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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"Oh, please," says Connor, rolling his eyes, but he does look pleased all the same. "It's just a college. I got my degree in English Lit - it's not like I'm a brain surgeon or something."

"I went to the University of New Orleans," Lee replies. "Because I got in state tuition there. And my degree was in hotel, restaurant, and tourism management," he adds with a smirk. "You might as well be a brain surgeon compared to that. All I know is wine."

"My parents have money," says Connor, rolling his shoulder in a shrug. It's not a boast, it's just a fact. "I know..virtually nothing about wine, honestly. I just buy whatever's recommended."

"My mother's family is from France," Lee tells Connor. "My mom's parents moved to Louisiana before she was born, but my grandfather was very into wine. My uncle opened a wine bar in New Orleans when I was college and I worked there, then bought into it, and now I own it," he goes on, and he likes to tell this story, since it's the thing he's most proud of in his life. "I know a lot about wine," he laughs.

"Wow," says Connor, genuinely impressed, and he likes a story like that. "I'm Irish on my dad's side, Italian on my mom's, hence the colouring. My dad's in Law, my mom never worked."

"My dad's Irish too," Lee says with a grin, liking that they have that in common. "I like the Italian in you," he says, and it's meant to be a benign compliment, but it comes out sounding a lot more sexual than he'd intended. He clears his throat. "My parents got divorced when I was young. I haven't seen my dad in a long time. Mom's remarried now, and I have three half siblings. They live in Fort Myers Beach, Florida."

"Isn't the line supposed to be something about isn't there a little bit of French in me or would I like there to be?" asks Connor, raising both eyebrows. "My dad died when I was at Harvard. My mom's still at home where I was born and then there's my sister and her husband and her kids."

"You're right," Lee replies, shaking his head at himself. "I blew that one. Though in our case maybe I should ask if you'd like some French in you again."

It feels a little weird to be hitting on Connor and talking about their family lives, particularly when Connor mentions his dad's passed away. It definitely sobers the moment. "I'm sorry to hear about your dad," he says. "It sounds like your family is close."

"Get me drunk over lunch and we'll talk." He ruffles one hand back through his hair, definitely letting his eyes wander. It's easier than thinking about what it had actually felt like when the old man died. "Yeah. Me and my sister, definitely. She's a couple of years older than me."

Lee smiles at Connor, and it's almost an invitation, but it doesn't really seem serious, and Lee's not going to push his luck. Even if the sex they had before was spectacular.

"My siblings are all ten years or more younger than me," he says. "And they moved away when I was 18, so I'm not very close with them anymore." He's a little sad about it, he always has been, but it works better now, considering his condition.

God, that's a good smile. Connor is way too sober for a smile like that. He flags the waitress down and orders a beer.

"Gemma and I talk every on the phone Thursday night," he says. "We started when she went to college, so when I was...fifteen. This is...pretty much the longest I've gone without talking to her my whole life."

Lee orders a beer himself, well and truly over the idea of continuing his run. He's not sure if he and Connor will just eat and then part ways or not, but he can still feel the pull of attraction between them. Lee definitely wouldn't mind having another go with Connor.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Lee says, feeling truly sympathetic.

"It's okay," says Connor, but he's not sure that it is. In a catalogue of hurts, he can't figure out which is worse - Oliver, Gemma, his mom, Michaela. He doesn't know how to order the losses. "I'll just have to make sure I stay distracted."

It's a reasonable strategy, though Lee hopes Connor can continue to find distractions that aren't getting falling down drunk. He's probably sensitive to it, but the idea of ruining your body is something Lee doesn't condone.

"Well," he says, taking a swallow of his beer, now that they've arrived, "If you're ever interested in a distraction like the one from the other night, let me know."

He remembers it in a rush - the heat of it, how intense it had felt, even though the haze of alcohol. He definitely blushes.

"I...may definitely take you up on that, actually."

Lee licks his lips, and he can see Connor's pupils dilate a fraction, and he knows Connor remembers their night together better than Lee hoped he would.

"I should probably give you my number," he says, knowing that he has Connor's but not sure he'll pull the trigger on setting up a booty call himself. He pulls his own phone out, scrolls to Connor's number and types a quick text message. It's a little cheesy, but the text reads, 'If you ever find yourself wishing you had more French in you...'

The text comes through and Connor huffs a laugh through his nose as he glances at his phone screen.

"So," he says, leaning back in his chair, beer paused on the way to his lips. "What do you want to know?"

Now that Connor's asking, Lee's drawing a blank. He knows Connor said he could ask anything, but there are definitely some topics Lee is going to avoid as much as he can.

"When did you know you were gay?" he asks finally. It's a softball, but it might be a good place to start for additional conversations.

"I think I've always known," he says, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's an easy conversation to have - one he's had a hundred times. "Lost my virginity when I was fourteen."

"Me too," Lee replies. "I've always known, I mean. I didn't lose my virginity until I was almost eighteen. But I'm a gold star gay. I've only kissed a girl once, and she was my best friend in high school," he tells Connor. "And then only because she told me I should try it to make sure I didn't like it," he adds with a laugh.

"I'm guessing you didn't like it?" he says, smirking against the lip of his bottle before he takes another sip. "I...went to an all boy's boarding school in Connecticut. So...you can imagine what that was like."

"No," Lee replies with a laugh. "I mean, it was fine, but it was like kissing a friend I had no interest in having sex with," he adds. Then, when Connor describes his boarding school, Lee makes a low sound of appreciation. "God, that sounds like a great place to explore your sexuality. I actually fooled around a lot with a friend of mine in school before I had sex, and then I ended up losing my virginity to a stranger on spring break, like a complete cliche."

"I've never kissed a girl," says Connor, smirking, dipping his head a little. "I pretty much worked my way through every hot guy within three grades of me at school and then I moved onto my physics tutor."

So older men have always worked for him

Lee can understand why Connor's physics tutor would have been interested. Connor's not really young, but he's a lot younger than Lee is, he's sure. But he's got a look about him, like he knows what he wants, and doesn't let things like age get in the way.

"Why were there never guys like you at school when I was there?" he asks rhetorically. "I didn't really get into a groove in my sex life until after my first serious boyfriend. I was trying really hard to buck the trend and be monogamous. It even worked for a while."

Connor doesn't want to talk about monogamy. He doesn't want to think about how hard he did try to make it work. How hard he worked to be good.

"What's something you've always wanted to try but never got the chance?" he asks, hoping to swerve the conversation onto a completely different track.