Work Text:
Knock. Knock. Knock!
George awoke with a start, gracelessly falling off his couch and onto the floor with a loud thump.
“Ow.” He rubbed his arm over his face for a moment, realizing painfully that he had left on the lights before he had fallen asleep over writing. His pen- where was it? But upon him trying to sit up, the pen answered that question of its whereabouts for him. He had landed on it, as well as his notes. “Aw,” he sighed, shaking his head, and picked up his things, carefully carrying the already wrinkled paper and his writing utensil to the desk in his bedroom.
Upon his return, another series of now sharper knocks jolted him out of his thoughts.
Oh. Right. A smile made its way on his face. There was only one person who knocked like that, and the same person was also one of the most night-active of his apartment house’s tenants. Or time-indifferent, he wasn’t too sure. (He wasn’t too sure about the current time either, if he was being honest.)
He opened the door with something akin of flourish, leaving the by far no longer bedazzled tenant on the other side standing with his hand up in the air, just having been about to knock again.
“Hello, Mister Dylan! Wait-” He remembered something. “Bob!” George was outright beaming at him. He couldn’t help it. He liked the man.
“Uh.”
Few words as ever left his lips.
“Uhm.” The small man scratched the back of his head, eyes searching the floor as if he could find the words he wanted to say there. When he finally looked up again, looking almost hesitant for a split second, George was already looking at him expectantly, still smiling warmly. It clearly didn’t help the situation and a light blush spread over Bob’s face. George really had to resist the urge to chuckle, the sight in front of him was too adorable.
“The water pipe in the kitchen broke again. ...yeah.” He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets almost defiantly, gaze firmly locked on George’s.
“Now...” George’s smile fell for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that, I thought that problem had finally been fixed after last month’s repairs.”
Of course it wasn’t fixed. And it wouldn’t be for a long time if neither of them would finally work up the courage to speak out what they were feeling for each other. George knew. He was the fucking landlord of this building. He had never received a bill from the plumber- whom he knew personally. He got told with a laugh from him though that his tenant had apparently played a prank on him. There had never been a leak and he had even been paid the money that the journey to the building had cost him.
George had to admit – albeit begrudgingly because it had been so embarrassing to learn about it this way – that it had taken him three entire years to understand. That all the incidents and problems Bob had visited him about had only been made up reasons, excuses to see him, George.
Several squeaky doors, neighbors’ loud parties (these ones seemed to be true, but he’d still stood at George’s door at 3am after seemingly having successfully shut up his neighbors. The last time it had happened, George had to walk back to his flat with him wearing only his pajamas and bathrobe, Bob ranting half the way there before falling silent. It had been nice and George had offered first-name basis to him that night.), a flickering kitchen lamp – a lot of problems that could easily be fixed. And caused.
George had been baffled and the plumber had left laughing quietly and with a short shake of his head. Even his plumber had figured it out faster than him.
So, he wasn’t entirely sure why Bob was trying this excuse again. He must have realized that this was one incident George would learn the truth about. Right?
“Would you mind... taking a look at it?” Bob was shuffling a bit on the spot now, still looking directly at George but clearly growing nervous. George wondered why Bob would want him to come when the last time the water pipe had “broken” he’d asked him to just call the plumber.
“Yeah, sure. Just give me a moment.” George turned around and slipped into his shoes, before grabbing his key and closing the door behind him. He almost tripped and brought him and Bob down, Bob apparently having forgotten to move to make space for him to step outside.
A quiet “uh” was all that the other man uttered though, apparently unfazed about being overseen. Or forgetting he had to move to not be run into by others. George shook his head and gave him a small smile. He gestured forward, motioning for Bob to come along. “Let’s go.”
As they walked, he turned to look at his tenant up close for a quiet moment, enjoying his profile and the changing emotions he couldn’t quite hide from his face now that George had an idea of what they might be, before asking, honestly wondering: “What’s the time even, by the way?” Bob turned his head for a second before looking straight ahead again and replying: “Sometime past four p.m. ...I think.” He shrugged and George found himself mirroring him. “Alright.”
When they arrived at Bob’s flat, George stayed a step behind, waiting for Bob to open the door. When he followed him inside his kitchen, though, he had to find that there was indeed a leak in one of the water pipes in the kitchen after all. As well as two buckets full of water in one corner of the room, a wet towel in front of the sink and a still fairly empty bucket standing underneath the dripping water pipe below the sink.
“Oh.” It sounded as surprised as he was.
“I told you it was broken,” Bob replied flatly, hands shoved into his pants pockets once again.
“... yeah. You did. Sorry.” George shook his head to himself, taking a closer look at the leak. “I’ll get the plumber to look at it right away.” He turned around, about to leave to call the man in question, but caught a glimpse of Bob’s kitchen clock.
“Or tomorrow.”
Bob followed his glance to see the watch hands indicate eleven p.m. and let his shoulders slump even further. “Yeah, alright.”
He walked George to the door of his apartment. “I’ll just. Change the bucket every five hours, I guess. Can’t sleep with this dripping noise in the background anyway.”
George stopped, wondering. “Why did you tell me only now, though?” Bob raised a surprised eyebrow at him. George cocked his head. “The water buckets in the corner.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I probably should have told you about this earlier.” He looked at George apologetically. “I was kinda stuck in a working phase and leaving for a while would’ve thrown me outta it.”
George nodded, then moved to turn. Halfway out of the door, however, he stopped himself and took a steadying breath.
This incident might not have been an excuse for once, but he should finally stop pretending he didn’t know that Bob liked him back. He wasn’t sure if Bob was equally aware of George’s feelings for him, but as they say: there’s only one way to find out.
He turned back, one hand on the door handle and the other running through his hair in order to give himself something to do while meeting Bob’s inquiring gaze.
“Do ye...” His accent was becoming stronger, betraying his nervousness. George cursed inwardly before carrying on. “Would ye like to come upstairs?”
Bob’s facial expression was hard to describe – eyebrows both raised higher than usually, mouth open and expression something akin to bewildered, all while a blush spread over his face again – and George contemplated simply turning around and leaving for a moment.
Which he almost did, but a second before he could do so, Bob let out shaky “That’d... be nice. Uh. Thank you?” He looked as nervous as George did and picked up his keys again.
The way upstairs was quiet, neither of them speaking and the near silence of the sleeping house adding nothing to it. They caught each other trying to glimpse at each other a couple of times, and at one point, the back of George’s hand briefly brushed Bob’s. They both pulled back their hands as if the touch had hurt like a jolt of electricity, just that... it had not been an unpleasant feeling at all.
George let them inside his apartment, nearly dropping his keys when trying to open the door. He went over to his couch to sit down, only to find Bob still standing in the entrance area of the apartment when he looked back toward him.
George was lost for a moment before he inquired: “What’s wrong?” Bob just shook his head. “I should probably have brought a book or something.” He sighed tiredly.
“You can take a look at mine and read any of them if you’re interested,” George smiled, nodding toward the shelf opposite of him. Bob moved inside the living room to take a look at where George was pointing. It was a big book shelf. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Thank you.” He remained standing on the spot like a statue once again though, and George patted the spot on the couch next to him.
“Come, sit down, Bob.”
Hesitantly, the other man complied. “Tell me about yourself?” George asked. He wasn’t sure the other man was listening though, his eyes fixed on the ground instead of on George.
“How about you do?” Bob suggested and, reaching down quickly, picked up a paper George must have overseen after his sudden and harsh awakening earlier.
“Oh.”
“You write, too?”
“I don’t write screenplays like you, no. I just... enjoy writing songs when I can.”
“As do I.” There was a smile tugging on the corner of Bob’s lips and he looked down on the paper. “You aren’t half bad if I may say so, Mister Harrison.”
“George.”
“George.” He put down the paper on the living room table in front of them and turned to face George more directly. Their knees bumped together and this time neither of them pulled back, Bob letting his knee rest against George’s. George felt the touch all over his body.
“Bob.” It fell from George’s lips before he had even come up with a proper sentence to follow his name up with. Instead, he found himself hesitantly reaching out for Bob’s hand that was resting between them on the couch. Bob saw him move, probably understood what George was about to do, but he didn’t pull back his hand. In fact, he let out an audible breath when George took his hand in his own and started running his thumb over it in slow circles.
“I forgot what I wanted to tell ye,” George admitted with a shaky voice, looking at him sheepishly. He didn’t know what it did to Bob, on the inside. How he was the first one to more than just have caught his fancy in almost a decade. How many times Bob had fought with himself on his ways upstairs, feeling guilty for being about to tell George another lie but at the same time unable to not feel giddy about the prospect of seeing him again.
But he was about to learn how desperately Bob had been wanting to kiss him for years now.
So, when he saw Bob lean in, he had approximately two seconds to react, but instead he found himself unable to move. The butterflies in his stomach were taking over all the control he had over his body, rendering him unable to do anything but let his eyelids flutter shut.
Bob, despite the suddenness of the move, kissed him gently, just a peck on his lips before George found himself able to respond to it. Then, breaking into a smile, he began kissing him back, pressing lots of featherlight kisses to Bob’s lips as quiet laughter of happiness started falling from his lips. His laughter surprised Bob for a moment, before he pulled back to see the mirth in George’s eyes and smiled at him.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long...” He shook his head lightly, eyes unconsciously fixed on George’s lips before George’s reply had him look up sharply in shock.
“And I’m glad that your apartment is hopefully going to be – mostly – alright from now on.”
Bob leaned back a little bit. “You knew?!” George shook his head, smiling about his own obliviousness. “Actually, I didn’t. Not until recently. But the water pipe story last month gave it away. The plumber told me everything.”
Bob cursed under his breath and George took his hand again to squeeze it lightly. “It’s okay, you know?” Bob didn’t need to look at him to know that he was smiling, but it was this smile among other things that had made him fall so madly, ridiculously fast for George, so he looked up again. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
George then waggled his eyebrows and Bob snorted. “If this is how you usually get your tenants to kiss you, then it’s not gonna work on me.”
George laughed and was about to reply in honesty that Bob was the only one of his tenants he had ever developed any kind of romantic feelings for, but Bob was faster and continued: “But you as a whole are just irresistible, so you got lucky.” And he placed his hands on George’s cheeks and pulled him in for another kiss.
At some point, George started to deepen the kiss and Bob, in turn, opened his mouth only all-too willingly, a huff of warm air ghosting over George’s face. George stopped kissing him back for a moment, just so that Bob opened his eyes in confusion. His bright blue eyes up close were absolutely breathtaking.
George realized belatedly that he must have said this aloud, because Bob was giving him a look he couldn’t read, before brushing his thumb across George’s cheek.
“Your eyes are quite decent themselves, y’know? And your laughter lines.” Bob was positively smiling now, a look George hadn’t seen so often on him yet.
Bob surprised him even more, leaning in and pressing gentle kisses to his mentioned laughter lines. “You’re gorgeous.”
George shuddered. It had been a long time since anyone had been this affectionate toward him and it was as though someone had turned on a heater inside of him. He was feeling wonderfully warm all over.
Bob shuffled closer and somehow managed to gracefully straddle George’s thighs, George immediately reaching out to steady him with a hand on the small of his back. Bob gave him another smile, this one a bit more teasing.
“And you drive me utterly crazy.”
George’s eyes widened for a moment, before Bob began kissing him heatedly and he shut his eyes before long, too overwhelmed to keep them open.
Running his right hand running through Bob’s hair while the other held him close by the neck, he sucked in Bob’s bottom lip between his own lips, drawing a gasp from the other man. Their open-mouthed kisses were becoming faster, their breathing heavier. Then, Bob shifted even closer, straddling George’s waist, and their crotches met teasingly for a moment. George couldn’t stifle a quiet moan and Bob grinned. He deliberately repeated his motion, drawing another moan and a soft curse from George this time, before he continued kissing George, increasingly passionate.
Also, increasingly more breathless. Their kisses were becoming frantic and sloppy and at one point, Bob had to pull back to take a deep breath. He met the gaze of George, who was gasping for air beneath him, strands of hair hanging in his face and his lips red and wet.
“You wanna do this?” He asked, elaborating before George could ask: “This whole thing. You and me. In a relationship? Making out and also... couple stuff?”
If George was honest, this was not the question he had anticipated in their current situation, but it wasn’t a question he was upset about. At all. He took Bob’s hands in his. “I’d love to.”
Bob nodded. “As do I. I’m... not good at relationships, but you make me wanna try. You are worth the effort.” He smiled, before grinning mischievously and attacking George’s neck with kisses, reducing his reply to spluttering that eventually turned into a sharp hiss when he also brought their crotches together again.
George turned them over then, pinning Bob down on the couch beneath him.
“You wanna do this, too?”
Bob raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been wanting to date you for months now, so unless you don’t wanna-“
George kissed him. “’course I do!”
Bob grinned. “Then yes.”
George sat up and helped Bob to his feet, too, when Bob saw the clock hanging on the opposite wall and remembered something.
“You have four hours till I gotta go downstairs and change the buckets.” Bob grinned cheekily at him, making George roll his eyes at him affectionately. He took him by the hand and pulled Bob to the bedroom door behind him, smiling.