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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That makes more sense to me, hearing him say that. Someone hurt him bad when cancer got hard, I'm guessing. What an asshole.

"Do you want to tell me more?" I ask softly, not sure if that's a scab he really wants to pick at.

It's not really that Lee doesn't want to tell Eric, it's more that he's not sure Eric needs to hear about all his baggage. But Eric seems at least a little interested, so Lee decides he'll just try to keep it short.

"I was living with a guy when I was diagnosed," he says evenly. "I was a twenty four year old gay dude who was already settled down, I thought I was really beating the cliche. I had a regular physical that turned into a trip to the dermatologist that turned into surgery, but it was early still, I had a lot of hope left." He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. "He left me. He stayed until I'd recovered enough to be functional and then he broke up with me. It was a long time ago, but it really messed me up. I was really in love with him."

The scars from that are still there, of course, but they're as healed as they're ever going to be. Lee doesn't think about it much, but it was a hurt he'll never completely forget. "I had another boyfriend after that, several years later. He didn't find out I was sick for a while, but he stuck by me for a few months. He couldn't handle the chemo, and I can't really say I blame him. He at least seemed sorry about it, when he dumped me. After that I realized it was asking a lot for someone to come into this, to have to deal with me being sick from the treatment and the possibility of me dying young, so I just..." Lee shrugs. "I stopped making connections with people. I wouldn't let myself get close, get attached."

"But...now..." I say softly. "Is this something you want? Does this fuck up all your plans? Me?"

Lee shakes his head softly. "No, it doesn't fuck anything up, being with you. It's not like I don't want to be in love," he says, sighing softly. "I just hate that you'll have to have to make the decision to see me get sicker or leave me," he goes on, and his throat is getting a little close now, so he swallows against the feeling.

I don't want to think about either, and I don't want to think about him vanishing, either. So I give his hip a shove where I'm holding onto him.

"Shut up. Don't be stupid," I tell him. "Let's just worry about now. One day at a time. Okay?"

Lee's thankful for Eric's easy response, because he already knows Eric's heart is made up, at least for now, and that's all anyone can hope for. Things change all the time; there's no reason to dwell on the future, even if Lee doesn't have much of it to worry about.

"Thank you," Lee says, leaning up to kiss Eric's mouth. "I'm sorry, this conversation took a major turn. I just wanted to know more about you."

"Yeah, well...I like The Cure and hair and green jello but I hate cherry anything, and I make a hell of a peanut butter peach pie. I had a great childhood, I've picked grapes once, and since I got here I'm not nearly as depressed as I used to be. And everything else we have time for you to find out," I say, rattling off stupid trivia about myself to try to lighten the mood.

It's good stuff, light and fun, and though Lee has some heaviness weighing on him, his own and Eric's from earlier, he's more than happy to try to let it go, at least for now. "Those are good things to know," Lee says with a smile. "Especially the cherry thing. I wouldn't want to buy the wrong flavored lube," he adds with a wink.

"That's where I draw the line. I can't love anyone with a cherry flavored asshole," I tell him, then give a little fake retch like I might just puke.

Lee laughs, and though he hasn't actually done it in years, he thinks he might actually buy some flavored lube, though obviously not in cherry. "What's your favorite kind of sex?" Lee asks, not really wanting to get back into the getting to know you questions, but definitely interested in talking more about sex.

"I like sex when I've got a good buzz. Smoke a bowl or just have a couple beers. I like kissing, so I like to be face to face, but there's something to be said for going from behind, too. I don't know. I kind of don't care. I just want to be good," I tell him, then kiss him to prove my point. "What about you?"

Lee breathes a laugh. "Good is usually the goal," he says, and he knows that's probably not true for everyone, but it always has been for him. "I like morning sex," he answers Eric's question. "Waking up and talking or not, kissing, starting lazy and quiet. And then just going, feeling it build and get desperate, letting it happen how it happens." He takes a breath, one of his hands stroking up and down the length of Eric's back. "I like what it means, too," he adds. "Having someone in your bed in the morning means they stayed the night."

"Mmm, I like that, too," I smile. "You were so good the other morning. You felt so good. I realy love you, you know? I'm not just saying it. I really do."

It's interesting the way Eric says he loves Lee in the same breath that he mentions the sex they had their first morning together. It's an assurance, and Lee doesn't mind getting it, but it makes him wonder if Eric's worried Lee doesn't believe him, or that Lee doesn't really love him back.

"I really love you, too," he says, moving his hand to cup Eric's cheek. "It happened really fast, but I know it's real." He takes a breath, his eyes on Eric's, serious and sincere. "I want to make you happy," he tells Eric. "I want a life with you. I want all sorts of things with you, and I can't have them all, but I want as many as possible."

That comforts me, the way he touches me and the way he assures me without making it a thing.

"Okay," I say, feeling like an idiot for being insecure when it's so fucking obvious he's in this too right along with me. "Okay. We'll do everything we can. Everything. All of it."

"You have no idea the things I've already been thinking about," Lee says, sighing and stroking his fingers over Eric's face. "Like what you said when we first met and I told you that gay marriage was legal."

"You want to get married?" I ask, not proposing or anything, just asking. And suddenly I can't stop smiling.

Lee blushes, which is something he doesn't do often, as sure of himself as he generally is. "I realize it's insane," he says first, having a hard time meeting Eric's eyes out of embarrassment. "But yeah. I do."

"Well...you ask me someday," I tell him. I duck in, seeking his mouth and kiss him lightly.

Lee kisses Eric back, and he lingers there for a few moments, partially because he just really likes kissing Eric, but also because it keeps Eric from seeing his face. He loves the idea of getting to ask Eric to marry him, of a wedding and a honeymoon (as much of one a person can have in Darrow, unable to leave the city), of a house and a life together. He knows the reality is a lot more grim, but the fact that Eric wants him to ask, knowing that, means a whole lot.

"I think I will, someday," he says when he eases out of the kiss, keeping their lips close. "I suppose we should be boyfriends longer than a few hours first," he adds with a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, maybe," I laugh softly. I rub my nose against his since he's so close and I still can't stop smiling.

"You want to take a shower? Get cleaned up? I want a cigarette...and I could eat, too..." I say then. It's not that I don't want to lay in bed, because I kind of love this, but, man, I could really use a cigarette.

"A shower sounds good," Lee replies. "And food, but you made the wrong choice bringing us to my house," he adds with a laugh. "My kitchen is pretty empty. Pretty much all the time."

"We can order a pizza," I say. "I've got cash. Pizza with, like, all the veggies? Or do hate mushrooms or some shit?" I tease. I slowly, slowly pull away and stand and my ass is so sore in the most perfect way. Like I can still feel him slamming into me. Fucking perfect. Just feeling it makes my dick twitch and swell a little.

Lee groans in disappointment when Eric moves away from him, then again when he sits, his back and legs sore, his asshole stinging and swollen. He closes his eyes and rolls his shoulders back, squeezing down around the feeling, savoring the ache, the memory of Eric inside him.

"I like any and all vegetables," he says when he opens his eyes, looking at Eric's naked body and feeling the first little tendrils of arousal reaching up his spine. "Especially on pizza," he adds with an easy grin.

"Cool. You want to shower alone? Or, um...together?" I ask, just a little hopeful he'll say together because I really kind of want to stay close. I feel like I just want to drape myself over him and never stop touching.