thegentlemanthug | RS/These streets are in your marrow

Current Mood: stressed

Entry tags:

verse: safe hands

RS/These streets are in your marrow

After he pulls the man from the river, Ben feels uneasy in his mind, moreso than when he was first lucid after his beating. He had the opportunity to know his past, and he walked away. He is a coward as well as a friend to wretches.

He is returning from an errand in town for the dockmaster, his face apparently trustworthy despite his lack of memory, when he realises he has gone too far on the underground railway. He gets off at the wrong stop and means to return immediately to the right one, except that he knows this place. He knows it deeply and strongly, calling to him with a strong sense of who he is.

Either he can ignore it once more or he can follow it, step out from under this cowardice and learn something of who he is. And maybe he can find out the fate of that drowned man, learn something of him, know his pain and soothe it.

He lets his feet take him where they will, trying to follow his gut and not his better sense. He feels the familiarity in the streets, recognising a street sign there, a flower seller there, and his pace quickens as he draws towards somewhere he knows must be home.

The door calls to him and he runs to it, knocking hard on the wood before he can stop himself.

It opens on an older lady in an apron and, before she can speak, he tears his hat from his head and starts trying to explain himself.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, madam, but I had the strangest feeling I ought to come here today."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Matthew almost carries on and speaks out loud about Bennet's lack of memory, but he catches himself and holds his tongue. His lover cannot help his memory loss, and he's sure he will only make him feel more pressure to remember if he tells him he hopes they come back soon. He has Bennet, who is happy to hold him, and that is already a million times better than anything he thought could be possible.

"I love you," he says instead, simple and to the point.

Bennet's words catch in his throat. He is unable to say exactly what he feels, except that it is strong and all-consuming.

"I feel...I feel like I've come home," he says, finally.

"You are home," Matthew promises, closing his eyes and breathing in deep. This man may not be all Bennet, but he sure smells like him, feels like him as they rest together. He has to hope that the rest will come back, and miracles have already happened, so why not?

"The bath is in the kitchen," Mrs Ramsay pokes her head through the door to announce, glad to see her boys cuddled up together. "I will be going to bed, then, unless you need anything further tonight?"

"No, thank you, Mrs Ramsay," Matthew answers, and for a moment it's as if the last few months never existed. This is any other night, saying goodnight to their housekeeper.

Bennet watches her go, feeling the familiar weight of a hundred nights or more spent like this.

"Let me help you," he says, reaching tentatively for Matthew's first shirt button.

The white shirt and pants, the stock uniform of the asylum's mad, are ill-fitting on Matthew's skinny frame. He would like rid of them as quickly as possible, and if Bennet's enough of himself to be offering to help undress him... well, he's not going to complain about that.

He nods, letting Bennet take control, sitting up straight to make the job easier.

Bennet strips Matthew of his clothes with tender care, but he averts his eyes from the man's bare skin. He is shy of what he might see, what he might feel in turn.

"Look at me..." Matthew reaches for Bennet's face, trying to tilt his chin back towards him. He may be sick, and he may not have done anything close to work for many months, but he is still a doctor. And he knows Bennet will never remember their love if he doesn't embrace what they once had.

"There's nothing here you've not seen and touched a thousand times before."

Bennet feels his cheeks heating, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck in its intensity.

"I feel like a shy maid," he confesses.

"Will you let me undress you?" Matthew offers a compromise.

Now they have come to it, Bennet is shy even of this. But he holds his nerve, eyes on Matthew's questing fingers.

"Yes," he breathes. "Please."

The task isn't easy, with Matthew unable to stand unaided, but he is nothing if not adept at getting people naked. He unwraps Bennet from his clothing like the most precious of gifts, fingers reacquainting themselves with bare skin, the feel reassuring him that this is all real. This is his Bennet come home to him.

The touch is familiar, a ritual dance, and Bennet breathes easier as he loses more and more of his clothing.

"You've done this before," he says, half-teasing.

"A thousand times," Matthew agrees, not stopping until his lover is as naked as he is.

"Now, will you look at me?"

Bennet finally looks up and into Matthew's eyes.

"I see you," he says, and kisses him.

Matthew is so stunned he freezes. He was not sure whether he'd ever get another kiss from this man, had been debating whether or not it was something he should initiate or not. And then, as ever, his Benny went and solved all his worrying for him.

He kisses back before Ben has a chance to stop, hands finding his lover's sides and gripping desperately.

His mind may be lagging, but his body knows Matthew completely. Bennet brings him closer, devouring his mouth, filled to the brim with lust.

Though he wishes for the kiss never to end, Matthew is nevertheless the one to pull back, gasping for breath. He is acutely aware that his system is full of sedative drugs, dulling everything, and as such his body will not respond to Bennet in the way his mind wants. He breaks away to save himself the embarrassment, should Bennet try and take things further.

"The bath will not stay warm forever," he points out.

Bennet pulled back, regarding his lover uneasily.

"I do something wrong?"

"No," Matthew shakes his head. "No, nothing at all." He kisses Bennet again to prove his point.

"I'm just aware I've not seen a proper bath for months, 'nd even though you call me unwashed on the best of days, I'm aware that I really am that right now."

"You're in need of rest," Bennet says, sure that no matter the cause of his lover's reticence, he should take the hint and let him be.

"Let's get you to the bath."

"'d normally be all over you by now," Matthew agrees, ashamed by his sickness. "Guess neither of us are quite ourselves right now."

He doesn't resist the help through to the kitchen and the waiting bathtub.

Bennet carefully assists Matthew into the bathtub, making sure he's sat comfortably before contemplating the small space.

"You sure I'll fit?"

"Unless you've grown since last you were here," Matthew laughs and scoots himself forward, giving Bennet as much space as possible.

"We've done this a thousand times, darlin', trust me."

Bennet does as he's instructed and, while it's close quarters, he fits comfortably against his Matthew.

On instinct, he cups some water in his hand and reaches up to pour it gently over his lover's hair.

"Every time..." Matthew half groans, half laughs, rubbing the water from his eyes and leaning back against Bennet's chest.

"You do that every single time."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject