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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Lee can't help smiling back, and it feels really good, being here with Eric, finding this love together, feeling the same way about everything. "Please call me your boyfriend," he says, still smiling, his fingers trailing down the side of Eric's neck.

"I believe you," he says after a beat. "I trust you. I want you. I love you," he goes on. "Things, down the road, things will probably get rough," he says then, fumbling his words a little. "If it gets to be too much, I'll understand. But please be honest with me, okay?" he requests softly.

"I'm not going anyplace," I repeat. "I don't care how rough it gets. How sick you get. I'll take time off work, or we can get one of those home nurses when I can't be with you. But I'm going to be here, Lee."

I swallow hard. My mind's made up.

"To the end."

Lee has to bite his lower lip against the flood of emotions Eric's determination and dedication send through him, trying not to remember the ones who didn't stay, overwhelmed by knowing that Eric thought loving Lee was worth the risk, that the time they had together meant enough to weather the storm.

"Thank you," he manages, swallowing against the tears that rise in the back of his throat. "Fuck, I love you," he adds, laughing once wetly. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so glad I did it."

"Hey, shh, don't," I say, hushing him with words and kisses. "It's okay. No, don't do that..."

I'm not quite sure what I did but he's clearly overcome. And I don't know what to do except keep close and try to get rid of whatever I've done.

Lee laughs against Eric's mouth, overcome by pure happiness and joy as he moves to pull Eric close, hugging as best as he can from their positions on the bed. "I'm sorry," he says, tone still light. "I just can't believe you want me, that you want to be with me, knowing how sick I am." He pauses, shaking his head softly. "I've never felt more loved in my life. And I swear, I'm going to cherish you until my last breath."

"It's ok," I tell him, hoping he knows I really mean it. "I want to be here. I want this. I...I love you."

As if that's the only reason I need, which it is because it's the only reason I have. Maybe I'm stupid and totally fucking naive of what cancer really looks like and maybe I should be more scared or, I don't know, wary. But I'm not. I'm not because I'm in love with this man in my arms and I can't imagine being anywhere but at his side.

"You're an amazing person, Eric," Lee says, and he moves to lay back, pulling Eric down with him so they can lay even closer together. "And I'm so in love with you." He leans up, kissing Eric's cheek softly.

"I have to tell you, I'm a little desperate to know everything about you," he admits with a soft laugh after a moment of silence. "We keep talking about talking, but it's so hard to keep from kissing you every time I see you."

"I know. Same," I laugh, kissing him to prove the point. Then I pull back enough that I can look at him clearly. "What do you want to know? I'm dying to know everything about you, too. Like why the fuck you're a vegetarian of all god damned things..."

Lee's smiling once Eric pulls out of the kiss, and he'd love to lean right back in, but he really wants to talk to Eric too, find out everything he can about him.

"Well, it started out as a dietary restriction," Lee replies with a laugh. "I had to cut red meat anyway, an experiment I was doing with my doctor. And I was converting to Buddhism at around the same time, so I just stopped eating meat all together. I was actually a vegan for awhile," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"The one thing I keep wanting to ask is really silly, but I like knowing these things," he says, turning the conversation to Eric. "So, what's your middle name?"

"Michael. After my dad," I say, wetting my lips. I kind of feel like an asshole for teasing him about the vegetarian thing now that I know.

"Mine's Matthew," Lee replies. "After my dad's father. And Lee isn't my real first name, it's a nickname," he adds. "I'm Philippe Matthew Fallon on my birth certificate," he says with a soft smile.

"Philippe?" I repeat, wrinkling my nose. "Weird. Ok. Back home everyone called me Preston, but here everyone calls me Eric."

"My mom was French," Lee says with a smirk. "Kids in school gave me a hard time with Philippe, so I started going by Lee in junior high."

He brushes his hand over Eric's hair, looking him in the eyes. "Do you prefer going by your first name or your last?"

"I like Eric, now. When I was in high school I wanted to be different, though. I went to school with, like, five Erics, so Preston was good. Then," I explain, my own hand roaming up and down over the curve of his hip.

"You're actually the second Eric I've met here," Lee says. "I have a friend, Eric Bittle. The pie guy," he says with a laugh. "I can't wait to tell him about you," he adds.

"Let's see, what else," Lee ponders, his thumb stroking the side of Eric's neck. "Can I ask sex questions?" he asks after a beat.

"Yeah, I laugh, a little embarrassed. "You can ask sex questions."

It's not like I have a ton of experience so I don't have anything to hide. If anything, it makes me nervous that he'll only be reminded again that I'm younger than he is.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to grill you for details or anything," Lee replies, his fingers trailing down to Eric's shoulder.

"We'll start with the easy ones," Lee says. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

That is an easy one, though I kind of don't really remember it.

"Seventeen. I got wasted and this guy I know fucked me before I passed out," I confessed.

Lee tries to keep from frowning, but it sounds like an unpleasant story. "Did you want to have sex with him?" Lee asks, curious how things had gone down.

"More than anything. I was so in love with him. He didn't give a shit about me, but, God, I loved him," I tell him, thinking about Neil and our days back in school. It seemed like forever ago.

Lee still doesn't like the sound of the story, and he immediately wonders if this is the same unrequited love that Eric told him about the first time they met.

"Sounds romantic," Lee says, unable to help his sarcasm. He doesn't know who this guy that Eric's talking about is, but already dislikes him a whole lot.

I'm quiet for a long moment, remembering what I can.

"No," I finally say. "It wasn't romantic. It wasn't special. It just...happened. What was your first time like?"

"It wasn't romantic either," Lee says, filing away his feelings about Eric's friend for later. "I was eighteen. My family moved to Florida and I went to see them on spring break after I started college in Louisiana. I met a guy at a beach party."

It's not a bad story, he doesn't regret it, but he feels a little raw about it now in the light of Eric's. "I was pretty drunk too. He fucked me in one of those changing shelter things while the party was still going on down the beach."

"I don't think anyone's first time is all that great," I say, toying with the tight skin over his hip bone. "I we think it's going to be, but then it's awkward and it hurts and you're self conscious. I'm kind of glad I was fucked up and just did it. I know it wasn't good."

I'm not sure if Neil cared if it was good. As long as he got off.

"I didn't want to deal with figuring it out when I was that age," Lee replies. "And the sex wasn't great, no. I got splinters in my ass," he goes on. "But he had sex with me again the next day. In my bed at my parents' house. That was better."

He sighs, shaking his head. "I don't remember the guy's name, though. And I bet he doesn't remember me at all."