lee_fallon | PSL - Post Mardi Gras Party

From here.

They take the stairs more slowly tonight than the did the first time they'd come here together, not quite in as big of a rush, and certainly more sober. Lee let's them in, but he doesn't move to take off his blazer this time, just goes into the kitchen, setting down the cup of glitter and going into his pantry. He's fitted it with a pretty reasonable system of wine racks, and the bottles of wine take up fifty percent of the space, the other half nearly empty because Lee is terrible about stocking food at home.

He looks through a few bottles until he finds a sweet Vouvray from 2014 that promises to be pretty good. It's not as high in alcohol as he promised Eric, but it will be very easy to drink, and quickly, so not a bad place to start. He pulls a Riesling while he's in there as well, and he takes both to the counter to remove the corks, smelling each cork as he pulls it from the bottle.

Taking down two glasses, he fills them a third of the way with the Vouvray. "Okay, this is just the tasting pour," Lee says, meeting Eric's eyes. "After I show you how to taste it, I'll fill the glass the rest of the way," he assures Eric.

"First things first, hold the glass by the stem, not the bowl, like this," he shows Eric, grabbing the stem of his own glass about half an inch from the bowl, hooking his index finger around it and securing it with his thumb. "Then you smell it," he goes on, tipping his glass close to his nose, taking a heavy inhalation of the wine's bouquet. "And once your nose is full of the smell, you take a little in your mouth. But don't swallow right away," he says, giving Eric a heated little grin. "Roll it around in your mouth for a minute, over your tongue, then swallow." He gives Eric a demonstration, taking a small sip, holding it in his mouth, tasting all the nuances of the flavors, then swallowing.

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I do it just like he does, stem, smell, all that. It tastes like wine to me. I don't know what I'm supposed to get out of this. I mean it's good and shit, sweet and a little tart and it's good enough to drink. I wonder if he can tell if I'm kinda faking it as I sip and roll it around and then swallow.

"That's good," I say, not sure what else I'm supposed to say about it. I mean, I know it's important to him so I try but I'm pretty sure I don't have the class for this.

Lee laughs, proud of Eric for making the effort to try. Most people don't get it the first time, and some people never do. Lee's been doing this since he was a teenager, so it was second nature to him now, but he definitely doesn't expect Eric to become a connoisseur, either now or in the future.

Taking the bottle in hand, he moves to fill up Eric's glass. "There," he says with a smile. "Now you can just drink it."

"Oh thank god. That's what I'm good at," I say, huffing out a sighing laugh. The glass is heavier so I hold it by the glass instead of the stem and when I take a drink I definitely don't do the sniffing bullshit. I just swallow a large mouthful.

"So why wine? Like, what about wine made you want to do that for a living and know everything you do?" I ask as I work on getting a buzz.

"It was entirely genetic," Lee replies with a grin as he pours more wine into his own glass. He still holds it by the stem, but he doesn't take small sips anymore either, drinking a regular swallow.

"My grandfather is from France and that's what he did, and his son too, my uncle," he goes on. "My uncle bought a wine bar when I was in high school, and I ended up working there after college with the intention of taking over when he retired. Which I did," he finishes with a proud smile.

"That's really cool," I say, thinking of my own family for a moment. Doing that only makes me take another big drink.

"My car's my legacy. It was my grandpa's and he gave it to me when I moved in with them."

So weak. God, I just keep waiting for him to realize I'm nowhere near cultured or cool enough to be with him. I know it's my own insecurity and part of me knows he'd have already run if he really wanted to, but I can't help it. I can't. Since my parents died I had absolutely shitty self-confidence.

"It's a pretty amazing car," Lee says. "I can tell it has a lot of history. There's nothing that could show up here for me that would mean that much," he goes on, thinking about how empty his life was back in New Orleans, just counting down to the end.

"Is hair what you've always wanted to do for a living?" he asks after a beat.

"No. I was going to college just to get my AA. I figured I'd probably get a job at the corn brokerage where my grandpa worked and die in Hutchinson. But then I got here and tried to keep going in college but I wasn't very good at it. I am good at hair, though, so I went to the hair academy and got a job at House of Pop. I'm really good with color. I guess I have a head for the chemistry of it," I shrug. "And I like it. I sure as hell like it better than even the idea of the corn brokerage."

"It sounds a lot better to me too," Lee replies. "I'm glad you've found something you like here."

Lee stops for a moment, taking another drink of his wine. "If you could go back home, if you had the choice, would you?" he asks, not testing the waters or anything, honestly just curious.

"No. I hated it there. I fucking hated Kansas and I didn't get along with my grandparents. They didn't know what to do with me," I tell him. "After my parents died everything went to hell. Honestly, I'm still not all that great."

Lee frowns deeply, feeling bad for bringing the mood down so completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, his regret genuine. “I didn’t mean to make you think about all that. I’m doing a pretty great job of ruining the evening, aren’t I?” he adds with a hollow laugh.

"No. No, not at all. I just...I don't like to think about home. If I pretend it's really gone, all behind me, I do better," I say quietly.

Lee nods in understanding, but he doesn’t know what to say in reply, taking another drink of his wine. He feels a little guilty because his reality here is pretty close to the same as the one back home. The only big difference now is Eric, though it is a pretty significant one.

“How long have you been here?” Lee asks to end the silence between them, wondering how many years Eric’s been able to escape that place he clearly hates so much.

"Two and a half years. Almost three," I say. "Three in June. A lot here has changed. I've grown up a lot. I showed up at Christmas at home. Christmas eve. But it was June here."

I take a sip.

"This place really fucked me up at first. My best friend was, like, ten years older than me and he was with this super scary guy who hunted vampires. There's things here I always thought were bullshit like that, vampires, and magic and aliens and all that shit. But here it's real and you just get to this point where you roll with it."

Lee knows about the magic, at least, and he knows there’s more, but he hasn’t been here long enough to run into a whole lot of anything else, a fact which he’s grateful for.

“This place is pretty unreal,” Lee agrees. “But it’s not that different, really, when you get down to the important things,” he adds. “Life and death, friendship. Love."

"Yeah, at least that's all normal," reply, smiling a little at that. I'd been so close to falling into dark thoughts and just like that he pulled me back. No time to indulge in nihilism when I had a gorgeous guy talking about love and looking at me like that. So I power down the last of m wine, barely tasting it and not really even appreciating it, and then I set my glass aside so I can move in close to kiss him.

At first Lee thinks he’s missed the mark and what he said hasn’t helped, but then Eric finishes off his glass of wine, pushes up on his toes, and finds Lee’s lips in a kiss. Lee’s glad, relieved, because he felt terrible for ruining Eric’s good buzz, the happiness they found in that conversation they’d had in the bathroom at the party. After kissing Eric back for a long moment, Lee eases back, his nose rubbing against the side of Eric’s softly. “Do you want to put your gold mask back on?” he asks, voice low, edged with the beginnings of arousal.

"I kinda do, yeah," I say softly. I can smell the wine on his breath but beyond that I can smell him and I really don't think I'll need the mask. Just kissing him has my dick half hard already. But I pull back a little and smile, then I reach in my pocket to pull it out.

"Do you think it'll work here or was it only cursed for at the party?" I ask.

Only one way to find out...so I slip it on and settle it on my face.

“I don’t know,” Lee replies, but he has the same idea Eric does, that trying is the only way they’ll know for sure. As Eric slips his mask on, Lee slips out of his jacket, leaving him just in his button up shirt, and he unbuttons his cuffs, rolling his sleeves to his shoulders.

“Is it working?” he asks Eric, licking his lips as he watches Eric’s face intently.

I'm so warm and I'm suddenly so aware of my dick it's embarrassing. Just looking at him teasing me with getting undressed isn't fair.

"I feel fine," I tell him, and I do. I feel fine. I just can't keep from stepping in close again to help him along by undoing the buttons of his shirt. "Did I tell you tonight how fucking sexy you look dressed like this?"

Lee can see it in Eric’s eyes, the darkness there, the hungry way he’s watching Lee’s hands as he bares his forearms. Lee licks his lips.

“You said I was sexy, I think, yeah,” Lee replies, tipping his head as he watches Eric opening his buttons one at a time from the bottom up. “But you didn’t mention my clothes,” he adds, reaching up and slowly untying Eric’s bow tie, then opening the button at the hollow of Eric’s throat. “I can’t remember, did I tell you how good you look, too?” he asks. “Because you look so fucking good, Eric."

"I feel weird not in black. I thought tuxes were supposed to be black," I say, nimble fingers working all of the buttons open. I push his shirt open and then I'm done talking. I duck down so I can catch his nipple and suck, fingers gripping the soft curve of his waist.

“Not all of them,” Lee gasps, one hand catching in Eric’s hair as he holds Eric against his chest, moaning at the feeling of Eric’s mouth working over his nipple, sucking and licking. “God, Eric, fuck, I love this,” he tells Eric’s breathily, his body arching, pushing against Eric’s hot mouth on him.

I move from the left to the right to suck the other one. There's little more I like better than when he grips my hair. I love feeling his fist in it, tugging and controlling me a little. I moan as he pushes into me and I slide my hands around to grab his ass and squeeze.

Lee’s back arches even more, and his cock starts to throb in his pants, hardening under the lick and suck of Eric’s mouth over his nipple. He pulls a little on Eric’s hair accidentally, groaning at the scrape of Eric’s teeth over him, at the way Eric’s hands grope his ass. “God, yes,” Lee hisses, tipping his head down to watch Eric’s mouth on him, his skin damp with Eric’s saliva.

I lift off and rise up, taking hold of his face in both hands. I meet his eyes just for a moment and then kiss him hard. My lips tingle from sucking his tit and then suddenly there's his mouth. He's so hot and wet and he tastes so good.

"Fuck, I need you," I say into his mouth, my hands dropping to his fly so I can work at his fly. I can feel how hard he is and I desperately want him naked. Now.