Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Countless fans fill the halls as he adjusts his backpack, and Lucius is filled with anxiety as he passes security and collects his lanyard, shuffling into the main hall. He's only here for one night, unable to take more time away from work and college. His free time is limited enough; he's limiting himself further by attending this event. 

But when he'd heard that his favourite actor was at a convention a few hours away, he knew he had to book it.

He wouldn't be able to do the full event and travel back home in one day, but he could travel back home tomorrow instead. His roommate was equally excited; the prospect of a night alone was often enough for Pete to encourage Lucius to travel further and do more things alone.

It's a raft of noise as he steps into the main hall. On one side, there are rows of stalls, all selling merchandise and media for a variety of fandoms, though very few have any for his favourite show.

It’s a damned shame that he's always struggled to find merchandise at these events, instead sourcing from people on Tumblr, or other custom art stores. There are undoubtedly sites that rip the fan art and put them on cheap key rings, but he would much rather fund the artists directly, even if it does cost a small fortune each time he wants a new pin or key ring. 

At the other side of the hall, there's a line of tables with long queues at the edge of each one. On the other side of each table, there are celebrities seated. Some are more well-known than others, but there’s only one person whom Lucius has made the journey for.

The one person he's paid to see is in the far corner, a smaller queue than most, but he's got a wide smile on his face as he interacts with fans, spending several minutes with each person. Those interactions are only a part of what makes him Lucius' favourite actor.

Lucius has been a fan for years. He can't recall what show introduced them, but he does recall how he was enamoured by the man's voice, his eyes, and his range of skills. It was so easy to become enraptured with an actor who is far better than anybody else that Lucius has seen.

And he's met the man before at another convention like this, several years ago. Lucius may have met countless guests over the last few years, but none were as kind and attentive as Israel Hands.

Lucius recalls how the first time they'd met, he was having a panic attack, and the man was far kinder than anyone else had been. He talked Lucius out of the anxiety and even gave him a tight hug, unprompted. He’d held Lucius’ hands, their eyes locked in a trance that didn’t falter once.  

It's Lucius' favourite memory; he's never going to forget that day.

The world was a cruel place back then; his family had shunned him, and he was drifting from town to town in search of a home. He was given more kindness by a stranger than his family had offered him in the last decade.

He stores the photographs on his phone, on his walls, and in his memory, a reminder of the kindness that he was shown when there was little other kindness around him.

In the months and years that followed, he has occasionally questioned whether he’d still be alive if not for the memory of their gentle embrace and the kindness that carried him through the darkness and the lonely nights. 

He’s not got a schedule today, there’s no specific time slot – and he’s not got an item to be signed, nothing specific anyway. He could get a photo signed, there’s usually a selection of prints at the table, and perhaps there will be one from his favourite show.

As a crowd bustles around him, Lucius feels his anxiety peaking, and he shuffles through the room, finding unexpected comfort in the proximity. The noise in the building is deafening, and he’s grateful for the earplugs that block the countless voices.

He knew it would be this loud; it always is, but somehow, it’s always a surprise when he attends these events. His gaze is pulled from side to side in a sensory overload – the stalls are lined with merchandise for a variety of fandoms and shows.

There are posters, toys, collectable figures, snacks, and so much more that he can't wait to look at. The small amount of cash in his wallet can’t afford him those luxuries, but he does make a mental note of what he sees, memorising it in the quest for a birthday gift for his roommate. And if he's lucky, he may even be able to buy himself something too. 

His gaze is pulled from side to side, each stall bartering for his trade. There’s little that he wants to buy, and nothing catches his attention. He’s seen a few things for Pete already, though, and deciding which to pick may be the hardest task.

The day passes steadily, and it’s a little after lunch when Lucius joins the end of the queue, looking down at his phone while he waits. He can hear the man’s distinctive voice, and Lucius finds himself looking up again.

There are several people in front of him, but there's a familiar shooting in his chest, and his heart leaps when his eyes meet those of Israel Hands.

He’s just another actor, just somebody famous. He’s probably married, too. You're just another fan, he won't recognise you. He doesn't care about you. 

Lucius can’t deny that he’s unsettled by the twisting that fills his chest. It’s inexplicable. He sees the actor, whether on social media or a show, and his heart leaps.

He looks back down at his phone, not looking at anything in particular, but it’s better than indulging that fantasy any further.

It’s silly.

The man is surely married. Why wouldn't he be? The man is utterly stunning, and he's oh so kind; he would be the perfect boyfriend. 

He can’t help it, though. He’d give anything for some time alone with him, away from an event like this, in a place only they know. There are so many things that Lucius wants to ask him, things he wants to tell him too. In the moments they do get, Lucius finds himself speechless; it's like he's forgotten the English language. If only he could have a time with Israel Hands when he wasn't under such pressure.

As the queue shuffles forward, he hears Israel laugh, and his heart flutters. He can barely hide his moan.

He would surely be teased, if not worse, if anybody heard it. How can a man he’s met once previously have such a vast impact on him?

“You’d be surprised,” Israel says, and Lucius sneaks a glance at the man. He’s staring right back at Lucius as he says, “I remember a lot of the people I’ve met at these events before. Some of you guys leave such an impact, I remember the interactions years later...”

Despite the logical side of his brain screaming how it’s not about him, Lucius feels how his heart leaps, and he can only take it personally. Lucius bites back his squeal as his heart pounds painfully, and looks back down at his phone again, waiting for the queue to edge forward. He's the last in the queue, and he's strangely grateful for that. Nobody can judge his social ineptitude when he's looking at Israel Hands, except the man himself. 

After this interaction, he can go and sit upstairs for a few hours. His hotel room is waiting for him, and he can recover from their brief interaction before their photograph is taken later this afternoon. 

He's certain that after that, he'll need to recover again.

It's surely not normal to feel like this about a stranger.

"Hello again," Israel says, looking up at Lucius with a twinkle in his eyes and a familiar smile on his face.

Lucius feels all the breath leave his body at once. 

"Y-you remember me?" he stutters, struggling to stay standing. 

"Of course," Israel smiles, and he winks up at Lucius, "How couldn't I?" 

Lucius bites his lip, unable to respond.

How can he respond to that? 

Chapter Text

The restaurant is quiet around him, and Lucius appreciates the solitude. When travelling, most people go to dinner elsewhere to sample the local culture, and normally, Lucius would too. But he’s got a busy day tomorrow, and he would like to get a head start on his evening.

It’s not that late, barely 7pm, but once he’s eaten, he can go back to his room and settle in with a movie for the night.

He pushes the food around on his plate, not quite as hungry as he’d anticipated when he had ordered the food. Something about the comedown from the emotive high of the day is suppressing his appetite.

His phone is across the table, devoid of any notifications. He still remembers the first time he went to a convention, how his mother had texted him every hour, begging to know that he was okay.

She was proud of the man he had become, proud of the confidence he’d built in the years of his early adulthood, from a man who couldn’t leave the house, to a man travelling across the country to events like these with little hesitation.

That was all before the day he came out, though. The memory of his coming out is one that Lucius shudders when he recalls it.

Perhaps wrongly, he’d assumed that it was obvious he’s queer. At a time when he was losing the stability in his life, and everything felt unsteady, he needed control over something, and that was the only thing he could think of.

In some warped attempt to regain control over his life circumstances, his choice was to come out as gay.

He came out through a letter, left in an envelope as he left for college in the morning. There was no response for two days.

The envelope had remained where he left it for two whole days. He did consider shredding the letter on the first night, hiding it away, and letting it be a memory of a foolish decision. He didn’t, though; he left it there, and his parents found it on the Thursday.

The change in his father was immediate. He wouldn’t even look at Lucius, never mind talking to him.

It took another three days for anything to be said.

And that came in the form of his mother, passing a message from his father. He said not to talk to him, don’t look at him, don’t go near him.

She’d said it so casually that Lucius couldn’t lose the hurt that came with the betrayal. It was as though she was asking him to pick up milk from the store.

He moved out as soon as he could, despite the apology from his parents and the excuses that came when he told them he was leaving - we didn’t expect it. We’re old-fashioned.

It meant nothing to him.

The damage was already done.

Before he can let the memory drag him down further, he’s pulled back to reality by a familiar voice, “Mind if I join you?”

He blinks slightly, trying to shake away the trauma from his mind, before looking up at the other man.

Lucius is stunned, his hand trembling as he pushes a few slivers of lettuce around the mostly full plate.

“I, um, sure, if you want,” he stutters, his eyes wide.

The man smiles. It’s a genuine smile, held only for Lucius. He’s never had somebody make him feel like this.

The chair opposite squeaks as it’s pulled back from the table, and then he’s sitting opposite his favourite actor, like they’re good friends.

Lucius doesn’t know what to say.

“How was the convention?” Israel asks, briefly glancing over the menu, “Did you enjoy it?”

“Um, yeah, I did. I didn’t really do a lot, but it’s my roommate’s birthday soon, so I had a wander around to find him something,” Lucius says, his nerves settling slightly, “I got him some Lego, and I-I, I came to see you, you were the only guest I had planned, honestly. I have to go home around noon tomorrow and look for a new place to live…”

As soon as he’s finished, Lucius realises that he’s overshared far too much in that short conversation. He’s awash with regret, but the man doesn’t move like Lucius has expected him to.

Instead, Israel smiles gently.

“Lego? Which set?” he asks, his eyes focused on Lucius, “I do like Lego.”

“There was a stall selling some custom sets, like, um, like light-sabers from Star Wars,” Lucius explains, and pulls his phone from the table. His hand is trembling as he pulls up the photo he’d taken to show Pete, “They had one of the purple sabers. Pete, my roommate, loves them the most; his favourite character is Mace Windu…”

“I wish I had a roommate like you when I was younger,” Israel says, unaware of how it’s affected Lucius, “I lived with a bunch of frat-boys for the first few years of adulthood… God, it was awful.”

Lucius smiles slightly, “Didn’t you enjoy having a stream of women?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out.

What kind of question is that to ask, Spriggs? You fucking moron.

“It was hell,” Israel laughs, “I was more focused on my classwork. And I wasn’t exactly the one they had eyes for.”

Lucius wants to say they’re idiots, but he’s not sure how well it would be received.

“Enough about me, though,” Izzy shrugs, “I want to know about you, someone who travelled so far to meet me.”

Lucius blinks, trying to process the words that have been spoken. How can he respond to that?

How can he explain that this man essentially saved his life? At a time when Lucius didn’t know how to carry on, the only person who showed him any kindness was a stranger.

“You, um,” Lucius shrugs, “I wanted to thank you, honestly… the last time I met you, I was going through a real bad time. You showed me kindness when nobody else did…”

He looks down at the table, “I wanted to say it earlier… but I just looked at you and I forgot how to speak…”

“You, um, you can… I don’t know what to say,” Israel admits. Almost looks like he's blushing.

Lucius’ cheeks tinge pink, and he looks up at the other man, “You’re really sweet.”

“I try,” Israel winks.

That funny feeling shoots down Lucius’ spine again.

“What’s your evening consisting of?” Israel asks, flicking through the menu with a frown. None of the food sounds particularly appetising.

“Probably just watching a movie,” Lucius admits, unsettled by the monotony of his life, “I, um, I’m on a train at noon, and I need to be prepared and out of here and whatnot. A movie is safe…”

“I do enjoy a good movie night,” Israel has a small smile on his face, “what are you watching?”

Lucius shrugs. He can’t exactly say his movie selection consists of two series that Israel Hands has been in, and one shakily recorded video from one of his theatre shows.

“Depends what’s on Netflix,” it’s an easy lie, one he can get away with. He may watch something from a streaming service, “There’s um, I don’t know a lot of movies…”

“I can recommend a few,” Israel smiles. It’s a gorgeous smile that leaves Lucius’ heart leaping, “My watchlist continues to grow. I have so many things to watch, but I just end up watching the same four shows on repeat.”

Lucius laughs.

Relatable.

“What do you recommend?” Lucius asks, “For someone who’s no good with horrors, hates romance, and most comedy goes over my head.”

The other man frowns for a moment, and Lucius is doubting everything that he’s said. It would be so easy to say the wrong thing and ruin everything he’s got.

“My recommendations were horror,” the man confesses, “Not a fan?”

Lucius shakes his head, “I um, just not great. Get scared by most things…”

Israel slowly nods, “Why don’t I join you, if you want? Is it easier if there’s another person?”

Lucius can feel his heart stutter. He would love to spend time with the other man, but he knows that if they end the night curled up on his bed, he won’t be able to hold back the truths he wants to confess.

“That sounds… yeah…”

Lucius Spriggs, you moron.

Chapter Text

As Lucius emerges from the bathroom, his heart is pounding painfully in his chest. He never thought he would see a sight like this. It's surely a dream; there's no way Israel Hands is sitting on his bed, there's no way that is his reality.

He's pinched his thigh already, but it didn't make this tormenting vision fade. It’s left a small bruise on the inside of his thigh instead.

"Where are you staying?" Lucius asks, though he cringes when he realises how it sounds. It has come across far worse than he intended. He meant to ask if the man was staying too far away that a cab would cost a fortune.

"Floor.... seven, I think." Israel shrugs, patting his pockets in search of his phone.

Lucius can feel his mouth begin to water as he looks at the man, relaxing against the pillows, legs stretched out onto the bed.

He looks positively content.

"Floor seven," Israel confirms, placing his phone aside.

Lucius hesitates as he nods, unsure whether he should crawl onto the bed or whether that would be too inappropriate.

What he desires to do would surely be inappropriate, but to lie beside the other man would surely be heavenly.

His gaze flickers between the bed and the chair in the corner. It doesn't look particularly comfortable, but he's considering that over the alternative, purely for the other man's benefit.

"Lay down," Israel nods to the side of the bed that's waiting for Lucius, "I don't need a big bed to myself."

Lucius nods and pushes his sneakers off before lying back on the bed. He folds an arm behind his head as he hands the remote to the other man. Warmth emanates from the other man and permeates deep into Lucius' soul.

"What do you want to watch?" Israel asks, opening Netflix. Lucius can't speak. He's too caught up in the man's presence; it's stolen his breath and his every thought.

He's admired the actor from the day Lucius first saw him on the screen, and his admiration has only grown as they met. Don't meet your heroes surely doesn't apply in these circumstances. Meeting his hero has been the best days of his life.

To have him so close, it's beyond Lucius' wildest dreams.

He was a horny teenager once; that's an undeniable fact. And he would never confess such a truth, but he may have had a wet dream or two about the man by his side.

Even the most inhumane torture could not make him spill that secret. That will be buried deep and never see the light of day again.

"Oh, um," the expectant gaze from the other man prompts Lucius to speak, and he nods as he tries to come up with an answer for the question, "I don't mind. Just something that's not too scary, you know."

Spriggs, you starstruck fool.

Is this starstruck or lovestruck?

Or both?

He'll either be forgotten by tomorrow, or worse, he'll become a joke. For Israel, it won't be a fond memory; it'll be nothing compared to how Lucius will treasure this memory. It may come up in conversation, a joke amongst the actor and his friends as they laugh over the fan who was beyond infatuated with Israel Hands.

And Lucius doesn't regret it.

"So, horror but not too scary. Short series or a movie?" the man asks, silencing the voice in the back of Lucius' mind. And Lucius knows that it was foolish to have such thoughts. This man is the kindest man on the planet, far kinder than most actors. He wouldn't be such a bully, not at all.

"Probably a movie," Lucius answers, his voice a little less nervous, "I um, I, my train tomorrow. My memory gets bad when I'm tired, and I don't want to risk missing my train, not when a new ticket would deplete my food fund for the month."

Feeling foolish, he stops his nervous rambling and casts his gaze to the television across the room. It's easier to look at the blue light than to face the fool that he's making of himself.

"One movie it is, then," Israel confirms, looking far more content in his surroundings than Lucius feels.

The other man exudes confidence that Lucius could never have. He's too anxious about saying the wrong thing that it's almost too much to say anything at all.

But he won't remain silent.

Being silent would be worse than rambling or making a fool of himself, surely?

Lucius' mind is an exhausting place; he hates the grip his anxiety has over his every thought, his every action, his every single moment is ruined by the anxiety that cripples him.

As the movie begins, Lucius finds himself relaxing a little. He's not a clue what they're watching, and he's certain that he's going to be scared, but the other man was warned. And he opted to follow Lucius up the stairs anyway; given the opportunity to flee, he stayed.

The quiet buzz of his phone prompts Lucius to pull his phone from his pocket. A message from Pete remains unread as he throws his phone aside, too overwhelmed by his current circumstances to think about his roommate.

This will be something they'll talk about when he's back; it'll be a conversation that will leave Pete with a smile, suspecting Lucius of lying undoubtedly.

But this is real.

This is the most real thing in Lucius' life.

A glance to his side sees Israel on his phone, but he places it aside after a moment, and he glances over at Lucius, an unspoken question between them.

You okay?

Lucius slowly nods, glancing over when his phone buzzes again. What could Pete want? What could be so important that he would text Lucius twice, despite knowing that Lucius often doesn't respond to messages when he's away?

With a sigh, Lucius pulls his phone close again. The new notification isn't an unread message, though. It's a post on social media from the man by his side.

He clamps down on the confusion that's surely making itself known as he opens the photo, more than surprised when he finds himself looking at a picture of his legs beside the other man's.

It's clear that Israel Hands is lying on a bed with another man, and the caption is saying something about conventions. In a force of habit, Lucius hits the small heart and puts his phone aside, too overwhelmed to think about that picture.

He can already imagine the comments. Fans are undoubtedly going wild as they speculate over the identity of the man by the actor's side, and if Lucius had a little more coherence in his thoughts, he would be asking something more logical than the thoughts in his mind.

What the hell is going on? How is this real?

But the man's cologne is as intoxicating as his presence, and Lucius is high.

“I’m sure you’re um, I’m sure you’ve got someone you need to call,” Israel says, sounding almost nervous as he stares at the television, “I can go grab something to drink if you want?”

“Nobody to call,” Lucius confesses, a painful truth that he’s come to terms with, “Single. Not quite happy, but it’s my situation for now… Maybe when I’m back home, I’ll look at dating again, I don’t know…”

“I don’t believe you’re single.”

Lucius sees the moment the other man’s eyes widen, something akin to regret flickering over his eyes momentarily, clearly that wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud.

“I, just, I mean,” Israel appears far more anxious as he stutters, “You’re really kind, and funny. And good looking. I would’ve thought you had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend…”

The man’s nervous rambling trails off as Israel shakes his head, “I’m making a fool of myself.”

Lucius smiles slightly and lightly rubs the other man’s shoulder, “don’t worry. I, I feel like that around you…”

Israel smiles slightly, leaning into Lucius’ gentle touch.

“I’m single,” Lucius confirms, “I’ve been so busy with college, getting my life into a place where I can be me… It’s just been on the back burner for so long. And in a lot of ways, it still is. Would I like love? Absolutely. But I don’t have the space in my life for a person who needs so much attention from me…”

“I get that,” Israel nods, and it comforts Lucius to know that his nonsensical rambling was remotely logical to another person.

“I’m single, and dating doesn’t work well in this career. It’s either marriage before, or single for the rest of your life,” Israel explains, “I would love to date, but to go out now and even try… it’s a… People don’t see me; they see the name. Those who know me for me aren’t the people who would want to date me… if that makes sense?”

“It does, but… you’re Israel Hands, there’s a long line of men and women who would give their legs to go on a date with you…” Lucius is mind-blown to hear the words the other man has spoken.

“Firstly, call me Iz… Israel sounds too formal. And secondly, of those men, how many of them only want the money?” Israel laughs quietly, almost bitterly, and then shakes his head, “There’s probably someone out there who knows me, who likes me, but to get through the people who want money, who want the fame, that’s unbearable… it sounds exhausting…”

“They’re missing out. You’re an amazing guy, you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. And you’re so funny too,” Lucius utters, the words escaping him. It’s a fact that he’s certain of, but he hadn’t intended for those words to come out.

Israel’s cheeks are pink as he looks over, and their eyes meet. Lucius sinks into those brown eyes, warmth flooding his system.

The space between them closes, and it’s unclear who is moving, but as their lips meet, a hand caresses Lucius’ cheek. A soft moan escapes, and Lucius is almost certain that it came from him, but he’s never heard such a noise before.

Only Israel Hands has ever made him feel like this before.

Chapter Text

Lucius can't breathe. There's a hand in his hair, a gentle scratch against his scalp that's driving him crazy. His body moves of its own accord, lying back on the bed. The other man is above him in no time, his delicious weight settled on Lucius' thighs as his hands wander to Lucius' shoulders, and their tongues meet.

Something akin to disappointment fills him when they part their embrace. The thoughts that were quieted by the other man come back louder, retaliation in the noise.

"You're gorgeous..." Izzy utters, "God, I want you so bad..."

Lucius feels as though he's forgotten every single word he's ever learned. Looking up at the man kneeling above him, he can only blink, mouth parted with shaky breaths.

From this angle, Israel Hands looks even more attractive, something Lucius didn't know possible. He's on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, his chest is heaving with ragged breaths, and his eyes are focused on Lucius.

"I..." Lucius' voice is wrecked, but somehow he finds the wherewithal to utter, "please..."

That's all it takes.

Izzy lifts his tee off in one swift movement, throwing it to the floor without hesitation. Their lips have met before the fabric has landed, another soul-stealing kiss that feels like the man is trying to inhale Lucius from the inside out.

Searing hands are moving to more risqué areas, to his waist, over his stomach, his thighs, and further.

It's the best thing Lucius has ever felt. He's surely dreaming; this cannot be his reality. He's dreamed of this for so long, it's surely not a reality.

Sharp nips along his neck are a harsh wake-up call, a reminder that this is real, and self-doubt washes over him at once. This is Israel Hands; he has plenty of people whom he can date. Why does he want you? He doesn't; it's just a quick way to blow off steam. You're nothing special.

The voice is familiar, it's himself. His hesitance is surely obvious. Israel slows his movements and sits back momentarily, his gaze wandering over Lucius' body, concern in those gorgeous brown eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and he sounds nervous.

"Yeah," Lucius nods, far too quickly for either man's comfort. He's not okay; he's trapped between wanting to give in to his desires and the agony of his insecurity. He's dreamed of the other man, childish daydreams of a different life he could have, if his mental health was in a better place. He could be less lonely; friends wouldn't feel so uncomfortable if he went out with them.

But this... this dream wouldn't be so awfully disrupted by the voice in the back of his head.

"I’m not sure I believe that… you’ve gone all quiet on me…" Israel says, "What's going on?"

"I.." Lucius lets the words in his mind rest on his shoulders as he contemplates whether to let them out. He knows that he should, but this could ruin this moment. He's an actor; Israel Hands would surely leave. He would have no issues finding somebody who wasn't so trapped in their head.

"Just..." Lucius hesitates. He's got one opportunity; the truth could make or break it. But he knows Israel Hands is a kind, caring gentleman. It would be entirely out of his nature to torment Lucius over this.

"Just thinking, I'm... I've not done this before, I'm..."

It sounds pathetic...

"Do you want to stop?" Israel asks nervously, "Do you want me to go?"

Lucius slowly shakes his head, but he's not sure what he wants. He wants to be this confident person who wouldn't get attached too quickly, but he isn't. He's the person who gets far too attached too quickly, his emotions build, and he becomes overbearing in the relationships. It's not intentional, it never is.

But he doesn't want to be that person around this man, too.

"I... I just..." Lucius lets his tongue drag over his bottom lip, and he utters, "I'll be okay. I just need to remind myself that I'll probably never see you again... I... I struggle not to get over-attached, but you're different. I mean, you've been so kind and caring in the past, I know I should be better at remembering you’re not in my life..."

The other man is silent, stunned by the words that linger in the air. They're heavy, like rolling storm clouds on a summer's day, and then he frowns.

"I would like to see you again."

Lucius can't believe the words he's hearing. It's a reminder he's repeated countless times this evening, but this cannot be real.

"What?"

Israel chuckles slightly. He's surely teasing you; it's a cruel joke, a prank. He isn't serious.

"When I met you a year ago, I... I don't know, you've been in my head since then. Not in a weird way, but like... I've always hoped I'd meet you again," Israel explains, and Lucius bites his lip, "You've compelled me. There's something about you. A quiet pain in your eyes, a story to be told, a man beneath the shell who is so much more than what is seen."

Lucius nods. It's all he can do. He doesn't know what to say; nothing feels like it's right.

"And it certainly helps that you are gorgeous," Israel adds with a wink.

"I..." Lucius stutters, his cheeks burning and pink. He nods slowly and lets his fingertips graze the hem of his tee, feeling far more confident with the words spoken, though still, he's caught in a moment a few minutes prior.

"You want to know more about me?"

"I do," the other man says it so casually that Lucius is almost emotional. He's always been a shadow, ignored by the people around him, and the person he's admired since his teens reciprocates that admiration. It's overwhelming.

"But you're Israel Hands..." Lucius stutters blindly, feeling incredibly foolish. His brain is long gone.

"Please, call me Iz, Izzy, anything but Israel," the other man smiles, his thumb stroking along Lucius' wrist, "Israel is far too formal... only a few people get to shorten my name..."

Lucius nods, "Okay... Iz..."

The name sounds foreign on his tongue, but he could adjust to it, and as he interlaces their fingers, electricity fills his veins.

"I... I want you, Iz..." Lucius admits, "I have... not just like, an actor and fan thing. Like, you as a person... I want to know you too..."

It feels like he's talking to somebody he's known his whole life, not a person he's met once prior to today. It doesn't feel like he's talking to an actor; he feels like he's talking to a lover. It feels like their bond has more history behind it, like they've known each other for years.

"Me too," Izzy smiles, his fingertips grazing Lucius' cheek, "I... I'd like that..."

Lucius has a painfully wide smile as he reaches up and caresses Izzy's cheek, pulling him down into a chaste, gentle kiss. His other hand traces over Izzy's belt and the bare skin of his torso; it's hot beneath Lucius' fingers. A near-silent moan escapes him, and his legs fall apart, enough that Izzy presses closer to him and asks, "This okay?"

With a nervous breath, Lucius nods. His thumb grazes over Izzy's nipple, unintentionally, and the reaction is immediate. The other man's hips jerk down against his own, and he gasps. The friction leaves Lucius moaning as their lips meet again. At once, Lucius' hands slide into the other man's pockets, pulling him closer. The light movement leaves lust erupting in his system, and the rough friction of their jeans against his hypersensitive cock is almost overwhelming his senses.

"Lube..." Izzy breathes, "I don't have any... not unless I go up to my room..."

Lucius' cheeks are pink, and he nods towards his backpack on the chair, "Think there's some in there..."

At once, Izzy has leapt from the bed and is reaching for the backpack, giving Lucius the chance he needs to sit upright and remove his tee. His gaze lands on the other man's back, and Lucius finds himself tracing the lines of muscle.

It's a sight he's seen on screens previously, but that could never match up to the sight before him now.

There's a littering of dark hair unlike anything he could've pictured in his mind. It's far more arousing upfront than it is through the screen. He'll be able to drag his fingers along those muscles, he'll be able to pull Izzy closer and kiss him, to feel everything.

It's daunting.

A scenario he's dreamed of so many times before, and imagined when his hand wasn't enough, the real experience is so much better than he could've imagined. Strong hands are groping his chest as their lips meet again, a tube of lube at his side, and the weight of the man in his lap.

His hands are wandering, Lucius can't control them as they flitter between Izzy's chest, his hair, his thighs, and his back, searching for something solid to grip.

Soft curses slip between shaky kisses; it's music to Lucius' ears, and far more erotic than he could've imagined. If he could record such a sound, he'd have his personal pornography collection for the rest of his life, something only he could hear, something only he would know.

His memory will be sufficient.

A firm hand cups his crotch, and Lucius stutters over a gasp. Izzy slips his tongue into Lucius' mouth at the opening, their bodies gravitating closer. Lucius aches to rock up against the other man, any friction that could ease the ache in his jeans.

"You’re so fucking sexy," Izzy's voice is raspy as he buries his mouth against Lucius' chest, his tongue circling Lucius' nipple.

"Iz please," Lucius moans, his legs parting further, "touch me..."

Lucius is rolling his hips up against the other man’s thigh, a routine that’s barely easing the overwhelming lust. He can’t breathe, his senses overloaded by the other man in a way that he can’t overcome.

An obnoxious slurp escapes Izzy as he pulls away from Lucius’ nipple. The soft skin is red and splotchy, damp and sensitive from the ministrations of Izzy’s teeth and tongue.

“You are… so… fucking… sexy…” Each word is punctuated with a sharp nip along Lucius’ chest, as the other man’s hands work at the buttons of his jeans, and then he hesitates, before asking, “Is this okay?”

“Please…” Lucius whimpers. He’s not sure he can think of another word; all he knows is the noises that he’s making, and the feeling of the other man’s burning touch.

Izzy smiles and hooks his hands into the belt loops, working the jeans down as far as he can while Lucius is caught up in his lust.

“Lift up,” Izzy hums, mouthing along Lucius’ waist, “Otherwise these jeans are getting torn…”

A moment of imagination and Lucius groans, vividly conjuring a scenario like this but with even a hint of roughness. He’s sure he would’ve come already.

He’s so fucking gorgeous.

In a swift movement, the jeans are tossed aside as soon as Lucius has lifted his hips, his boxers tangled into the denim.

He’s never been nude in front of another; Pete has never seen him this bare. Even boxers are too far when he’s with Pete, but the man by his side is making him feel like he’s a different person.

He’s far more confident than Lucius Spriggs would normally be. And he loves it.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Izzy repeats for the umpteenth time, his teeth grazing along the inside of Lucius’ thighs, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin until there’s a line of purpling bruises.

Shit. Pete will see those; he will surely ask questions.

And who fucking cares?

Lucius lets his hand tease through the mop of grey hair that’s working his thighs, ignoring the overthinking voice in the back of his mind in favour of the lust that’s overwhelming his rationality.

The noise from the cap on the lube is almost distant, muted by his moans, and Lucius whines at the feeling of a slick finger tracing over sensitive skin. He wants to curse, to moan louder, and spread his legs.

Minute movements of the lips against his skin are the only signs that Izzy is muttering sweet nothings, compliments for Lucius alone.

“Please, Iz” Lucius utters, his fingers tightening in the other man’s hair.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Izzy breathes, surging upwards and slamming their mouths together as he grinds his finger against Lucius’ prostate.

Silenced moans are the only sound in the room as Izzy slicks his fingers, pressing against Lucius’ prostate on every stroke. Lucius could come from the touch alone, knowing who it is that’s making him feel like this. He’s rocking his cock against the waistband of Izzy’s jeans.

Rough denim moves over his sensitive cock, he’s certain there’s going to be a stain on those jeans in no time, evidence of their lust that will remain until the man does the next load of laundry.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Izzy hums and drags his mouth to Lucius’ neck, nipping the sensitive skin between his teeth. He lets his mouth drag lower, encircling Lucius’ nipple. One side of his chest is already littered with evidence of lust; the other side is sorely neglected.

It’s a welcome distraction as he stretches Lucius, each new finger leaving louder moans escaping the younger man. Izzy is aching in his jeans; he could come from the sounds alone.

“Iz, I’m… I’m gonna come…” Lucius gasps, arching his back as he hurtles towards orgasm. It’s almost embarrassing to come so soon, but this is the first time he’s done this… and he’s with the man of his dreams.

He’s surprised he’s lasted so long.

“Okay, babe,” Izzy hums, lifting his mouth from the masterpiece he’s created on Lucius’ chest, “okay… do you have a condom?”

“I don’t… it… it’s okay…” Lucius pants, “I’m clean. Never done this before… I’m… fuck…”

At the sight of the other man stripping, Lucius parts his legs as far as he can, aching to see the other man.

Standing from the bed, Izzy slowly nods as he unbuckles his belt and shoves his jeans to the floor.

“I… I’m honored…” Izzy stutters, stumbling as he makes sense of what the other man has said. He’s a virgin… Untouched…

Lucius’ cheeks are pink, he’s panting, and his hips are rocking, his fingertips tracing over his slick rim. Nothing could be more enticing than this sight, and as Izzy crawls onto the bed, he reaches for the lube.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Izzy hums, slicking his cock. Lucius nods and parts his legs, looking up at the other man.

“And you’re sure?” Izzy asks, “I can stop…”

He’s right there; he can feel Lucius’ warmth, but he’ll stop if he needs. He’ll leave now if Lucius so asks, even if he will need to think unsexy thoughts to avoid a scandal in the elevator.

“I’m certain, Iz,” Lucius nods, “I’m so certain. Want you, Iz, I want you…”

Izzy smiles and presses their lips together as he lines up. He’s burning up, the feverish heat of lust overwhelming him as he sinks into Lucius’ tight heat. He can’t breathe, he can’t think. All he knows is Lucius’ warmth; it’s all he wants to know.

If he died now, it would be heavenly.

Their kiss falls apart, and they pant against each other, burning touches that leave them rocking against each other. Lucius’ hands tremble as he reaches up, holding onto Izzy’s shoulders in search of something to ground him. He’s a world away, living his dreams.

“You good?” Izzy sounds breathless as he gropes Lucius’ legs, winding them around his waist. They couldn’t be closer if they tried.

“So good,” Lucius nods, panting as his hand lifts from Izzy’s shoulders to the back of his head, “Real good, Iz…”

Their lips meet as Izzy lightly rolls his hips, small movements that leave Lucius crying out into the kiss. Sharp fingertips nip his chest, his nipples pinched and rolled as Izzy sets his energy in hearing the other man crying out.

He’s hitting Lucius’ prostate on every stroke, their tongues dancing as he teases Lucius’ chest, a combination of stimulants that leave Lucius crying out, his hips rolling up to meet each thrust.

Their kiss falls apart as they pant against each other, and Izzy adjusts his rhythm, hitting Lucius’ prostate in a merciless rhythm that tips Lucius over the edge, leaving him crying out as he spills over their stomachs.

“Fucking hell, Iz,” Lucius pants, his head falling back against the pillow as he slumps onto the bed, “Holy fucking shitballs…”

Izzy chuckles and presses his mouth to Lucius’ chest, his teeth grazing over Lucius’ skin as he comes, a near-silent groan escaping him as his hips still, his grip bruising Lucius’ thighs.

Lying side by side in their afterglow, Lucius can’t control his breathing. His pulse is racing; he’s panting, and electric shoots through his veins every time their fingertips brush together. It’s only a split second, but the touch is more than he ever could have imagined.

“Wow…” he breathes, staring up at the ceiling. It’s dark in the room, he has little idea of the time, and he’s almost certain that the movie they were watching has finished, but he’s not too upset.

That experience was far better than any horror movie.

“Yeah…” Izzy breathes, glancing over at Lucius, “You, um… I guess you enjoyed it then?”

“That was amazing,” Lucius confirms and looks over at Izzy, “I mean… Iz, that was… I think you’ve ruined me for everyone else…”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Izzy chuckles, leaning over to press their lips together again, “You’ve driven me crazy all day…”

Lucius’ cheeks burn as they share chaste kisses.

“Every time I saw you, I just wanted to talk to you…” Izzy continues, and he appears nervous now, “Wanted to say hi to the super sexy guy who came to see me a year ago…”

Lucius nods, trying to parse through the noise in his mind to make sense of the spoken words.

“And then you were downstairs, looked all… I don’t know, lost? In your own head, maybe…” Izzy continues, his thumb stroking over Lucius’ palm, “Figured it was the safest time, it wasn’t like anybody else was around, or anybody who knows us anyway, you know? Best thing I did…”

“Iz…” Lucius hums, “I thought… I thought you weren’t looking for anything more…”

Izzy chuckles, his thumb stroking along Lucius’ cheek, “You’re different. I mean, I don’t even know you’re name and you’re all that I could think about, all day. Every time I looked up, I was looking for you… and you know what, I don’t regret it for a single second…”

“My name’s Lucius.” It feels strange to have the introduction so late into their bond, but as Lucius looks over at the other man, his heart skips a beat, “Lucius Spriggs.”

“Well, Lucius…” Izzy says the name as though he’s testing it in his mouth, “You are amazing. You’re so kind, caring, funny, and you’re gorgeous…”

“That sounds a lot like what I said to you earlier…” Lucius chuckles, a futile attempt to divert the attention back to the other man.

Izzy rolls his eyes and shifts onto his side, “I’m talking about you, Mr Spriggs, I’m talking about how amazingly perfect you are, how super sexy you are, and how you’re nothing like the other people who have tried to get involved in my life. I want you in my life. You’ve shown me you’re different; you are different. You’ve enticed me since that day a year and however long ago… I wanted to chase after you, to spend the time with you, but I couldn’t… I knew how it would look to everyone. And that’s never stopped, either…”

Lucius lets the words linger in his memory as he shuffles closer to the other man.

“I thought about using social media, like putting out a message like, does anyone know this guy I met?” Gentle hands stroke along Lucius’ arms, “but then I’d just have people pretending to be you… and that would bee worse…”

Lucius nods, speechless. He doesn’t know what to say; nothing is sufficient for the words Izzy is saying so freely.

“I-I… I’d like…” Lucius stutters, “If you wanted to… maybe get to know each other more…”

It’s cheesy, and it feels like he’s never spoken in his life, but the words linger in the space between them, hovering like a taunting reminder.

“I’d like that,” Izzy breathes, pressing their lips together, “I’d really like that…”

Lucius moans into the kiss, his arms winding around Izzy as they fall against each other, overwhelmed by their adoration.

He’s spent, but the thought of more times like this leaves Lucius’ cock twitching limply, and a gentle moan reverberates through the other man.

“God… Luce…” Izzy pants between more chaste kisses. It’s too much and not enough at once.

Lucius could cry from the emotions overwhelming him, but he wants to scream and shout, too. He’s the happiest he’s ever been, surrounded by warmth and love from the other man. But he’s nervous, he’s terrified. He’s bare, vulnerable to a man he hardly knows. He’s never done this with a person he does know; to do it with somebody who is essentially a stranger, it’s daunting.

“Tell me about you, Lu,” Izzy whispers, his fingertips grazing over Lucius’ cheek, “You can find out most things about me with Google, but I want to know you…”

Lucius nods, his mind flickering through every memory of his life, trying to find something to make himself appear even the slightest bit more interesting.

“I’m boring,” he confesses, “I left home a few years back, had real shit times, go to college. Got a part-time job, just about survive.”

“Boring isn’t a bad thing,” Izzy hums.

Lucius shrugs, adjusting the duvet that’s askew beneath their bodies, “not when my every night is spent lying in bed, with nobody to talk to, nothing to do, nowhere to go…”

“I’d give my soul for that,” Izzy confesses, “I love a quiet night in. Stick on a good movie, get some shitty takeout, what more do you want for a good night? Other than a wank maybe…”

Heat floods Lucius’ cheeks as he imagines the other man in such a scenario.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” Izzy says and sits upright, “We can carry on when there’s not come everywhere…”

Lucius nods, watching as Izzy clambers from the bed. It’s hard not to stare at the other man, his firm muscles rippling as he moves around the room so freely. There’s a quiet confidence in Izzy’s nudity; Lucius admires the man a little more. He knows he looks good, and he flaunts it.

“Your life isn’t all boring,” Izzy comments, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you come to these conventions. That can’t be boring. If I wasn’t an actor, I’d come to one, meet people, spend money on shit I don’t need…”

Lucius chuckles, reaching up to stroke his hand over Izzy’s chest, “hook up with those same actors?”

Izzy winks and meets Lucius’ eyes, a smirk covering his face as he says, “Depends if you’re the actor…”

Lucius can only gawp as Izzy begins to clean away the fluids covering their bodies. What can he say to that?

Chapter Text

Lucius glances around the hall one last time, adjusting his rucksack on his shoulder. His train is in just over thirty minutes; that’s plenty of time to get some lunch and get to the platform, but it still feels insufficient.

Regardless, he finds himself scanning the hall again. If anybody asked, he would lie and say that he’s not looking for anyone in particular.

The reality is that there is one man he is searching for, seeking those familiar brown eyes one last time before he goes back home and becomes a distant memory to the man who took his virginity. To say goodbye would be nice, but Lucius is bitterly reminded that last night will only be a vague reminiscence to the other man.

It was the best night of Lucius’ life, but to Israel Hands, it was surely just another hook-up, a quick fling to sate an urge, regardless of the kind words he spoke.

With a quiet sigh, he gives one final glance into the crowded hall and begins to turn on his heel. He hasn’t long left before his train; he’s delaying it for a few more minutes of delusion.

A voice calls his name.

At first, he believes it to be a hallucination. Nobody here knows his name, and he’s not even sure that Israel Hands remembers his name, despite their fling. He shakes away the thoughts and pats his pockets in search of his phone, a nervous habit as he delays his departure.

It’s inexcusable, but he would love to stay longer. To have more of his free time tied up in fond recollections is something he would love, but his memories are all caught in anguish, something he intends to change when he finally gets into work and has a full income.

Until then, he’ll make do with the little time he can.

“God, are you deaf?” The words leave him flinching, but when he turns to face the other man, he’s met with a teasing smile.

“Iz,” he breathes, a smile covering his face as the other man stops in front of him. Their eyes meet, and Lucius can’t look away, despite the people around them.

Thousands of strangers bear witness to this moment of sweetness and affection. A hand interlaces with his own, and Lucius finds himself looking down at the other man. It feels like they’re so much more than they are, their bond something more inherent than whatever it currently is.

"You're not going without saying goodbye, are you?" Izzy asks, his voice teasing as he squeezes Lucius' hand.

Was he? Was Lucius going to sneak away without saying goodbye, after everything they talked about overnight? After the confessions that were uttered in the dark of night, how could he bear to leave this convention without at least saying goodbye?

Their bond has irrevocably transformed, even if Lucius doubts the authenticity of those softly spoken words at the height of his orgasm. They even had breakfast together, a hookup doesn’t stay for breakfast – do they?

"I was looking for you," Lucius confesses. He's going to be late for his train, but this addiction has taken him to new highs, and he'll starve if it means a few more minutes with Israel Hands. The cost of a new train is worth it for this coveted time together.

"You found me," Izzy smiles, ignoring the handler who’s jogging towards them and trying to make sense of what the actor is doing, "What time's your train?"

Lucius plucks his phone from his back pocket and confirms the time, "Twenty-five minutes."

Before he can return the device to its location, it's stolen from his hands, and the other man has a cheeky grin.

"Iz?"

"One minute," Izzy utters, navigating the phone as though it's his own. And Lucius is surprisingly content for him to do so.

In any other circumstances, he would be upset if someone was on his phone, but this is Israel Hands; he's seen the parts of Lucius that nobody else has. And he stayed.

And, Lucius’ brain adds, he probably thinks you took photos of him sleeping and wants to delete them all.

It’s crushing to consider, but Lucius knows how it could destroy the man’s career if their affair became common knowledge. Someone would find a way to twist the narrative, to make Lucius seem like a crazy fan, or to make it appear that the actor has abused a position of power.

Lucius couldn’t consent more if he begged.

Several moments later, Lucius is handed his phone back, and he cannot immediately see anything wrong, though he's certain that he'll be scrubbing the device later, scouring in search of something that's changed.

"Now, you'd better go and catch your train," Izzy hums, his thumb lightly caressing Lucius' cheek, "No matter how much I'd prefer you here..."

Lucius nods, his eyes closing as he melts into the man's warmth. In a moment of weakness, he leans down and presses their lips together again. It's a risky move to do so, in public no less, but he can't control himself around this man. He's letting go of all the restraints by which he has lived his life.

And he loves it.

Their lips move together, and as they move closer, the kiss feels like something out of a movie, and it leaves something stirring in the pit of his stomach. He’s reluctant to part, but the buzzing in his pocket of his phone’s alarm tells him he’s got twenty minutes to catch his train, and it’s a ten minute walk - or it took him ten minutes on the way here, it may take less on the way back since he has a better idea of the directions, or something like that.

“I need to go, Iz...” he mumbles, his lips moving against the other man’s mouth. It still feels insufficient for the affection he desires; he aches to have the man by his side again. It’s something inexplicable, unfathomable. He’s never felt like this for another, and he knows the man has countless other people he could want. But this delusion is something he’s going to play into for as long as he can.

“I know,” Izzy responds, and reluctantly, he separates a little. It’s only a few inches, but the effect is immediate, and a chill surrounds Lucius. He can’t shake it as he untwines their hands.

“I...” I can’t say, see you next time. That sounds weird, doesn’t it?

Lucius has never felt so clueless for words.

“Go on,” Izzy nods towards the exit, “I’m sure we’ll meet again...”

Lucius isn’t quite certain that their paths will cross, and it twists his heart to imagine never seeing the man again, but he nods regardless. If they did reunite, last night would be nothing more than a distant memory, if the other man could even recall it.

No matter how he tries, Lucius is near-certain that this memory will be a core part of his future. Whether he remains alone, gets married, or another outcome he can’t consider, it’ll be something he looks back on with fondness, and perhaps even a little anguish that it didn’t become something more than the bond between a fan and an actor.

What would that bond even be?

“Go on, sexy, you’re going to miss your train...”

Lucius slowly nods again.

He doesn’t want to leave, but as he begins to turn on his heel, he’s pulled into another tight embrace.

“I mean it, Lu, we’ll meet again,” Izzy mumbles, and then just as quickly as he had hugged Lucius, he’s letting go.

Lucius is stunned as he continues moving, unable to do anything else. He’s drifting through his surroundings to the train station, his mind a world away at the convention, only a short distance from where he is.

With minutes to spare, he hops onto the train. Settling into his seat, Lucius glances around the cabin. First Class is one of the few luxuries he grants himself in life, somewhere quiet, safe, and comfortable while he’s travelling. Standard class has always felt too crowded; it was stifling, and he would often find himself standing, or if he's lucky enough to have a seat, he's next to somebody drooling on his shoulder.

But as he settles with his laptop, stretching his legs in front of him, he finds comfort in the quiet. His phone buzzes on the table, and the sound is almost too loud. A habit of heart, he flicks it to silent. Few people contact him anyway; it’ll only be a text from Pete about the laundry, or the leftovers in the fridge.

Anticipating the response, he unlocks his phone, though he’s taken aback when the notification isn’t from Pete. It is a message, but it’s from a number he doesn’t recognise.

That’s not uncommon.

He regularly has spammers messaging with a request for him to subscribe to their virus-infested porn, an unregulated gambling site, or their legitimate remote career that can earn him millions in minutes. But this isn’t a situation like that, either.

Looking down at the message, he subconsciously pinches his thigh again as he tries to make sense of the words he’s reading. He hasn’t got the number saved, but he doesn’t need that; he already knows who sent the message. It can only be from the man he spent the night with

Missing you already, sexy.

Chapter Text

It far exceeds any of Lucius' dreams when his phone buzzes with a new message from his boyfriend.

Beloved actor Israel Hands is a dream for many. He was once nothing more than a staple of Lucius' entertainment.

They talk every day now.

Long-distance relationships rarely work, but Lucius has managed to find a stronger relationship with a man who frequently travels.

It's alluring and astounding in the same breath; he adores everything they have become in their short time together.

Communication is frequent, daily calls and regular texts, regardless of their differing time zones and schedules, the affection in the texts he receives is far stronger than anything he could’ve imagined.

He had assumed, wrongly, that the distance would limit their affection, which would only complicate matters. But their frequent communication is more than sufficient for their time apart, knowing that when they do see each other again, the sex is as astounding as the gentle warmth.

Frequent conventions give way to more time together - they meet at Izzy's hotel room, and even if Lucius doesn't visit the convention, a few days away in another city is an enjoyable escape from the monotony of his life.

The unread message notification has caught his attention; it's captured him and pulls him closer.

But there's something else on the screen that is intriguing him.

A post by the local news, about his city's small Comic-Con. They rarely have anybody that Lucius has an interest in, a number of unknown D-list celebrities, and a handful of traders with things that rarely catch his interest.

But the photo in the article...

It's his boyfriend.

No celebrity so big has ever come to this small town. His boyfriend surely doesn't know, either.

Lucius has never told Izzy where he lives; they've never stayed at Lucius' house, always meeting somewhere neutral, somewhere publicly private, away from prying eyes and in full view.

This is surely a joke...

His mind flits between anxiety and rationality - swinging like a pendulum between the certainty that it's an awful prank, and the logic that it would be something incredibly elaborate, and affect so many people, which would be a foolish joke.

The comments on the post reassure him that it's real, that his boyfriend will be in town for a few days, and, for once, it's an opportunity for Lucius to see him without there being too much of a cost.

It would be almost no hit to his finances, only the cost to enter and get a photo.

Cogs turn in his brain as he conjures a plan, his own trickery to surprise his boyfriend. It wouldn't require any additional time from work, he wouldn't need to shell out on trains and hotels, only the entry tickets, which are cheap enough.

He's long come to terms with the fact that he can't travel to every single convention, no matter how much he aches to see his boyfriend.

But this is so close, and his boyfriend is the main guest, it would be foolish not to go.

It goes against his nature, but he ignores his boyfriend's text for several minutes in favour of booking the necessary tickets.

In most circumstances, a photograph with his boyfriend wouldn't cost him a penny. But the plan he's forming is a surprise, and to surprise him as he desires requires a ticket for a photograph opportunity.

Compared to the usual expense of train tickets, it's far cheaper and just as worth it.

It’s not his boyfriend who requested the privacy of their relationship – Izzy has wanted to be open about their bond from the day they became official, sharing affection openly in front of thousands of people at a convention.

Excuses were made at the time, but Lucius knows that there have been rumours in their time together. Classmates have sent him articles plastered with his face; he’s ignored every single one.

His anxiety is the reason they’ve not taken it public.

People judge; ruthless comments made on social media by strangers. The voice in his head is loud enough; he doesn’t need other people to highlight his flaws.

With the confirmation on his screen, his bank account is a little emptier, but for that, he has a plan. And it gives him the opportunity to bring his attention to the unread message he’s unintentionally ignored for several long minutes.

Iz: I’ll be on the move soon. Not sure if anywhere close to u, but I can buy ur train if u want? Want to see u again

At once, Lucius’ heart stutters. Only his boyfriend could fill him with this warmth; it’s only Izzy who makes him feel this way. The gentle affection in the short text, the offer that he so frequently makes, is one that Lucius often rejects.

He can’t be seen to be taking from Izzy; he knows how that would appear to people. In their several months together, Izzy has offered the money frequently, and Lucius has only accepted it once.

And for that, he carried the guilt for weeks afterwards. It was unshakeable, following his every waking moment.

Lu: I’ll have to see, it’s Christmas soon. Expensive month. I’ll figure something out, promise – want to see u too. Missing u

His gaze casts across to his rucksack, normally packed for travelling to conventions a long distance away, he’ll need no such thing this time. He won’t need to pack any clothing; he’ll need no extra phone charger or medication.

He’ll need nothing but himself.

Chapter Text

Having spent most of his life in this city, Lucius should have been to this venue far more than he has. He's never been here before, though; he much prefers to travel for events and take a short break.

If there's a chance that he could see his boyfriend again, he'll travel for miles to meet him, no limits to his movement for the chance of a few hours together.

But as he looks around the venue, surrounded by a crowd of other convention-goers, his heart races. It's far busier than he ever expected to see the venue, but he knows why.

His boyfriend.

Tickets stored on his phone, he has little with him - his phone, his wallet, and his keys. It's a short bus journey home; he doesn't need to carry any essentials, nor does he need to carry a backpack for anything he plans to buy.

He doesn't want to buy anything - he can't afford to. He only has one intention while he's here, one thing he's going to do.

It's a little over an hour until his scheduled photo slot, an hour to hide away and linger in the crowds away from his boyfriend.

Already, he's beginning to sweat, surrounded by crowds in a building with little airflow. The wristband on his wrist is itchy, paper scratching over scars he no longer hides.

The far wall is lined with tables, photos of the celebrities people are visiting. There is only one man he plans to visit.

Following the crowds, he lingers by the line of trader-tables, authors all pitching their novels. There's a mountain of books he needs to read, a pile that grows after every convention, and he's surely going to add to it today

Beyond that, he has nothing planned.

He could go home after seeing his boyfriend; there are countless other things he needs to do - chores and jobs that require his attention. He's long neglected most of them in favour of daydreaming about his boyfriend.

Rapid cleaning filled last night, changing his bedding in the hopes of spending the night with his boyfriend.

His small home is nothing compared to the hotels they frequently share, but it's Lucius', and it's home.

Taking Izzy home has never been a plan, but with him being in town, what else could he do but show Izzy where they have spent so many nights on calls together?

There's more than adequate space, but there's a little self-doubt that creeps when Lucius compares his abode to some of the places that they have spent nights together.

His home is safe, though it’s safe and familiar.

Shaking his thoughts away, he approaches the first of the tables, perusing the selection of books begging to take his little disposable income.

Winding queues leave Lucius with an ache in his legs. He’s middle of the queue, exactly where he wanted to be.

Just another fan.

He’s wringing his hands together, listening to the eager conversations around him to ease his nerves. It’s not enough distraction, but too much simultaneously.

He has no plan for the photo itself. Extensive as they may be, his plans only covered to the moment he entered the convention with a photo booked.

The last hour has been wasted with books he didn’t need to buy and will remain on his reading list for far too long.

With each person entering the booth, he shuffles forward a little, staring absently at the far wall. His mind is cycling through different scenarios of how his boyfriend may react – positively, negatively, neutrally.

Every different daydream has a different outcome, and he’s not sure which he would prefer – if it’s positive, they’re going to face the world as a couple, and that’s a dream, but he’ll be vulnerable to their judgment.

If it’s negative, he’ll be humiliated and judged.

So lost in his thoughts, Lucius doesn’t realise how the queue has moved until he’s at the front.

His hands are clammy, sweaty even when dried on his jeans.

“Alright, you’re up,” the woman directing the queue says.

With a gulp and a shaky nod, Lucius steps through the curtain, not glancing towards his boyfriend as he places his items on the small table, out of the way. A couple more people follow in, standing behind him in the queue.

An internal pep-talk does nothing to reassure Lucius; he can distantly hear his boyfriend talking to the photographer, but what he’s saying, Lucius can’t make sense of. The blood rushing to his ears is too loud to hear anything clearly.

Closing his eyes, he lets out a silent prayer and then turns on his heels, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes across the room.

“Luce…”

The world freezes as they lock eyes, separated by metres that feel like miles.

“Hey Iz,” Lucius stutters, his voice unfamiliar and distant.

On unsteady legs, he stumbles forward until they’re inches apart, he’s looking down into his boyfriend’s familiar brown eyes, comforting and reassuring.

“What are you, what are, what’s,” Izzy’s stuttering is almost comical, their hands gently entwine without either man glancing down.

“I um,” Lucius drags his tongue over his lower lip, “I live here. Well, not here, but this city, I, my house is here.”

He’s uncomfortably nervous – it’s not like they’re strangers.

They’re boyfriends.

It’s every day that they’re talking – phone calls, texts, video chats.

They’re not strangers.

Disbelief flickers through Izzy’s eyes as they gravitate together, the distance that separates them closing until their lips meet, and Izzy’s arms lift to rest over Lucius’ shoulders.

Hushed murmurings from the first witnesses to their relationship disrupt Lucius’ thought-train, a jolting reminder of where they are.

It’s public.

It’s real.

And he loves it.

“I don’t believe it,” Izzy breathes, their foreheads resting together and eyes closed, “am I dreaming?”

Lucius presses a chaste kiss to Izzy’s cheek, “I can’t pinch you; I think security might kick me out… but I might be able to get away with slapping your arse…”

Izzy laughs quietly and presses their lips together again, “Later…”

Lucius’ cheeks ache from the intensity of his smile, and he combs through Izzy’s hair, straightening the strands he’s inadvertently disturbed amidst their embrace.

“So, I have to ask,” Izzy asks, as he backs towards the tape markers on the floor, “Why did you pay for a photo, knowing you could have as many as you want when we’re alone?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you,” Lucius shrugs, “You do so much for me, I want to do more for you…”

Izzy frowns slightly.

Lucius can see the question lingering in his boyfriend’s throat.

“Later,” Izzy says quietly, and continues, “Are you here all day?”

Lucius’ heart sinks a little, but he shrugs in response to his boyfriend’s question, “I have no real plan. I wasn’t planning to, but if I go home, I’ll only be lying on the floor.”

“Stay with me, then,” Izzy smiles, his offer filled with warmth and kindness, “Stay with me all day, I’ll treat you to dinner later, and we’ll talk about that later… I think the staff might kick off in a minute.”

Lucius nods, an unfortunate truth of their circumstances, but one he knew to expect.

He squeezes Izzy’s hand again, pulling him into a gentle embrace as he tries not to overthink their conversation.

Chapter Text

As Lucius glances up at his home, he can't shake the uncertainty from the pit of his stomach.  

He knows Izzy, they've been together for months.  

But this is different.  

Every interaction has been away from their homes, somewhere they can be unknown and unfamiliar.  

Never intentionally planned that way, it was easier to be together somewhere neutral than to go to their homes together, to bring their bond somewhere personal. 

"It's um, it's nothing special," he admits nervously, pulling his keys from his pocket as he glances towards his boyfriend, "But it's home." 

"It's nice," Izzy smiles, inexplicably nervous.  

Squeezing Lucius' hand does little to comfort him, but he can use the affection to comfort Lucius, too. 

"More than I thought I'd ever have," Lucius admits, sliding the key into the lock on the first try. It's smoother than he had imagined it could be, and as he turns the key, he feels Izzy press close to his back, "It’s enough space for me, it's all I need..."  

"As long as there's somewhere for me to make you feel amazing, we could be anywhere in the world together, and it would be home," Izzy murmurs, his voice low as his palms caress Lucius' waist, "Even in the middle of nowhere..."  

A low moan escapes Lucius as he fumbles the door open, unwilling to part from his boyfriend for even a second to step inside. 

Izzy lets out a low chuckle and guides Lucius inside, closing the door behind them. His hand lingers on Lucius' waist as their eyes meet.  

Not for the first time today, Lucius aches to hold his boyfriend close. Earlier in the day, there were more things that he wanted to do – things that they could never do in a public environment.  

But they have a weekend together, two nights in his home, in his bedroom. 

He'll have his chance to see his boyfriend with his head thrown back and moans that can be heard throughout their home.  

Beyond all of that, it’s been too long since they had a time to be alone together. Weeks, months maybe, since they had a chance to spend a night in each other’s arms, without the distraction of other people.  

Hotel rooms give little privacy, but it was always better than the alternative, of having no intimacy.  

Lucius aches to be dominated by the other man, to be overwhelmed by his boyfriend’s adoration, love, and his gentle touch.  

And this is his chance... 

He stumbles backwards, arms lifting over Izzy's shoulders and tangling through his boyfriend's hair. It doesn't take a lot for Izzy to catch onto Lucius’ unsubtle hint, and his hands drop to Lucius’ waist, using the leverage to push him back against the barely closed door.  

Hands wander as Lucius combs through Izzy’s hair, and his moans are swallowed in their embrace until the need to breathe forces them apart.  

“Fuck” Izzy’s his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of Lucius’ throat as they pant against each other, surrounded by the silence of an otherwise empty home. 

“Later,” Lucius breathes, legs trembling beneath him. He tangles his fingers through Izzy’s hair and pulls him closer, “I want to lay with you, just for a little while, and...” 

He lets his voice dip a little lower, “I really want to kiss you again...”   

Izzy laughs quietly and lightly massages Lucius’ waist, “I’m sure we can... facilitate that...”  

His words trail off as his lips move along Lucius’ neck again, hesitating along the hollow of his throat, “Perhaps on a sofa...”  

Lucius laughs quietly, standing upright. His legs tremble, amplified by the ache between his legs as he moves, guiding his boyfriend towards the sofa.  

“Do you fancy takeout?” Izzy suggests, collapsing onto the sofa by Lucius’ side, “I’ll buy.”  

With a hum, Lucius curls closer to his boyfriend, “Surprise me...”  

He lets his eyes close, resting his head on Izzy’s bicep, “I just want to stay with you for a bit...”  

Izzy smiles fondly, slowly adjusting his position until he can pull Lucius into his arms, lying on his back with his head resting on the arm of the sofa, “How’s that?” 

“Better,” Lucius answers, eyes closed, “It’s been too long.”  

“It has,” Izzy agrees and strokes his fingers through Lucius’ hair, “Far too long... but it won’t go that long again, I promise.”  

Lucius lifts his head slightly, slowly meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. In a moment of weakness, he leans down and presses their lips together again, burying himself in the other man’s warmth. 

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses. 

“I know, darlin’,” Izzy hums and strokes his hand along Lucius’ spine, “I, um, I really enjoyed your little surprise earlier...” 

Lucius nods and curls closer, “I love you...”  

Izzy smiles fondly and presses a chaste kiss to Lucius’ forehead, uttering, “I love you, too.”  

Wrapped in each other’s embrace, it’s more than they ever thought possible, and neither man wants to lose this love.  

Reaching for a blanket that rests over the back of the sofa, Izzy covers Lucius and curls closer, “Food can wait a few more minutes...”  

Lucius nods, burrowing closer into the warmth that surrounds him.