George ducked his head and smiled. If anyone could have been said to have the most insight into his endless fascination with Sebastian, it would have been his brothers. He'd talked their ears off about him. Not constantly, but he had gone through short periods where almost everything was all about Sebastian. The response he eventually got was usually a period-appropriate version of 'Why don't you just marry him if you're that obsessed.'
Oh, the irony.
"I hadn't heard from him since I left England," George said, taking a sip of his drink. "We had a fight, before I left. I was still pretty messed up from the Crimean War, and he had his own demons that were dogging him. We were both assholes to each other, basically. Flash forward two centuries later, and I've pretty much been living out of my car for the last decade, playing vagrant. I come to New York, and he's the first person I find. He was in a bad way. A really bad way."
Sebastian would almost certainly tell Patrick more if he asked; George just didn't want to make that decision for him.
"He's doing better now, though. A lot better. I'm doing better. Moved in with him a while ago and things have just been amazing. I feel like things are finally how they should be."