"Then sleep, my heart," he replied continuing to pet him as the tension of Fletcher backing off eased. "Let me be the one to watch over you for once. I'll get back to bed before it's too late and we'll have tomorrow and the next day and all the days after. You cannot break yourself to steal more hours in the day just because you managed to acquire yourself a—what would we call ourselves?"

He saw a man pushed to his limits like was so often done to him, and he stopped. There was no sense in throwing it all at Theo at once. They had time, and when he was ready, they could explore what this meant. But he wasn't out to make him the same raw, beaten, sobbing wretch that he'd just been. Not over something this miraculous. "Could say the same to you," he replied, reaching to wipe Theo's tears away yet again. "Tonight's made us both a mess, hasn't it?"

His hand fell back to the bed. Eye half-closed, his catlike grin returned at the scratch of delicate fingers through his hair. "Love," he mumbled. "You're going to send me to sleep again, spoiling me with this. You...you've got to help me stay awake, not the opposite."

"Oh the most squeaky actually. Just like how I recall mice were, all high-pitched, quiet, and cute," he teased. The more Fletcher spoke though of hopefulness, the more unsure Theo looked. His lips narrowed into a small pursed mouth and the tears that had misted at the corners of his eyes actually fell.

"I don't know," he spoke choked up with them. "I never knew to try. I feel so stupid for never having done this before. You beautiful, brilliant man," he murmured combing his fingers through Fletcher's hair again. "How do you always find all the ways burrow into my soul like this? I don't think I've cried so much in all my life," he laughed softly trying to scrub at his cheeks. 

"'S good. Now you know for a fact that I'm not some awful squeaky git. Just a bastard man." Fletch beamed at Theo, content to let him work through the revelation now that it involved a little less physical intensity. "Just told you about the prison dots, that was all. Since you asked. And it was all I could think of, n'..."

An idea struck him. It was stupid of him to ask. Theo would know it already for himself, probably, and he didn't want to get the man's hopes up and then dash them, but... "Wonder if you can hear singing. Or humming. Music, you know. Since it's...since it's where you go sometimes to work things out."

Theo flushed and giggled back. "It seemed right in the moment. You went and did what you wanted so so did I." He rubbed noses with the other man, much sweeter and calmer now that he had his breath back and the initial wave of realization had passed.

"I'm sorry for startling you though. I—you—what did you say actually? I...," he misted up slightly and sucked his lips in as he tried to recenter himself before continuing. "I can't understand anymore." Then in a barely audible whisper he added, "I heard your voice."

"Theo? Hey. Stay with me, love. Where've you gone? What's — mmf — "

Theo interrupted him mid-sentence, pulling Fletcher in with the kind of torrid fervency that he himself had held back from earlier. It was the last thing he'd expected. He'd thought there'd be crying and holding. Joy, maybe, and relief. But with the weight of grief still lingering and his tears still staining his cheeks and the taste of sour whiskey fresh on his tongue, he wasn't entirely ready for the degree of Theo's passion. He returned the man's kisses with careful ones, allowing him this moment but too concerned and preoccupied to take it any further.

This felt like the market, he realized. This was Theo on a high. He wasn't sure how to feel about that when it struck so many dangerous chords from the past, even if it came from a place of so much elation. When the nobleman was done, Fletcher held him close and allowed him to rest there against his brow. He did begin to chuckle, though, as what he'd been called caught up with him.

"Bastard man?"

He could hear it. He could hear all of it! None of it made sense but for the first time in twenty-five years, Theodore Archer was hearing another human being's voice, and not just any voice but that of the man he professed to love mind, body, and soul. 

When Fletcher pulled away at last it was to see Theo with eyes wide in overwhelmed intensity. His breath raced in and out of his lungs so quickly he bordered on being unable to breathe entirely. He did not even answer the other man just continued to stare like a haunting statue. 

Then suddenly the hand on Fletcher's shoulder let go and sunk instead into his hair. Theo grabbed a hefty fistful and yanked the man in again as he surged forward to kiss him passionately. Where all Theo's previous kisses had been slow, warm, tender, and loving, this one was full of grappling fire and need.

"You absolute bastard man," he declared fondly against his lips as he tried to catch his breath. Theo felt dizzy and lightheaded and yet still continued to kiss him deeply until his vision blurred with dark spots. Only then did he pant and rest his forehead against the other man. 

"You did, didn't you?" Fletch murmured, more to himself than to Theo. The man's body was positively rigid, and if this were any other time he'd have backed off and given him room to breathe, but the way Theo had tried to run from it made him want to give him this all the more. He pressed his face and neck tighter in and racked his mind for something, anything to talk about.

"The dots," he said as loudly as he'd dare at this time of night. "You asked about the dots. It was charcoal and a stolen ink pot from the guards, and a sewing needle on a stick. And I did them because I was bored. There's nothing to do in prison but piss, wank, and sleep. And they're dots because I can't draw a straight line worth a damn, so tallies were out. There."

Fletch pulled away again to get a good look at Theo, searching for a reaction. "More? Want me to stop?"

He placed his hand on Fletcher's arm as if to push him away but shivered at the gentle kiss. Theo said nothing even after the buzzing of Fletcher's words upon his skin had ceased. But the tension in his body did not fade, only grew stronger and a sharp, short gasp escaped him. 

Theo could hear.

He could not make out the words or understand what they meant but a bit less faintly than before he was able to hear what he could only assume was his beloved's voice. It was strange and nothing like he remembered sound being like but also familiar and warm. He remembered how he had once told Fletcher that he could hear tuning forks when placed against his ear in the same spot and wondered how he had never tried this before. 

Still though he said nothing, too afraid to admit it and break it. Too afraid to hold hope for something he had accepted and let go so long ago. And too afraid that it would be another reason for Fletcher to consider him unworthy or too much hassle. 

Fletcher's eye darted between Theo's, expression growing more and more intense as the man went on. And then Theo went small and started running from the idea, and Fletcher's grip tightened on his shoulder as if to keep him from backing away from hope. "I don't care. This is more important. Come here, we're trying it again." He didn't bother to wait for Theo's answer before wrapping his arms around the man and snugging back up close. He buried his face like he'd done before, planting an affirming kiss on his neck before speaking again. "How about this? Can you hear this?"