Mmmmm..." He makes a soft sound against Lee's lips. "I want to get a little drunk and fuck and swim and fuck again." He leans back, grinning. "That's what else I want for my birthday."

Lee laughs at that, moving in closer so he can wrap his arm around George’s shoulders and nuzzle at his cheek, kissing his way over to his ear and brushing his lips against the lobe before George pulls back enough to look at him.

“I feel like I can probably make that happen,” he says in a low voice, nudging their noses together. “I also brought weed. And yes,” he continues, kissing George again. “We can sleep in the truck.”

"I'd take stoned over drunk," he says, chasing after another kiss. He's never felt so able to be himself as he is around Lee. Like he doesn't have to pretend to be anything other than what he is. It's glorious. "But I definitely want to swim. And fuck."

“We can get stoned and go swimming,” Lee assures him, smiling and shifting his weight so he can pull the plastic tube holding the joint and his lighter out of his pocket.

“And then we’ll see about the rest of it,” he teases with a smirk, curling his hand around the back of George’s neck and pulling him for another kiss, this one deeper and full of promise.

"Because that part usually takes so much persuading on either of our parts," he says, nipping at Lee's bottom lip before he lies back, watching his weight on his elbows. "I really do love it here. It feels a little like where I grew up."

“Yeah, you’ll have to try and get me in the mood,” he says dryly, slipping the joint between his lips and lighting it, inhaling deeply and turning to straddle George’s lap, leaning down to exhale the smoke into his mouth.

“Does it?” He asks curiously, lifting his head to look around. “I really do love it out here. It’s better with you.”

Lee settles across his hips and George's hands slide up his thighs as he inhales fragrant smoke.

"Yes," he says. "The water. The trees. I like it better with you, though."

“Mm, maybe you’ll have to bring your stable boy out here sometime,” he says with a smirk, fully expecting George to tease him for it. He takes another deep inhale and brushes his lips against George’s as he exhales, holding the joint aside as they share the smoke back and forth between kisses.

He pulls back and puts the end of the joint between George’s lips, thumbing at the corner of his mouth. Even though George is sitting right under him, he still feels too beautiful to be real.

“Think you’ll ever get sick of me telling you how hot you are?” He teases, grinning widely. He suspects he knows the answer to that one.

"Mmmmm," says George, taking one hand away from Lee to hold the joint. "Fuck him into the grass and remind him who pays his keep." He pinches Lee's hip lightly through his shirt. "Gremlin."

He grins at the next comment, exhaling as he shakes his head.

"Never."

“You have to show him who’s boss sometimes,” Lee replies solemnly, though he laughs and squirms when George pinches it. “You love it.”

He takes the joint back and turns his head a little to take a drag, keeping his eyes on George’s as he does.

“It’s literally stupid how beautiful you are,” he says with his lungs full of smoke, leaning in to share it with George. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

"It's like you don't see yourself," he says, his hand slipping up under Lee's shirt to press against bare skin. "How beautiful you are. Why do you think I was so easy to fuck, that first time?" He smiles. "Look at you."

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