Lingering Kisses

[bunny]

SLEEP HAD BEEN A STRUGGLE.  Lucy found him sometime after Benedict had left to confront him on the shouting and discovered a broken man on the chaise lounge, drunk out of his wits.  The hangover continues to affect him even now.  He takes a wet rag from a footman, pressing it to his temple.  He should be more dressed up for Benedict, but he figures the younger will understand -- all things considered.  Lucy has gone out to leave him alone time with Bridgerton.  ( He rolled his eyes at the way she'd said it, but the headache made that hurt even more.) 

"Benedict Bridgerton, Sir Granville,"  Dennis announces -- and the footman gives him a pointed look before leaving he and Benedict alone. 

Henry shifts to stand at the table in greeting.  "Ah, Bridgerton,"  he greets, and he offers a hand to the chair at the other side of the table.  They are not in the dining room;  there is no need, and it is still a mess from the party the night before.  He really needs to pay his staff more.  At least he keeps the nicer apartments clean, so that they have a place to rest in between cleaning up all of his parties.  "I almost did not expect your arrival.  I am chuffed that you took my invitation to heart."  

He forces a smile.  It is hard to smile.  The headache pounds, and he is grateful for the spread that his cook provides for them.  It should help.  He can still remember the anger in Alfred's eyes, and he can remember the surprise in Bridgerton's upon Henry's weakness. . .  Ah, he will have to address that, wouldn't he?  He admitted that it hadn't been a regret, but he . . . wonders what Benedict might now think of him, having the time to process what occurred the night before. 

"Do sit down.  As you can see, I am. . ."  And he holds up his hands as if the gesture look at me.  He is only in his shirt and suspenders -- waistcoat and coat be damned.  He almost considers drinking some ale as they eat.  Or perhaps brandy. . .  His heart's all torn apart, and it's clear that he's simultaneously more put together and more wild than the night before.  He sits unceremoniously and moves to take a plate of meats and cheeses, filling his empty before him.  "You must forgive me for the state of the place, but you attended the party last night, so you understand. Don't you?" 

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton
Sequel thread to: The Colors Disappear

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

To say that Benedict had not thought about last night would be quite the lie. He had thought about it, and thought about it . . . and thought about it some more. The kiss had ignited something in Benedict. Something he had not realized and yet, something that felt wonderful at the same time. All those gazes upon Henry, confusing his own mind and heart for it surely had not been desire or deeper, more intimate affections towards him. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He had not understood himself . . . until they had kissed. But damned the timing of it all and it left Benedict with the understanding, the acceptance that he was forced to embrace that it was not him that Henry wanted. And yet, it had still sparked some sense of self realization within Benedict. Enough for sleep to elude him for most of the night. And then, Henry had called him over. Truth be told, Benedict thought to decline the invitation. But . . . he could not be a coward. He could not ignore or avoid Henry forever. Nor, did he want to. He supposed, it was better to have Henry in his life as a friend, than not at all. Yet, not even certain as how to define what his heart seemed to be filled with. All from a mere kiss. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He readied himself, feeling a strange sense of nervousness consuming him. As he arrived, and was announced, he forced his body to remain still so not to pace nervously. He leaned against the wall, then stood straight. He his hands in his pockets, then took them out. Fortunately, it was not long until he was escorted to where Henry was. Seeing Henry in this state of . . . well, a state that was very unlike Henry, made Benedict both wish to comfort him and yet, caused his heart to throb even more. A small smile formed on his lips as he expressed gratitude for accepting his invitation, taking the gestured seat to sit. "Granville," he greeted in return. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I wished to see how you were faring after last night." A sudden thought horrified him . . . what if Henry did not recall what had happened? And yet, would that be so terrible? Would it not save them the conversation? Or were they just to pretend it did not occur. With how heavy Benedict's heart was beating, he was surprised it did not burst out of his chest. "Please, no apology is necessary. I, completely understand." Benedict had to ensure not make this an awkward encounter. He had to bite back whatever threatened to be blurting by an unguarded mind. "How do you feel?" A question with genuine concern over the well being of his . . . friend. Tag bunny Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

HENRY WATCHES HIM FROM BEHIND HIS GLASS, and he considers Benedict's body language. Ah, so he did not dream the kiss. There was a small part of him that had hoped that's what happened, deep down, in spite of remembering it clearly. "I appreciate your kindness, as always."  He says, relaxing back in his chair as he puts a bite of sausage in his mouth.  He eats it thoughtfully, considering how to answer his friend. . .

He remembers tugging him in and the way Benedict responded to the kiss. . .  

"Words will probably not properly describe how I'm feeling."  Henry decides, letting a laugh escape him after he finishes chewing.  "I would lie to anyone else, you know.  But I feel absolutely gutted.  Everything I've told you -- about Alfred, about Wetherby and I. . . I feel as though I'm a liar now.  I actually believed the two of us would be together until our old age."  And that thought makes his eyes glaze over, and his throat catches again.  For heaven's sake.  Keep it together, Henry.  "But this, too, shall pass. . . I suppose."  That felt as pathetic as it sounded. 

"I uh -- after you left, I think I drank my weight in brandy."  Henry rubs a hand over an unshaven face.  He looks rough.  

He looks at Benedict and then back down to the array of food and drink before them.  Henry considers before grabbing the tea prepared in front of him.  He sips it slowly and then turns, scanning the room  --  and he sees a half-empty bottle of brandy.  He gets up and pours some contents into his tea, and then he offers the bottle to Benedict. 

"I thought about it all. . . including being indecent with you.  I am still quite astonished that you did not punch me.  And grateful."

Tagging: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict truly felt for the man. He recalled all too clearly the expression that crossed Henry's features when he spoke of Alfred; how he had defended their love and spoke of the heartache that came with not being allowed to publicly express it. It had been . . . inspiring, to say the least. So to now see the man in such a state, truly caused Benedict's heart to ache for his . . . friend. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You believed in the strength of love," he began to tell him. "There is no shame in holding this belief." Henry may believe himself a liar but Benedict knew in the earnest with which the artist had spoke of it . . . that he truly did believe it. That he truly held hope in it. It was just heartbreaking, that Alfred did not do the same. "And I hope, that it does not forever taint it." Taint his belief in love and his chance for happiness. He wanted that for Henry; the man deserved it. His eyes followed Henry as he went for the bottle of brandy, taking in the disheveled sight of him which only added to Benedict's sympathy and compassion for the man. When he passed him the bottle, Benedict silently decided not to drink from it but still held it in his hand. And then, Henry spoke. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ " . . . including being indecent with you." It was then that Benedict casually took a large gulp of the drink, the word ringing in his head and heart and knowing that it really should not affect him in such a way. Indecent. He understood what Henry meant of course and yet . . . surely, that is how others would describe it if they had known. His family. Friends. Society. Indecent. Yet something that may be considered to many as such . . . felt so incredibly . . . Benedict nonchalantly took another drink, trying to swallow back anything -- thoughts, emotions -- from flooding to the surface. He did after all, have a terrible poker face. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Your actions did not deserve any such response," he assured him. Apart from the fact that Benedict was not a physically violent person . . . Henry did not deserve to be struck in the midst of his heartbreak. "I uh . . . " What did he even say? Henry spoke of not lying to Benedict yet, Benedict could not bring himself to be so honest with Henry. Nothing would come of it and it would surely, only cause Henry further pain. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Besides, he did not need the weight of Benedict's complicated emerging feelings to be added onto all that he was already going through. "I aimed to be there to offer support and comfort. And hope that my presence did not do the opposite. I would not wish for you to feel any added weight to what you are already experiencing." Honest words; ones that vocalized his thoughts just . . . conveniently leaving out anything to indicate how that kiss had affected Benedict. Tag bunny Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

OH HOW WONDERFUL BENEDICT BRIDGERTON IS. . .  Henry finds himself quietly staring at this young man with a giant heart.  Has he lost his touch?  Wasn't he a bright mind once, eager for the world?  Eager to learn more about love?  Optimistic.  Those blue eyes are full of many emotions, and Henry finds himself momentarily lost in them.  There is a reason besides momentary madness that he kissed Benedict last night.  Their friendship has gotten close, has become meaningful.  Henry wasn't wrong to think his heart started straying away from Alfred.  He and Benedict had similar interests, similar ideologies. . . They understood each other.

Henry rubs a hand over his mouth and considers Benedict's kind words.  The kindness is truly overwhelming.  Lucy has been a rock, but it is strange to have someone else in his corner like this.  It is easy to make acquaintances, harder to make deep connections with people.  Henry falls silent as he thinks.  His mind has been full of confusion.  Let him find some clarity here and now.

"I will... perhaps believe in the strength of love again."  Henry admits with a soft croak in his voice.  "I had seen it in your sister, you know?  The Duke and Duchess, when I had painted their portrait last season. . . the very picture of devotion, I remember recalling.  What was humorous about that situation is that I could tell they were fighting.  They would hardly meet each other's eyes, but then they did. . ."  And he gestures with his hand.  "And something sparked."  Henry nods his head, looking at his laced tea.  He takes another sip as he considers the rest of Benedict's words. 

"I will not boast that I have had a good life, Bridgerton.  It has been incredibly difficult, even if I paint a beautiful picture of how second sons have all the fun.  Loving a man. . . being in love with a man. . . while it is the most wonderful thing in my world, there is so much to consider.  So much to. . ."  Henry pauses.  "It is the simplest thing in the world, to fall in love.  And yet it is the most difficult.  Wetherby and I could only touch and hold each other in private.  We could not announce our love to the world because it could have resulted in our death.  Or, perhaps, worse."  Henry smiles ruefully.  "Ultimately, I understand his position.  He is to be married.  He will have a wife that will hold him to his duties, and not a saint like Lucy.  He can no longer hide around in this life.  I had always knew this day would come.  I lied to myself that it wouldn't.  I begged the universe -- or even God, if he's there -- that it would work out in the end because I had never felt so. . . in love before."  He sighs, shoulders slumping.  "I was blind-sighted last night, but I knew it was only a matter of time as the pressure continued to fall on Wetherby's shoulders.  Second sons aren't scrutinized.  I got married when my father demanded it, and then I was out of the Ton's eye.  Wetherby was a young bachelor, a lord.  Of course he knew he would need to marry eventually.  I am heartbroken, but I understand. . ."  He closes his eyes briefly as tears form again.

"Our world is cruel. . . making him choose between his own happiness and his duty.  But he chose his life.  I must accept that."  Henry moves to wipe a tear away.  He breathes slowly, controlling himself much better today than he had the night before.  He looks to Benedict. 

"Something else that I must accept is that. . ."  He trails off, looking into those understanding eyes.  It's as if Benedict can see into his soul.  It's as if he can just exude. . . lightness and curiosity and passion.  "My heart might have been. . . pulling away from Wetherby as well.  And I believe he saw it, too.  I think that's why he did not fight for us."  Henry purses his lips together.  "Your presence was very welcome in that moment, for I do not think anyone else could have given me the same comfort you did.  Because, Bridgerton. . . you are. . . you." 

Henry pauses, then, and he holds Benedict's gaze meaningfully.  "My heart was being pulled toward you."  And he smiles ruefully.  "It almost feels good to get it off my chest, but everything is so confusing right now. . . I kissed you because I wanted to.  Because I have been thinking about you.  Because your presence fills me with great joy.  You fill me with great joy, Benedict Bridgerton."  He pauses again, letting the words sink in.  There is no way that Henry could even try to be in a relationship right now. . . but could he give himself hope?  

Tagging: Benedict Bridgerton