Chapter Text
Edward has always had the gift, if it is a gift, of recovering his faculties quickly after sex. George is much the same, in his experience — it had been John who would freeze, realise exactly what he had just done, and with whom he had done it, after he finished. And then, he would need to be gently coaxed back to the real world — but Edward and George had both been quite able to bear that.
That, though, had only been a necessity because they generally had something that they needed to do — or more often to return to doing — and couldn’t afford to spend the rest of the night distracted by each other. There is nothing, now, that either Edward or George needs to do until tomorrow, and that isn’t until the mid-afternoon.
They do, though, have time to talk. They just need to get their breath back first.
“I believe I’ve fallen out of practice,” Edward laughs, as George rolls off from on top of him. “In fact— in fact I know I have.”
They’re both breathing incredibly heavily, such that even out of the corner of his eye Edward can clearly see the movement of George’s chest. Edward is sure that he’ll feel this tomorrow, and probably for a good few days thereafter. And he’s more than sure that, when they see each other again tomorrow, James will notice that Edward is suddenly a good deal stiffer in his gait after reuniting with somebody he has all but said he planned to sleep with.
“I believe I have as well,” George says.
“Christ,” Edward says, before he can really think. George makes a slightly quizzical noise in response. Edward rolls towards him, and hooks his leg over George’s waist. “If that was out of practice, then I believe I ought not to allow you any practice at all from now on.”
“Well, if you plan to turn to celibacy then I suppose I can’t stop you,” George teases back.
“I’ll allow you to watch.” Edward glances upwards towards George to make sure that this admission has the intended effect. It indeed does. “On the way back to Guernsey, perhaps. You saw what I brought with me.” His head is resting against George’s chest, and so it’s very easy for Edward to lean down and kiss him there. George hums softly, in his throat, and threads his fingers softly through Edward’s hair.
“It is… it is really quite the collection,” George purrs.
Edward is completely exhausted to the extent that he can barely even begin to contemplate turfing the topmost layer of bedspreads off the bed, let alone actually do it. Were he not, though, he thinks that George saying that to him, in that tone of voice, would be enough for him to climb on top of him and ride him to a second orgasm. He knows for a fact that George can go again remarkably quickly, or at least he had been able to when they had been on board Terror. And even could he not, well, Edward has clearly prepared for that eventuality.
“There’s a bottle of wine in there too, actually, if you want it,” Edward says. He feels George try to suppress a laugh. “If you make that joke—”
“Ah, you’re the one who’s made it now,” George says. “But I’ve never been much of a drinker. And I think I would rather not have a hangover on the way back home tomorrow.”
Edward laughs. “Well, my brother insisted.”
Edward hopes, in spite of the person that George is, that the hints that he’s dropping will clue George in that James won’t be one to cause any problems for them. He thinks that the noise George makes means that he realises — but it could as well be that George is simply dozing off.
He hasn’t actually said to James in so many words that he and George had what they did on board Terror, although he’s talked around the subject so much that James can no doubt see the shape of the admission. He imagines that they’ll talk about it tomorrow. Between the fact that Edward knows it will show on his face that he’s far more relaxed and the fact that he’s sure to be a little sore from just having spent the evening being taken so thoroughly that his head is still spinning from it.
James will have questions about Edward’s night, no doubt, and he won’t just be asking after the wine.
“And tomorrow…?” George asks.
“Hm?” Edward goes to prop himself up on his forearm to look at George properly. He’s pulled back down immediately, but he decides that he likes that far more. “Well — we leave mid-afternoon,” Edward starts, “and then we’ll arrive in Saint Peter Port early the next morning. Probably before it gets light, although they do tend to be rather… gradual.”
Going from Guernsey to Portsmouth, Edward would have described the speed of the steamer barge as infuriating, in spite of his understanding that pushing the vessel too hard in a storm was a terrible idea for all concerned. He isn’t so sure that he minds how long it takes them to make it back from Portsmouth to Saint Peter Port, though. Not if George is with him; and especially not if George is there in the cabin with him.
“My brother has very sensibly booked himself a cabin on a different deck to us entirely, by the way,” Edward laughs. He hears George chuckle. “But — probably not so many passengers at this time of year.” He glances up again at George, who is looking at him with rather an odd expression. “Vile weather, for one thing,” he says, “and—”
“That’s all very well, Edward,” George says, still laughing fondly, “and I’m glad to hear we shall have the space to ourselves for further… activities, but I’m more thinking of tomorrow’s date.”
“The… date?”
Edward can only think that it’s rather close to Christmas, and to the Solstice, but neither of those have any particular personal significance. Or at least no more than they do to any other person, Edward supposes. He doubts, too, that either of them matter particularly strongly to George, and neither of them is especially the type to want to mark anniversaries. (That was a conversation that they had had on board Terror, and been quite glad to discover that they were in agreement about.)
“Edward — pet — the fourteenth is your birthday.” George sounds somewhere between amused and bemused at Edward’s ability to forget this. The tone of his voice makes Edward start laughing, and then he can feel that it sets George off too. “Did you really—?”
“I did,” Edward laughs. “Really.” He looks up at George. “Well — I suppose that explains my brother’s insistence that I take the wine,” he says. He rolls his eyes at himself, and then turns to lean his head against George’s chest again. “I don’t know how…” He laughs, again.
“Well, I’m glad to have been able to remind you,” George says, his tone playful.
“Hm.”
Edward’s hand is on George’s chest — but as soon as he realises just how clearly he can feel all of his bones he has to move it so that he doesn’t start crying. He reaches over to take hold of George’s hand instead. He can just hope that George is still distracted from his earlier foible and doesn’t notice the sudden change in Edward’s attitude.
“Now… Now perhaps we ought to sleep.”
George says this sincerely enough, and Edward cannot deny just how exhausted he sounds; nor can he deny how exhausted he is him. But, as he says it, George slowly traces the tip of one finger down Edward’s spine in a way that makes Edward’s breath catch in his throat and has his hips pushing forward against George without his thinking to do it. He feels George laugh, and when Edward leans up to kiss him, George’s hands wrap around his hips.
“You’re right,” Edward says. “But first… we ought to get rid of…” He gestures to the bedspread that they’ve been on top of for the last few minutes. It will be quite clear, in the morning, what has taken place on it. “Or we could steal it, perhaps.” He makes a face as he shoves it off the bed.
George laughs. He shuffles over to one side to let Edward get rid of the covers, and of their discarded clothes, and everything else that they had had on the bed with them. When Edward comes back up, George pulls the covers back so that the two of them can crawl under them together.
Edward should almost certainly ask about nightmares.
When Edward had first come home he had found it reassuring when his family had asked, especially since they had all known exactly the words to do so without prodding. But he doesn’t know what those words are, even if, with George, he has no issue coming across as awkward. George hasn’t with him either; that had been clear over the last few minutes.
Edward sleeps especially well that night.
Perhaps that isn’t a surprise, or at least perhaps it shouldn’t be if he has any sense, but somehow it still is. It’s been months, after all, since he’s been able to sleep properly no matter what he does: and he thinks that he’s tried a truly ridiculous number of things to sleep better.
It makes sense to him that what he really needed was just to have George back in his life. But he also isn’t surprised that it hadn’t consciously occurred to him before now. Not because he hadn’t been thinking of George, of course — God knows that is all he has done in the last half a year — but because he knows logically that he wouldn’t be able to face the knowledge that George isn’t there.
And, a part of Edward’s mind that he ordinarily curtails but which has been fully reawakened of late puts in, George has shown quite a skill for keeping him exhausted. Perhaps it’s no wonder that he falls asleep as soon as their conversation is over and doesn’t wake for the entire night.
Unfortunately, though, Edward is particularly stiff the next morning. But that, too, he supposes is only to be expected. Even though he had been careful — and he had insisted that George be careful too, knowing that he enjoys it — it had been some months since he had last done anything as intense as that.
Well, at least he knows he will be given plenty of opportunities to adjust over the next few weeks. He’s particularly looking forward to it, in fact.
Edward sleeps well enough, in fact, that George is already awake and getting dressed by the time Edward begins to surface. He shuffles over in the bed, and looks over towards the basin where he can hear George is.
He’s already dressed, even, a fact which doesn’t necessarily surprise Edward considering the hell that he knows George to have been put through. George had managed to avoid allowing Edward to see any physical evidence of what had happened to him on board Stirling Castle. Edward also thinks that first thing in the morning might be too early to start asking questions.
He sits up in bed instead, trying to give George some warning that he’s awake rather than startling him with it. He remembers that George had always been twitchy about being expected to start ‘performing’ (as it were) first thing in the morning. Even if it’s just them, Edward doesn’t expect that he’ll be any keener on it now than he had then.
“Oh.” Edward can tell that he has made the right decision just from how George jolts at the sound of him moving on the bed. “I— I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks.
“Mm?” Edward isn’t quite awake enough yet to be ready to have a proper conversation. That takes him by surprise, although it doesn’t frustrate him as much as it would have before today. “No. No, I… Come over here?”
Edward indicates for George to come over to the bed, rather than staying over where he is. George does so, and he does it far more willingly now than he had the previous night. He sits cross-legged beside Edward, on top of the sheets, and reaches over to put his arms around him.
Edward leans into it. He leans into it even more when he feels George begin to kiss him, and then more still when George’s hand begins to wander down his body.
Edward supposes that he should probably feel a little more insecure than he does now, considering that George is fully dressed and he very much is not. And, since they’re staying in a hotel and not just in Edward’s home, it should probably occur to Edward that this was particularly a mistake on his part.
It then occurs to Edward that it’s very much their home now, and not just his. It will probably be an adjustment to be living together, of course — but it will also probably be a positive one.
“I don’t remember you particularly liking mornings,” George says, slightly teasingly. “I thought you might want to sleep in a bit.”
“Well, I certainly appreciate that.”
Edward would like to demand that George just get back into bed with him again. But he also hasn’t the first clue what time it is, and the last thing that either of them needs is some poor housekeeper walking in on them together. Perhaps this is a hotel where the worst that would happen would just be embarrassment, thanks to James’ knowledge of that particular scene. But Edward also doesn’t want to start their life together like that. No doubt George doesn’t either.
And then they’ve a barge to catch to get back to Guernsey in the evening, and no doubt James will want to check on Edward to make sure that things had gone well the previous night. Although, well, it seems as though James had been counting on it going well; he wouldn’t have chosen this hotel had he not been. And he wouldn’t have asked — luckily while Edward had been out of his earshot, lest Edward just die of the embarrassment — for a room on a different floor.
“I know you do.”
George presses a brief kiss to Edward’s mouth. Then, he begins to work his way down Edward’s body, starting by only barely touching his lips to Edward’s neck but building in intensity as he moves. There’s no real pattern to it; and Edward can tell that he’s just trying to work out where to touch to get the best reaction out of him.
Well, if that is the case, and Edward strongly believes that it must be, then George is in luck. There are very few areas of Edward’s body that aren’t incredibly sensitive at present. And perhaps it wouldn’t take long, with how needy they both are at the moment — and they could still be out before anybody who works here would take notice.
Edward certainly hopes so.
“Well?”
George looks up at Edward from between his thighs. He’s pulled the covers back a bit, or perhaps Edward has in his eagerness for George to do something to him. But, just like the previous night, George doesn’t touch him just yet.
Edward feels this to be very unfair indeed. But he’s sure that George knows that; he has the expression of somebody who is completely aware of his ability to send his partner completely mad.
“Well,” Edward gasps, “I think you should at least take something off, if you’re going to do that.” He squirms around a little so that the covers are only down to his knees. “It would only be fair, since you have me completely naked.”
“After I only just dressed?” George teases him. Edward rolls his eyes. “Well — perhaps I could be convinced.”
He sits up between Edward’s thighs. Edward can see how hard George is as soon as he does, and he knows for a fact then that he’ll not just be getting what he wants but what they both want.
“Would being reminded of what I brought along with me be enough to convince you, perhaps?” Edward asks. George leans in closer and kisses him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Oh, certainly.”
George shifts his weight to allow Edward to reach down and begin unfastening his trousers. And, of course, since George insists on wearing braces, he will no doubt have to take everything else off to remove them.
But George certainly knows this: in fact, he probably had exactly this in mind from the second he started trying to turn Edward on. After all, not only is George no idiot, he’s not inexperienced. Especially not where these sorts of things are concerned.
“So?” Edward asks.
George begins unfastening his waistcoat, and then untying his cravat. Edward would suppose that to be an answer of itself, and he supposes even more than he’s received an answer when George guides Edward’s hand between his thighs.
“I’m sure you can tell.” George’s voice catches in his throat as Edward’s hand wraps around him. “Should I get the—” He tips his head towards the side of the bed where Edward had left the bottle of oil and the toy that they had used last night.
“Mm.” Edward squeezes his palm around George’s cock before he takes his hand away fully. George whines. “Go on, then?”
George does as he had said he would; no doubt he’s just as keen to get started now as Edward is. He ducks down briefly, and a few seconds later returns with the bottle of oil in his hand.
“Did you want one of the?— oh.”
Edward answers the question before George can even ask it. He pulls George’s trousers the rest of the way down, and waits as George takes them off, and then the rest of his clothes.
Once anything that doesn’t need oil on it is out of the way — that really only being George’s clothes and the covers — Edward pours some of the stuff out onto his hand. He strokes George with it for a few seconds, but George pushes his hand away before Edward can get him to a point where he seems about to finish.
George takes over then, and Edward couldn’t be more thrilled.
George pulls Edward down so that he’s lying on the bed rather than sitting and, as Edward had hoped that he would last night, he begins by easing himself inside. Edward is still slick from their activities last night and so all he does — all he feels that he needs to do, even — is to wrap his arms around him.
George’s hand reaches down between Edward’s legs and even though Edward is sure that it will be over practically before it starts he allows it. He knows George; he knows him well enough to be able to feel that he’s close but he doesn’t want to come first this time.
“Sit up a bit.” Edward kisses George as he mumbles this.
George makes a noise against his lips as he brushes his thumb against Edward’s clit, and then again as his thumb begins to work in circles around him. Edward gasps and tenses around him, but he still manages to keep himself from finishing immediately that he’s touched.
“Should I still…?” George pulls away for a second.
Edward shakes his head. “Just— please—”
“I want you to finish first this time.”
George doesn’t slow down, even as he pulls Edward’s hips up to find a more pleasurable angle for the both of them. He wraps his thumb and forefinger around Edward’s clit and begins to stroke him, slowly at first.
Edward doesn’t know that he could stop himself from coming now, even if he wanted to. He shifts so that his knees are almost pressed back against his chest, and as he does he feels his clit jump under George’s fingers.
It’s enough instantly; it’s even more than enough and he has to cover his mouth so that he doesn’t scream or make some other too-loud noise. Edward doesn’t even get the opportunity to tell George that he’s about to come as he tenses around him and pushes his hips up against George’s.
It looks as though it takes George by surprise too, but Edward can’t blame him for that. He doesn’t take his hand away from Edward’s clit and rubs him through it as he finishes too. He pulls out a second before he does, and somehow it’s more arousing for Edward to see him finish over his thighs and belly than to feel it inside.
“Christ.” Edward can feel just how heavily he’s breathing. He wonders if he ought to be embarrassed about that, but then decides that there’s no point to it.
“Quite.” George rolls off from on top of him, but he pulls Edward over with him as he does. “Ah — your brother wasn’t staying in the room next door, was he?”
“God no,” Edward laughs. “James has — he has far more sense than that.” He can tell that George isn’t asking because he’s genuinely concerned. He’s glad to be able to make a joke. “He’s a floor down, I believe.”
And even that’s only if James hasn’t already packed up and left to wander around the town before Edward and George get up. Edward certainly wouldn’t put it past him to do so, to completely avoid any awkward conversations — or, more accurately, any awkward omissions from the conversation. Since he hasn’t met George yet, or at least since he hasn’t been properly introduced, it would probably be awkward even for him.
George snorts. “That’s a relief.” He pauses. “I’m sure I asked all of this yesterday, but… I wasn’t really paying too much attention.” Edward can tell that this is not only because of the promise of what they had done last night, and then repeated this morning. “I’m sure you understand.”
Edward nods. “He won’t mind if you want to be left alone, either,” he says. “I haven’t told him everything, but— probably enough that he won’t mind if you aren’t ready for…” He gestures.
“If you’re sure he won’t be upset.”
“Of course not,” Edward says.
He thinks of mentioning that James had been the one looking after him after he had returned six months ago. James hadn’t called in out of Edward’s asking him to when Edward had received Sir James’ letter about George, either. That had all been because he had wanted to take care of him again, having intuited that the winter might be unreasonably hard on him.
But he knows that George has a horrible relationship with his own family. He doesn’t want to seem as though he’s rubbing that in, even though that’s far from his intention. Better, probably, that he just leave it rather than accidentally come over badly.
“And when we get home,” Edward goes on. Then, he stops as soon as he starts the sentence. “…I was about to say it would just be us. I do have a dog, but he’s… My sister is looking after him for the time being.”
“Ah.” George looks away for a second, but then looks back. “She…?”
“Knows something, I imagine,” Edward says, “but doesn’t mind not asking for more details than I’ve given her.” A sensible decision on Margaret’s part, even though Edward would very much like to talk about everything. “And she wanted to take care of him over Christmas, to have some company other than the children while her husband is away.”
George looks blank for a second, but Edward doesn’t think that’s because he’s said completely the wrong thing. Edward reaches over to put a hand on his arm, though, just in case he has mis-stepped and George isn’t sure how to explain it to him.
“I’m not — uh…” George seems a little surprised that Edward had even thought that much of his feelings. “I’m sorry. I— you’ve heard me complaining about my family, I’m sure.” Edward nods. “I’m sure my siblings would not… be able to show that level of consideration for each other, even if I was completely out of the picture, so you might as well be speaking Greek.”
George laughs, but Edward suspects that that’s more to dispel any thought that he might be hurt, or out of awkwardness, than it is out of actual humour. Either way, he nods and puts his arms around George again.
“I’m sorry.” Edward kisses his shoulder. “I’ll not—”
“Oh, no, no,” George says softly. “I don’t mind, really, I just… I didn’t want you to think that you’d…” He shakes his head. “In any case. I don’t know that I’m ready to meet the rest of your family just yet,” he explains, “but… But I’m glad to know they won’t be like mine. For your sake as much as my own.”
“Mm.” Edward has George leaning against him now. “But I can’t help but think that if we don’t get up some time today we will likely never return home.”
George snorts with laughter. “Well, if you will distract me when I’m already dressed to leave.”
“I woke up.” Edward had not, however, minded being woken up in that way. In fact he would probably take that over waking up on his own, or because the dog had started whining to go out, any day.
“And—”
“But, if you’re going to start out by praising me, then I certainly won’t object.”
Edward puts his finger under George’s chin and tips his head up so that he can kiss him again. George laughs, and presses himself fully against Edward. And, of course, as soon as he does, Edward wishes that they did have the time — and that they had the inclination, really — to begin again.
But, of course, there are plenty of other things that ought to be dealt with. And so, even though he would much prefer that they spend the rest of the day in bed, Edward gently nudges George away so that they can dress again.
“We’ll be able to go again, of course,” he says, “when we’re on the way back.”
“We’ll have to be quiet again, no doubt,” George teases.
He has already started putting his clothes back on, which isn’t much of a surprise but which Edward is still already thinking of removing from him again as soon as the opportunity is presented to him. Rather than carry on thinking about that, Edward leaves George to carry on getting dressed while he cleans himself up.
“Well,” Edward says, “since you remembered my birthday while I forgot—” He gets a snort of laughter out of George for this. “I’ll let you work out on your own what you’re going to do about that.”
“Oh, I will.”