lee_fallon | PSL - Chance Encounter

Lee's been in Darrow now about a week and a half, and he's been to every bar in the city limits, met all of the owners, and offered to tailor each of their wine lists. He wasn't getting paid for any of this, but based on the amount of money in his bank account, his monthly stipend, and the cost of rent, he didn't really need money to get by day to day. And he certainly didn't need to save up for anything.

He still hasn't bothered to see a doctor. He feels like he probably should, just so someone in the city (besides his dear friend Susan) knows what was going on with him. But he'll get to that later.

Today he's out for a run. His running shoes arrived in the mail yesterday, and he's been itching to get his pulse up. He never feels as alive as he does when he's out on the street, feet pounding against the pavement, sweating freely, breathing hard. Sex is a very close second, but nothing beats the adrenaline rush of a good, hard sprint.

He doesn't have a route yet, just sort of turning left and right at intersections with no rhyme or reason. He's planning on doing six miles today, using the app on his phone to track his progress; so far he's just over four miles, maintaining something close to an eight minute mile pace, nice and respectable.

But then, turning a corner, he stops, abruptly enough that he nearly stumbles. It's been a few days since he last saw Connor, his last glimpse when Connor slipped out of his apartment. He'd thought about calling a few times, just to check on him, but for some reason Lee had always changed his mind.

Here he is now, walking down the street, late afternoon sun lighting up his face. Lee's thought about him a lot, about what it had been like to be with him, but also worrying about him, all that sorrow filling him up, sending him on a self-destructive path. He looks good, right now, not happy really but not falling into himself like he had been a few nights ago.

He can't make himself say anything, just stands and watches Connor walk his way on the opposite side of the street. He's breathing heavily from running, covered in sweat, and his heart is pounding, but some of that has to do with seeing Connor again. More than he's willing to admit even to himself.

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Lee smiles, because for all of Connor’s words to the contrary, he’s sure Connor loved every second of it. Maybe it’s because Lee’s life is so short these days, or maybe it’s because he’s never really been a fan of waiting, but orgasm denial isn’t something he’s ever much enjoyed himself.

“Did those ropes hurt?” he asks, curious, detaching.

"Uncomfortable, maybe," he says, idly tracing his fingers around his wrists. "The one around my balls hurt if I leaned wrong. Or when he tugged on it."

Lee nods, and he can imagine how that might feel. He’s worn cock rings before, but he’s never been at anyone else’s mercy the way Connor’s describing now. He thinks he’d like to be, but it’s one of those desires he’s hung up now, something he should have done when he had the chance.

“And he got off on that? Having you tied up that way, having to do whatever he said?"

"Yeah," says Connor, nodding, turning his head so he can look at Lee as they talk. "I mean, he fucked me pretty solidly too. And had me suck his dick."

Lee nods again, and he can’t imagine anyone would be able to resist fucking Connor, no matter what their other interests were.

“It sounds pretty hot,” Lee says, and he’s not lying, it does. He knows it’s not something he’d ever be able to reproduce, but he has a feeling if it’s something Connor really wants, he can probably find someone here who can.

"Yeah," he says, nodding, reaching out one hand to graze his fingers against Lee's belly. "But what we just did? Super hot too."

The touch is comforting, and Connor’s words are too. Lee’s sure he’s broadcasting, and he really should try to stop. The last thing he wants is to bring Connor into his dark spaces. Theirs is a situation of mutual pleasure and nothing more.

“Not too bad for a first attempt,” he replies, turning his head to look at Connor beside him. “And improvised tools."

"Damn straight," says Connor, grinning, rolling onto his side to study Lee's profile. God, he's handsome. "Bet we could do better in a second try."

Lee blinks at him, smiling slowly. “Are you asking me to tie you up again tonight?” he asks, and he’ll do it if that’s what Connor wants, but there’s a part of Lee that hopes he doesn’t. He’s not sure he can concentrate on it again, for one, especially knowing how much better it can be done. And he still doesn’t have anything really serviceable to use to do the binding, unprepared as he is for it.

"You don't have to tie me up again," says Connor, tracing his fingers up and down the stretch of skin between Lee's navel and the start of his public hair. "But you liked treating me like that. I could tell."

Lee bites his lip and shifts his attention away from Connor’s eyes for a moment, feeling a little conflicted but knowing he can’t deny it. “I did,” he says, turning his gaze back to Connor’s. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” he admits. “I didn’t know I had that in me."

"Yeah, well, it suits you," says Connor, his fingers moving lazily. "And I'm pretty glad to bring that out in you."

“I’ve never told anyone about those things I said I wanted,” Lee tells Connor, closing his eyes and tipping his head to feel Connor’s touch. “You bring a lot out in me. It’s too bad I didn’t meet you until now,” he says with a quiet laugh.

"I'm totally staying so you can feel free to make up for lost time," says Connor grinning. He stretches his back, arching on purpose, trying to draw Lee's eye. "I'm at your mercy."

Lee turns to look at Connor beside him on the bed, lithe like a cat, content. If nothing else, he’s given Connor some peace tonight. He’s not going to ruin that by asking for things he knows Connor would rather not give him. He’s not prepared to tackle anything else on his list tonight, not logistically, though he has a feeling this might be his last shot.

“I’m in my head a little,” he tells Connor, being honest. “Help me get out of it?"

"Absolutely," says Connor, closing the space between them, pressing close against Lee's side and bending his head to kiss him, a teasing touch of lips. "What do you need?"

“Kiss me again,” Lee asks, and it’s more careful than a demand, but not quite a question either. Even just the ease at which Connor agreed to help him is making him feel better, and he thinks getting back into the mood of sex won’t take too much more.

Connor leans in immediately and kisses Lee, harder and more certain than before. He nudges Lee's mouth open, kissing him thoroughly. It's remarkably easy to get lost in. It's exactly what he needs.

Connor doesn’t say anything, just dives back in, kissing Lee like he doesn’t want to do anything else. It feels good, special, and Lee lets himself get caught up in it, cupping the side of Connor’s face, reaching out to twine his tongue with Connor’s, pushing deep. Connor’s a great kisser, and he can feel his body heating again already, warmth spreading through him.

This? Is exactly what he needs right now. Lee is beautiful, older, experienced, and he kisses like he needs it, like all he wants is to lose himself in Connor. Connor can sympathise with that. He shifts, leaning over Lee a little more, pressing the kiss a little closer still, hand still pressed low on Lee's belly.

Lee’s hand moves to the back of Connor’s head, his fingers weaving into his hair, his other hand finding Connor’s upper arm and holding it, stroking the skin gently with his thumb. This feels so good to him right now, and again he feels young again, like he has the luxury of being able to fall in love. He doesn’t, and he won’t, but it’s a beautiful feeling and he lets himself have it, if only for a little while. They continue kissing, mouths and tongues and lips and teeth connecting and colliding in so many ways, and Lee feels his body reacting, warming up, getting ready for more.

Eventually, Connor breaks the kiss, breath shivering out against Lee's lips for a moment as he stays as close as he can. He swallows, eyes darting down to Lee's lips, back up again.

"Would you let me fuck you?" he asks. He suspects he knows the answer.

Lee's sorry that the kiss ends, but he's not unhappy with getting to see Connor's face, his pretty eyes fixed on Lee's, his expression hungry but tender. He's surprised by Connor's question, and it catches him off guard for a moment. He has to take a breath before he can answer.

"Yes," he says, his voice shaking a little as he nods. "God, yes."

"Good," says Connor, grinning, dropping his head to press a kiss against the hollow of Lee's throat. He sits up onto his knees, pushing one hand back through his hair, aware of what the movement does to the muscles in his chest, his upper arm.

"Roll over."

Lee watches the pull of muscles in Connor's chest as he moves, and he's loathe to have to lose the view, but he does as Connor asks and rolls onto his belly. He tucks his arms under his shoulders, allowing his head to be up for the moment, at least until he finds out what Connor has in mind for him.