Sleeping Patterns (5/6)
Title: Sleeping Patterns (Part 5 of 6)
Author: echo_fangirl
Characters: Connor/Lester (angsty pre-slash)
Rating: PG
Words: 3,679
Spoilers: Season 3, starting at 3.05
A/N & Thanks: Thank you to fredbassett, who very generously beta'd and cleaned this up for me!
Disclaimer: Not mine, as nice as it would be
Previous parts:
( Part 1 ) ( Part 2 ) ( Part 3 ) ( Part 4 )
---
Part 5:
Any anomaly that didn't result in any serious injuries or leave any exceptionally large creatures requiring accommodation really ought to be considered a success, Lester mused. Of course, one couldn't really expect these phenomena to keep to business hours, no matter how much personal inconvenience it caused him. Even so, it would have been vastly preferable if this particular anomaly had chosen to close by, say, five o'clock, or even six. 11pm was an unreasonable hour, by anyone's standards.
Lester had always considered it part of his job to remain at the office, alert and at the ready, until every anomaly was called in as either 'safe' or 'closed', so he was not unfamiliar with late night vigils. The difference tonight was that this vigil was not taking place in his nice comfortable office chair at the ARC, but rather, in his car on the outskirts of a small farming village about 45 minutes drive away.
Connor had been on the team investigating this particular anomaly, which had proved more than usually complicated to close. Lester knew full well that he could have waited at the ARC for Connor to return before driving them both home, but that would only make them even later to bed. Instead, he had driven out to meet the young man in the field.
It was purely an exercise in time saving, of course. While Lester was naturally concerned for the welfare of all his staff, his decision to drive out for Connor in particular was entirely practical. At least, that's what he chose to tell himself. He carefully avoided thinking about how easy it would have been to simply arrange a taxi for Connor once everything at the site had been secured.
Fortunately, Connor's adrenaline-fueled grin as he had bounded up to the car in the dark proved an excellent distraction from such thoughts. Bright against the dark mustiness of the evening, Connor all but glowed with enthusiasm and energy. The halting conversations from the morning's trip in were all but forgotten as Connor's words ran on almost faster than Lester could keep up.
"And then he got the dart rifle, and I'm not exaggerating, he was standing two hundred... no, three hundred meters away, and he got the dart right in its chest! First time! And then it wobbled for a moment and fell right down, easy as anything to drag back through. And then on the other side there was a hill, and we just went a little way so that we could check that there wasn't any other threat, and when we got to the top of the hill we looked down into a valley and there were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. It was absolutely amazing, I wish you could have seen it! And then..."
Connor enthused for several more minutes with almost no input from Lester, before his sentences started to fall back into a more normal rhythm.
"Were there any civilians involved?" Lester asked. He already knew the answer, it had been reported in to him before Connor had made it back to the car, but he wanted to contribute something a bit more concrete that 'oh', and 'indeed' to the conversation.
Connor shook his head. "No, I don't think there was anyone around for miles."
Lester nodded, pleased that Connor's opinion had matched the earlier statements from Becker. "That's lucky. I imagine this one would have been quite complicated to explain away, had there been witnesses."
"Yeah," Connor replied. "For sure."
Lester allowed himself a glance at the passenger seat for a moment, concerned at Connor's rapid decline towards brevity, but relaxed quickly. Connor still looked upbeat and happy, but the adrenaline surge was well on its way out. Connor looked exhausted.
Lester remained deliberately silent for the next few miles, and was not surprised to see Connor's eyes start to droop. By the time the car pulled up to the security gate of his apartment complex, Connor was well and truly out of it. Lester was loathe to wake the young man up, but he also had no intention of remaining in the car all night.
Fortunately, he didn't have to do either. When Lester pulled the handbrake on, Connor blinked and looked around.
"The car's stopped. Are we home already?"
Lester nodded. "Yes," he answered, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling in his chest when Connor referred to the apartment as 'home'. "You fell asleep on the way. Shall we go in?"
---
Having made his way in, Connor headed straight for his room, but stopped in the doorway when Lester cleared his throat loudly. He turned around slowly.
"My room's the next one down. Just get your pyjamas and then let yourself in. I don't intend spending another night in the single bed."
Connor blinked. He was tired enough not to want to get caught up in a long discussion about anything, but this was significant enough to warrant a moment's thought. "I'm pretty tired, maybe I should just sleep in my own bed?"
Lester raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear, Connor. I would very much appreciate not having to get up in the middle of the night to check on you, should I suspect that something is awry. I hope you're not intending to make an issue of this."
Connor reminded himself to close his mouth, wondering how long it had been left open. He swallowed, trying to figure out the best way of phrasing the next statement. The truth was that the idea of curling up in bed with someone else was wonderful, and the idea of Lester as that someone else seemed far less strange than it would have done a few days ago. But he also didn't want to become any more of a burden on Lester than he already was as a house guest.
"You don't actually have to... check on me." Connor said carefully. "I just have occasional bad dreams, that's all. I'll be fine."
Lester stepped up close. Connor had always misread personal space, or so he had been told, but he was pretty sure Lester was closer than traditionally recommended for roommates. He overrode his own instinct to take a step backwards, because he was already pretty much up against the hallway wall already.
"I know I don't have to, Connor," Lester said seriously. "But I choose to. However, that choice would be made much less inconvenient if you would sleep in my room."
Connor nodded, not trusting his voice. Lester smiled.
"You had better get your pyjamas and come along then."
Connor did as he was told, sidling into his room and quickly rifling through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor for something suitable before making his way one door down the hall. He hesitated at the door, peering in.
Lester's room was done in various shades of green, which were much more subdued than he had expected. The walls were a pale moss color, with the duvet a darker shade of the same. The bed itself was consistent with the modern minimalist style of the rest of the house, as were the bedside tables. The lamps on both sides of the bed had been lit, casting warm creamy cones of light up against the wall behind them, giving the room a distinctly intimate feel.
Ever-efficient, Lester had already dressed for bed in the time it had taken Connor to find his way through his own mess. He was turning down the sheets when Connor caught his attention. At Lester's raised eyebrow, Connor shuffled in self-consciously.
"Do you, um..." Connor stumbled over the words. "Do you have a side? Of the bed? That you, ah, prefer?"
"Yes, this one," replied Lester, gesturing loosely at the side he was nearest to.
"Oh," said Connor uselessly. "Good. I guess I'll sleep on this side."
Lester's only response came in the form of an "mmm hmm."
Connor placed his pyjamas in a pile on 'his' side of the bed and started to pull his t-shirt off over his head. Then he stopped.
He had never really been body conscious before, at least, not overly. He'd happily wandered around Abby's flat in nothing but boxer shorts without really thinking about it. Of course, he had the excuse of the heating (not to mention the presence of Abby herself dressed in not much more than her pants).
He was also fairly sure that his body wasn't entirely repulsive. He wouldn't dare to compare himself to the buff special forces soldiers with whom he worked, but after almost three years of running away from dinosaurs, he was pleasantly fit.
Nevertheless, standing in Lester's room with his shirt half way over his head, he felt painfully shy. It didn't matter that it was ridiculous, doubly so since Lester was already in his sleeping gear. It was simply that Lester was watching him get undressed, and that made a horrible warm prickly feeling creep up his neck, threatening his cheeks with an even more embarrassing blush.
"Could you, ah..." Connor gave Lester a pointed look, hoping that would be enough. Lester returned a questioning expression, so Connor was forced wave his finger round in the air in a gesture intended to express 'turn around' without actually saying the words.
Lester had the gall to look amused at Connor's request, but turned his back. "You will let me know when you are done?"
"Yah huh," Connor agreed, changing his clothes in almost record time. He crawled into bed as fast as he could, then pulled the sheets up to his chin. "Okay, you can turn around now."
Lester did so, then quickly and efficiently settled himself into the bed. Lester was instantly at ease, which only served to make Connor feel tenser. He couldn't fathom why Lester believed that this would actually help him sleep better. If he felt any more anxious at that moment, he'd probably burst. He'd burst into a big, messy puddle of anxious. And then he'd have to apologize for causing a mess.
"Let me put your mind at rest, Connor." Lester was lying on his side, facing Connor who was steadfastly staring at the ceiling. "I don't intend to ravage you, or to draw embarrassing illustrations on your face while you sleep, or to cause you any form of harm whatsoever. There are no shenanigans planned. You can relax."
"I am relaxed," Connor lied. He knew it was unconvincing, but didn't really know what else to say.
Lester gave a small, private sigh. "If you say so," he said, then turned off the lights.
---
"Were they angry at you again?" Lester asked, the dark of their shared bedroom failing to obscure the speed of Connor's breathing, the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the duvet, or how he kept stealing momentary glances at his companion.
Another night, another bad dream.
Connor shook his head, but didn't speak. Lester suspected that it was a matter of not trusting his voice, rather than having nothing to say.
"So this was a new dream? A different dream?"
Connor considered this, then shook his head again, more cautiously than before.
Lester's eyes had adjusted to the light properly now, allowing him to see Connor's rapid blinking.
Lester rolled onto his side, using his elbow to prop himself up a few degrees while he adjusted his pillows. "Perhaps we could bypass the round of 20 questions?" he suggested. This earned him a small, forced upward quirk of the lip. It was a sign of recognition only, utterly devoid of humour. There was a nod, but still Connor kept his silence.
Lester let it continue for almost two minutes, waiting for an explanation. He didn't get one.
"You have my curiosity piqued," he eventually said. "It wasn't the normal dream, yet it wasn't a new one?"
"It was..." Connor hesitated, still staring at the ceiling. "It's not the dream I told you about. But it's... I've had it before."
The silence stretched out again. Lester was hesitant to break it, but it was necessary.
"Do you intend to elaborate?" he prompted gently. "Or do I need to go and boil another two cups of water first?"
This earned another small smile of recognition from Connor. It was still distant and forced, but it was something. "No water, but thanks anyway," he said. His fingers kept twisting the bed sheets while Lester watched.
Eventually, Lester placed a hand over Connor's, stroking lightly down to the fingers and gently prising them away from the fabric. He used his free hand to smooth out the sheet, then carefully enclosed Connor's anxious fingers between his palms.
Connor stared at this for a moment. "I'm sorry. I'm not really sure if I'm ready to put it into words yet."
Lester made no comment, just rubbed Connor's hand very lightly between his.
Connor took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts and trying to synchronize his breathing with the movements of Lester's hands. "They're all there, everyone who... left..." Connor pressed out eventually, by an act of sheer willpower. "In my dreams, they're all alive, and they're okay. But then they look at me like they don't know me. Like they never met me." Connor looked at Lester then, eyes bright. "They're all alive, but they don't want me there with them."
Lester felt a spike of sympathetic grief in his stomach. He released Connor's hands and moved to pull him into an embrace at the exact same moment that Connor rolled away from him. Lester settled for resting his hands on the back of Connor's shoulders instead.
"I should... I'll just... I'm sorry, I'll..." Connor sat up, pulling back the duvet and placing his feet on the cold wooden floor.
"Connor Temple, you will stop right this instant." Lester knew how effective his commanding voice could be. Under other circumstances, he might have felt smug at the immediacy with which Connor stilled, but right now Lester just felt frustrated. He took a deep, calming breath. "For someone with such an obvious fear of rejection, Connor, you're awfully quick to run away from someone offering you compassion."
Connor stayed very still.
"Get back into the bed," he instructed. He was still using his commanding voice, but he was gentler about it this time. Connor looked over his shoulder at Lester for a moment, before stiffly complying. Lester refrained from reaching out for him again, this time giving him space. "Do you have any concept of how confusing you can be?" Lester's frustration finally found its voice. "You go around day to day wearing your heart on your sleeve for everyone to see, but the moment anyone calls you on it or offers to help, you run off to be by yourself. Is this some kind of masochism? Do you enjoy feeling isolated and sorry for yourself? Are you self-destructive? It would certainly explain the numerous injuries you seem to inflict upon yourself when you're in the field."
Connor shook his head. "I don't... I'm not... I'm not like that," he protested, "It's just... well... you're you. You don't tolerate excessive shows of emotion. And you never show weakness. And... I really don't want to do anything that would make you throw me out. I'm sorry. I just don't know what I'd do if..." he trailed off again.
"Have I ever given you any indication that I might be inclined to throw you out?" he asked. Connor gave him a look that spoke more than the young man could have expressed verbally in a month. Lester closed his eyes for a moment. "I can be brusque sometimes. That is part of who I am. It is how I prefer to relate to people. However, I have extended an invitation for you to live here with me until you choose to move elsewhere. That invitation is not going to be revoked simply because you are behaving like yourself."
It was hard to tell if Connor was feeling better or worse for that little speech, so Lester decided to move the conversation on.
"Will you be able to go back to sleep, or are you too awake now?"
Connor nervously clutched at his pillow. "I'll go back to sleep," he said, then added, "I really am sorry for waking you."
"You're forgiven, on the grounds that you promise to wake me again if the nightmare recurs. Agreed?"
Connor replied with a small nod. "All right."
Lester rolled back into his preferred position, suppressing his desire to pull Connor into his arms, to protect him from the terrors waiting behind closed eyelids.
Even after all Lester's efforts, Connor was still not ready for that.
---
"Can I ask you a question?" Connor was pretty much certain that his nonchalance was blindingly fake.
He waited for Lester's nod, then hesitated in the doorway to the spacious office. The truth of it was that Lester had been pretty much, well, brilliant to him for weeks now. He had been supportive and understanding. He had provided whatever Connor had needed, from a room to stay in to a sympathetic ear, even when Connor didn't know that he needed it. The very last thing Connor's wanted was to seem ungrateful, and yet...
"Were you intending to ask this question in the near future, or should I have Lorraine pencil something in for tomorrow?"
Connor blushed and ducked his head to hide his smile. Even Lester's comments seemed less officious and more companionable now. Or maybe that was just in the eye of the beholder? Connor took a deep breath, then went for it.
"I was just wondering, with you being really nice to me recently, and letting me come and stay with you... Actually, not just stay but, uh, well you know..." he emphasized that part particularly, leaning into the words to make the implication clear."Then making me coffee and sort of, well making me feel better when I was feeling really down, oh and especially letting me talk to you about, well, stuff..."
"One day, Connor," Lester interrupted, "I will teach you about full stops. You'll find they make sentence construction much less challenging."
Connor swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Right. Sorry. I know... 'Plan your sentences before you say them'... It's just that I just wanted to know..." he paused again, hesitating, then, "Why are you doing all that stuff for me?"
Lester looked thoughtful. Clearly planning sentences before he said them was a skill Lester had mastered a very long time ago.
"You seemed to need it," he answered eventually, simple and to the point. "And it was within my power to make it happen."
Connor chewed at his lower lip. "That's all?"
"It's enough, don't you think?" countered Lester, getting up from his chair and walking around the desk to stand in front of Connor. "I expect that, under similar circumstances, you would do the same for Abby, or for Sarah, or for Quinn?"
"Well yeah," answered Connor thoughtlessly. "But they're my friends."
That sentence came out a moment before his brain finished processing it. That processing, unfortunately, completed just in time to see Lester's reaction. Connor tried to clarify quickly, "I don't mean that we're not friends!" He opened his eyes wide in an attempt to look earnest, but mostly projected an air of 'utterly terrified'. "I mean, well, we're friendly, obviously, I wouldn't dream of implying that I didn't like you, because I do, I really like you and I wasn't saying otherwise..."
"Full stops, Connor" interjected Lester. His momentary flash of emotion had lapsed back into his typical poker face.
Connor nodded.
"Sorry. I just didn't mean what it sounded like I meant. Not really. I'm always doing that, always screwing things up like that. I..." Connor finally overrode his instinct of talking his way even deeper into trouble and fell silent.
Lester kept staring at him, watching silently, until the emptiness in the conversation almost pushed Connor to start rambling again. Then, quiet and serious, he asked, "What, exactly, do you think of me Connor? Am I a manipulative bureaucrat with allusions of grandeur? A convenient colleague with a sharp wit and a suitable spare bedroom?"
Connor shook his head vehemently. This time he was determined to plan his response properly, even if Lester's stare was causing that hot prickly feeling to start in his neck and cheeks again. "No, that's not really what I think of you at all. I mean, sure, I used to think that, before I got to know you, but I don't think that any more." He offered up a hopeful smile.
"Then what do you think now?" Lester asked.
Connor swallowed. "Um... I think you're... a really smart guy, obviously. And you're really good at your job, and I mean really good. And... you're thoughtful. And generous, even though you like to make out like you're only being self-serving when you do it. And I think you're probably a really great dad, 'cause you obviously love your kids like mad. And, um..."
Connor's found his list cut short by a pair of very warm, soft lips pressing against his own. Lester's fingers brushed his cheek, sweeping back to settle by his ear.
Connor blinked.
It took a moment for those few seconds to sort themselves out in his head. Then finally his thoughts caught up with what had happened. Lester had just kissed him.
Lester pulled back, letting his thumb catch on Connor's chin for the barest of seconds. There was a very slight touch of colour high on his cheekbones. "And what are your thoughts about me now?"
Connor blinked again. "I'm... not really sure..." he answered slowly.
"I see. In that case, perhaps you'd like to think it over at your own desk. I have quite a lot of work to be getting on with."
Lester sat back behind his desk, picking up a pen and rolling it thoughtfully in his fingers, firmly entrenching himself in his paperwork.
Connor saw himself out.
Author: echo_fangirl
Characters: Connor/Lester (angsty pre-slash)
Rating: PG
Words: 3,679
Spoilers: Season 3, starting at 3.05
A/N & Thanks: Thank you to fredbassett, who very generously beta'd and cleaned this up for me!
Disclaimer: Not mine, as nice as it would be
Previous parts:
( Part 1 ) ( Part 2 ) ( Part 3 ) ( Part 4 )
---
Part 5:
Any anomaly that didn't result in any serious injuries or leave any exceptionally large creatures requiring accommodation really ought to be considered a success, Lester mused. Of course, one couldn't really expect these phenomena to keep to business hours, no matter how much personal inconvenience it caused him. Even so, it would have been vastly preferable if this particular anomaly had chosen to close by, say, five o'clock, or even six. 11pm was an unreasonable hour, by anyone's standards.
Lester had always considered it part of his job to remain at the office, alert and at the ready, until every anomaly was called in as either 'safe' or 'closed', so he was not unfamiliar with late night vigils. The difference tonight was that this vigil was not taking place in his nice comfortable office chair at the ARC, but rather, in his car on the outskirts of a small farming village about 45 minutes drive away.
Connor had been on the team investigating this particular anomaly, which had proved more than usually complicated to close. Lester knew full well that he could have waited at the ARC for Connor to return before driving them both home, but that would only make them even later to bed. Instead, he had driven out to meet the young man in the field.
It was purely an exercise in time saving, of course. While Lester was naturally concerned for the welfare of all his staff, his decision to drive out for Connor in particular was entirely practical. At least, that's what he chose to tell himself. He carefully avoided thinking about how easy it would have been to simply arrange a taxi for Connor once everything at the site had been secured.
Fortunately, Connor's adrenaline-fueled grin as he had bounded up to the car in the dark proved an excellent distraction from such thoughts. Bright against the dark mustiness of the evening, Connor all but glowed with enthusiasm and energy. The halting conversations from the morning's trip in were all but forgotten as Connor's words ran on almost faster than Lester could keep up.
"And then he got the dart rifle, and I'm not exaggerating, he was standing two hundred... no, three hundred meters away, and he got the dart right in its chest! First time! And then it wobbled for a moment and fell right down, easy as anything to drag back through. And then on the other side there was a hill, and we just went a little way so that we could check that there wasn't any other threat, and when we got to the top of the hill we looked down into a valley and there were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. It was absolutely amazing, I wish you could have seen it! And then..."
Connor enthused for several more minutes with almost no input from Lester, before his sentences started to fall back into a more normal rhythm.
"Were there any civilians involved?" Lester asked. He already knew the answer, it had been reported in to him before Connor had made it back to the car, but he wanted to contribute something a bit more concrete that 'oh', and 'indeed' to the conversation.
Connor shook his head. "No, I don't think there was anyone around for miles."
Lester nodded, pleased that Connor's opinion had matched the earlier statements from Becker. "That's lucky. I imagine this one would have been quite complicated to explain away, had there been witnesses."
"Yeah," Connor replied. "For sure."
Lester allowed himself a glance at the passenger seat for a moment, concerned at Connor's rapid decline towards brevity, but relaxed quickly. Connor still looked upbeat and happy, but the adrenaline surge was well on its way out. Connor looked exhausted.
Lester remained deliberately silent for the next few miles, and was not surprised to see Connor's eyes start to droop. By the time the car pulled up to the security gate of his apartment complex, Connor was well and truly out of it. Lester was loathe to wake the young man up, but he also had no intention of remaining in the car all night.
Fortunately, he didn't have to do either. When Lester pulled the handbrake on, Connor blinked and looked around.
"The car's stopped. Are we home already?"
Lester nodded. "Yes," he answered, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling in his chest when Connor referred to the apartment as 'home'. "You fell asleep on the way. Shall we go in?"
---
Having made his way in, Connor headed straight for his room, but stopped in the doorway when Lester cleared his throat loudly. He turned around slowly.
"My room's the next one down. Just get your pyjamas and then let yourself in. I don't intend spending another night in the single bed."
Connor blinked. He was tired enough not to want to get caught up in a long discussion about anything, but this was significant enough to warrant a moment's thought. "I'm pretty tired, maybe I should just sleep in my own bed?"
Lester raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear, Connor. I would very much appreciate not having to get up in the middle of the night to check on you, should I suspect that something is awry. I hope you're not intending to make an issue of this."
Connor reminded himself to close his mouth, wondering how long it had been left open. He swallowed, trying to figure out the best way of phrasing the next statement. The truth was that the idea of curling up in bed with someone else was wonderful, and the idea of Lester as that someone else seemed far less strange than it would have done a few days ago. But he also didn't want to become any more of a burden on Lester than he already was as a house guest.
"You don't actually have to... check on me." Connor said carefully. "I just have occasional bad dreams, that's all. I'll be fine."
Lester stepped up close. Connor had always misread personal space, or so he had been told, but he was pretty sure Lester was closer than traditionally recommended for roommates. He overrode his own instinct to take a step backwards, because he was already pretty much up against the hallway wall already.
"I know I don't have to, Connor," Lester said seriously. "But I choose to. However, that choice would be made much less inconvenient if you would sleep in my room."
Connor nodded, not trusting his voice. Lester smiled.
"You had better get your pyjamas and come along then."
Connor did as he was told, sidling into his room and quickly rifling through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor for something suitable before making his way one door down the hall. He hesitated at the door, peering in.
Lester's room was done in various shades of green, which were much more subdued than he had expected. The walls were a pale moss color, with the duvet a darker shade of the same. The bed itself was consistent with the modern minimalist style of the rest of the house, as were the bedside tables. The lamps on both sides of the bed had been lit, casting warm creamy cones of light up against the wall behind them, giving the room a distinctly intimate feel.
Ever-efficient, Lester had already dressed for bed in the time it had taken Connor to find his way through his own mess. He was turning down the sheets when Connor caught his attention. At Lester's raised eyebrow, Connor shuffled in self-consciously.
"Do you, um..." Connor stumbled over the words. "Do you have a side? Of the bed? That you, ah, prefer?"
"Yes, this one," replied Lester, gesturing loosely at the side he was nearest to.
"Oh," said Connor uselessly. "Good. I guess I'll sleep on this side."
Lester's only response came in the form of an "mmm hmm."
Connor placed his pyjamas in a pile on 'his' side of the bed and started to pull his t-shirt off over his head. Then he stopped.
He had never really been body conscious before, at least, not overly. He'd happily wandered around Abby's flat in nothing but boxer shorts without really thinking about it. Of course, he had the excuse of the heating (not to mention the presence of Abby herself dressed in not much more than her pants).
He was also fairly sure that his body wasn't entirely repulsive. He wouldn't dare to compare himself to the buff special forces soldiers with whom he worked, but after almost three years of running away from dinosaurs, he was pleasantly fit.
Nevertheless, standing in Lester's room with his shirt half way over his head, he felt painfully shy. It didn't matter that it was ridiculous, doubly so since Lester was already in his sleeping gear. It was simply that Lester was watching him get undressed, and that made a horrible warm prickly feeling creep up his neck, threatening his cheeks with an even more embarrassing blush.
"Could you, ah..." Connor gave Lester a pointed look, hoping that would be enough. Lester returned a questioning expression, so Connor was forced wave his finger round in the air in a gesture intended to express 'turn around' without actually saying the words.
Lester had the gall to look amused at Connor's request, but turned his back. "You will let me know when you are done?"
"Yah huh," Connor agreed, changing his clothes in almost record time. He crawled into bed as fast as he could, then pulled the sheets up to his chin. "Okay, you can turn around now."
Lester did so, then quickly and efficiently settled himself into the bed. Lester was instantly at ease, which only served to make Connor feel tenser. He couldn't fathom why Lester believed that this would actually help him sleep better. If he felt any more anxious at that moment, he'd probably burst. He'd burst into a big, messy puddle of anxious. And then he'd have to apologize for causing a mess.
"Let me put your mind at rest, Connor." Lester was lying on his side, facing Connor who was steadfastly staring at the ceiling. "I don't intend to ravage you, or to draw embarrassing illustrations on your face while you sleep, or to cause you any form of harm whatsoever. There are no shenanigans planned. You can relax."
"I am relaxed," Connor lied. He knew it was unconvincing, but didn't really know what else to say.
Lester gave a small, private sigh. "If you say so," he said, then turned off the lights.
---
"Were they angry at you again?" Lester asked, the dark of their shared bedroom failing to obscure the speed of Connor's breathing, the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the duvet, or how he kept stealing momentary glances at his companion.
Another night, another bad dream.
Connor shook his head, but didn't speak. Lester suspected that it was a matter of not trusting his voice, rather than having nothing to say.
"So this was a new dream? A different dream?"
Connor considered this, then shook his head again, more cautiously than before.
Lester's eyes had adjusted to the light properly now, allowing him to see Connor's rapid blinking.
Lester rolled onto his side, using his elbow to prop himself up a few degrees while he adjusted his pillows. "Perhaps we could bypass the round of 20 questions?" he suggested. This earned him a small, forced upward quirk of the lip. It was a sign of recognition only, utterly devoid of humour. There was a nod, but still Connor kept his silence.
Lester let it continue for almost two minutes, waiting for an explanation. He didn't get one.
"You have my curiosity piqued," he eventually said. "It wasn't the normal dream, yet it wasn't a new one?"
"It was..." Connor hesitated, still staring at the ceiling. "It's not the dream I told you about. But it's... I've had it before."
The silence stretched out again. Lester was hesitant to break it, but it was necessary.
"Do you intend to elaborate?" he prompted gently. "Or do I need to go and boil another two cups of water first?"
This earned another small smile of recognition from Connor. It was still distant and forced, but it was something. "No water, but thanks anyway," he said. His fingers kept twisting the bed sheets while Lester watched.
Eventually, Lester placed a hand over Connor's, stroking lightly down to the fingers and gently prising them away from the fabric. He used his free hand to smooth out the sheet, then carefully enclosed Connor's anxious fingers between his palms.
Connor stared at this for a moment. "I'm sorry. I'm not really sure if I'm ready to put it into words yet."
Lester made no comment, just rubbed Connor's hand very lightly between his.
Connor took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts and trying to synchronize his breathing with the movements of Lester's hands. "They're all there, everyone who... left..." Connor pressed out eventually, by an act of sheer willpower. "In my dreams, they're all alive, and they're okay. But then they look at me like they don't know me. Like they never met me." Connor looked at Lester then, eyes bright. "They're all alive, but they don't want me there with them."
Lester felt a spike of sympathetic grief in his stomach. He released Connor's hands and moved to pull him into an embrace at the exact same moment that Connor rolled away from him. Lester settled for resting his hands on the back of Connor's shoulders instead.
"I should... I'll just... I'm sorry, I'll..." Connor sat up, pulling back the duvet and placing his feet on the cold wooden floor.
"Connor Temple, you will stop right this instant." Lester knew how effective his commanding voice could be. Under other circumstances, he might have felt smug at the immediacy with which Connor stilled, but right now Lester just felt frustrated. He took a deep, calming breath. "For someone with such an obvious fear of rejection, Connor, you're awfully quick to run away from someone offering you compassion."
Connor stayed very still.
"Get back into the bed," he instructed. He was still using his commanding voice, but he was gentler about it this time. Connor looked over his shoulder at Lester for a moment, before stiffly complying. Lester refrained from reaching out for him again, this time giving him space. "Do you have any concept of how confusing you can be?" Lester's frustration finally found its voice. "You go around day to day wearing your heart on your sleeve for everyone to see, but the moment anyone calls you on it or offers to help, you run off to be by yourself. Is this some kind of masochism? Do you enjoy feeling isolated and sorry for yourself? Are you self-destructive? It would certainly explain the numerous injuries you seem to inflict upon yourself when you're in the field."
Connor shook his head. "I don't... I'm not... I'm not like that," he protested, "It's just... well... you're you. You don't tolerate excessive shows of emotion. And you never show weakness. And... I really don't want to do anything that would make you throw me out. I'm sorry. I just don't know what I'd do if..." he trailed off again.
"Have I ever given you any indication that I might be inclined to throw you out?" he asked. Connor gave him a look that spoke more than the young man could have expressed verbally in a month. Lester closed his eyes for a moment. "I can be brusque sometimes. That is part of who I am. It is how I prefer to relate to people. However, I have extended an invitation for you to live here with me until you choose to move elsewhere. That invitation is not going to be revoked simply because you are behaving like yourself."
It was hard to tell if Connor was feeling better or worse for that little speech, so Lester decided to move the conversation on.
"Will you be able to go back to sleep, or are you too awake now?"
Connor nervously clutched at his pillow. "I'll go back to sleep," he said, then added, "I really am sorry for waking you."
"You're forgiven, on the grounds that you promise to wake me again if the nightmare recurs. Agreed?"
Connor replied with a small nod. "All right."
Lester rolled back into his preferred position, suppressing his desire to pull Connor into his arms, to protect him from the terrors waiting behind closed eyelids.
Even after all Lester's efforts, Connor was still not ready for that.
---
"Can I ask you a question?" Connor was pretty much certain that his nonchalance was blindingly fake.
He waited for Lester's nod, then hesitated in the doorway to the spacious office. The truth of it was that Lester had been pretty much, well, brilliant to him for weeks now. He had been supportive and understanding. He had provided whatever Connor had needed, from a room to stay in to a sympathetic ear, even when Connor didn't know that he needed it. The very last thing Connor's wanted was to seem ungrateful, and yet...
"Were you intending to ask this question in the near future, or should I have Lorraine pencil something in for tomorrow?"
Connor blushed and ducked his head to hide his smile. Even Lester's comments seemed less officious and more companionable now. Or maybe that was just in the eye of the beholder? Connor took a deep breath, then went for it.
"I was just wondering, with you being really nice to me recently, and letting me come and stay with you... Actually, not just stay but, uh, well you know..." he emphasized that part particularly, leaning into the words to make the implication clear."Then making me coffee and sort of, well making me feel better when I was feeling really down, oh and especially letting me talk to you about, well, stuff..."
"One day, Connor," Lester interrupted, "I will teach you about full stops. You'll find they make sentence construction much less challenging."
Connor swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Right. Sorry. I know... 'Plan your sentences before you say them'... It's just that I just wanted to know..." he paused again, hesitating, then, "Why are you doing all that stuff for me?"
Lester looked thoughtful. Clearly planning sentences before he said them was a skill Lester had mastered a very long time ago.
"You seemed to need it," he answered eventually, simple and to the point. "And it was within my power to make it happen."
Connor chewed at his lower lip. "That's all?"
"It's enough, don't you think?" countered Lester, getting up from his chair and walking around the desk to stand in front of Connor. "I expect that, under similar circumstances, you would do the same for Abby, or for Sarah, or for Quinn?"
"Well yeah," answered Connor thoughtlessly. "But they're my friends."
That sentence came out a moment before his brain finished processing it. That processing, unfortunately, completed just in time to see Lester's reaction. Connor tried to clarify quickly, "I don't mean that we're not friends!" He opened his eyes wide in an attempt to look earnest, but mostly projected an air of 'utterly terrified'. "I mean, well, we're friendly, obviously, I wouldn't dream of implying that I didn't like you, because I do, I really like you and I wasn't saying otherwise..."
"Full stops, Connor" interjected Lester. His momentary flash of emotion had lapsed back into his typical poker face.
Connor nodded.
"Sorry. I just didn't mean what it sounded like I meant. Not really. I'm always doing that, always screwing things up like that. I..." Connor finally overrode his instinct of talking his way even deeper into trouble and fell silent.
Lester kept staring at him, watching silently, until the emptiness in the conversation almost pushed Connor to start rambling again. Then, quiet and serious, he asked, "What, exactly, do you think of me Connor? Am I a manipulative bureaucrat with allusions of grandeur? A convenient colleague with a sharp wit and a suitable spare bedroom?"
Connor shook his head vehemently. This time he was determined to plan his response properly, even if Lester's stare was causing that hot prickly feeling to start in his neck and cheeks again. "No, that's not really what I think of you at all. I mean, sure, I used to think that, before I got to know you, but I don't think that any more." He offered up a hopeful smile.
"Then what do you think now?" Lester asked.
Connor swallowed. "Um... I think you're... a really smart guy, obviously. And you're really good at your job, and I mean really good. And... you're thoughtful. And generous, even though you like to make out like you're only being self-serving when you do it. And I think you're probably a really great dad, 'cause you obviously love your kids like mad. And, um..."
Connor's found his list cut short by a pair of very warm, soft lips pressing against his own. Lester's fingers brushed his cheek, sweeping back to settle by his ear.
Connor blinked.
It took a moment for those few seconds to sort themselves out in his head. Then finally his thoughts caught up with what had happened. Lester had just kissed him.
Lester pulled back, letting his thumb catch on Connor's chin for the barest of seconds. There was a very slight touch of colour high on his cheekbones. "And what are your thoughts about me now?"
Connor blinked again. "I'm... not really sure..." he answered slowly.
"I see. In that case, perhaps you'd like to think it over at your own desk. I have quite a lot of work to be getting on with."
Lester sat back behind his desk, picking up a pen and rolling it thoughtfully in his fingers, firmly entrenching himself in his paperwork.
Connor saw himself out.