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It turns out that, for all the fuss that was made about it, this dance is actually very boring.
This is only just barely a surprise; any event that requires chaperones is an event that Lindsay generally doesn't look forward to. But it is true. Lindsay has had maybe a bit too much to drink, by now — he's accustomed to Bacchanal rites; the feeling is hardly unfamiliar — and successfully slipped away from his chaperone, and yet it is still boring.
"Your Lindsay, my Leo — I'm so proud of being yours, I wish I could show it off —"
Kissing!
"I'm going to wake up with you in the morning and go to bed with you at night and you can interrupt me while I'm writing and we can fight and make up and I won't have to wait for your letters ever again--"
"And I'll sleep every night in your arms, and I'll get to spend time with you like we have time to waste —"
Leo twirls Lindsay's hair around his finger. "I can't wait to waste time with you."
His eyes fall closed. "Me either."
Leo is so soft and so warm and so good.
Lindsay is so soft and so warm and so good!
Maybe they should get their time-wasting started by taking a nap.
He's more than a little worried, but it's hard to be unhappy about that when it means he can keep Leo here.
Leo sends a letter to his parents that says he's keeping his friend company while his husband was called away by surprise on business, which is totally true. Then he snuggles up to Lindsay with his nose in his hair and starts telling him about land rents.
He can listen to Leo talk about land rents for as long as Leo wants to talk about them.
(They've never had so much time before.)
That's — worrying. Lindsay does his best not to be visibly worried at Leo but he's worried.
Leo is very very good but there is a limited extent to which Lindsay is distractable at the moment.
He's attentive and cuddly and enthusiastic about kissing and enthusiastic about — other things — but he doesn't hide that he's worried, still.
Ash comes home mid-afternoon. "Afternoon, Lindsay, Leo."
He's doing an almost perfect job of hiding how tired he is.
"Afternoon."
Almost perfect is not perfect. He tries not to be too obviously worried.
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