lee_fallon | PSL - The Wedding Night

It's late by the time they get home, after dark, a little tipsy from the wine they drank at Semele's but not so much so that Eric couldn't drive. They walk to their door and Lee, who's had a bit more wine than Eric because of the afore mentioned driving, is itching to touch his brand new husband, his hands wrapping around Eric's middle as Eric works to unlock the door, head falling to kiss the side of Eric's neck.

He know he's hindering the progress of the door being opened, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to stop touching, stop kissing, and so he keeps mouthing at Eric's pulse point, one hand dragging up Eric's shirt in the front to palm his belly.

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It isn’t at all what Lee’s expecting, and it’s raw and scary enough that it steals the air from Lee’s lungs, makes his chest physically hurt. Lee’s been dying for over a decade, though it wasn’t a sure thing until a few years ago, and it’s made him occasionally reckless, but he’s never thought about ending his own life. Even the prospect of the unbearable pain that comes with what’s ultimately going to kill him, his liver or his lungs failing, hasn’t made him consider cutting things prematurely short.

“What happens when I’m gone?” he hears himself say, and it’s not where he thought he’d go first, but he’s suddenly very terrified that, by being here, but falling in love with Eric, he’s going to have a hand in Eric’s eventual suicide. He doesn’t go on, doesn’t push the issue, just shifts so he can lay back and pull Eric against him, cradle Eric against his chest.

“You don’t have to live for me,” Lee tells Eric, his hands on Eric’s back, the back of his neck. “You don’t have to promise me anything. But there’s a lot to live for, always."

"I don't want to think about it," I say, just a little too fast maybe. I don't want to think about what happens when he dies. We have now and that's what's important to me. Now. Not tomorrow, not when he starts chemo, not when he gets sicker. Now.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Lee, I never should have told you that. I'm a mess. I'm such a mess. You're going to figure that out so I might as well just tell you. And I'm sorry. But...I don't want to talk about dying. Not on our wedding night. Tomorrow or something, but not now. Just...just kiss me. Make me shut up," I plead.

Lee shakes his head, because everyone is fucked up in their own way, everyone has damage and baggage and dark places they don’t show most people. Lee’s had a pretty good life outside his cancer and the things that have come with it, but he has broken things inside him too. Eric’s young, and he’s been through a lot, losing his parents, being so utterly mistreated by someone who pretends to be his friend, but Lee can’t go back in time and fix those things. All he can do is be here for Eric now, and keep working on finding a way to make that happen for as long as possible.

“You should tell me everything,” Lee says, holding Eric’s face up with one hand, staring into his eyes. “Not right now, not tonight, but I want to know everything, Eric. I want to know you, good things and bad things. I’m in love with you, all of you, okay?” he says, his voice strong and genuine. He leans in then and kisses Eric hard, pouring all of that love into it, returning all the support and optimism that Eric has given him into the gesture, warm and passionate.

I can feel it in his kiss, just how much he loves me. That he accepts me, bumps and bruises and all. That whatever my damage is, he accepts it and he's not going to judge me or hate me or leave me. We're in this together and I'd known that but in this moment, in this kiss, I really know it. I wrap my arms around him and pull him down to the bed, shifting so I can lay half on top of him and pour all my fear out and let him fill me with love and positive energy.

I'm so fucked up. I try to not be. I try to be positive, and I'm a god person. I'm kind and generous, I have a smile for everyone and I'm willing to let people in. But there's something black and rotten inside me. My parents' deaths really fucked me up and I'm still not okay. Sometimes I can be so hateful, so spiteful. Sometimes I'm shitty for no reason. Sometimes I drink too much and get too high. I mean, shit, even with Lee- that first night what did I do? I took a total stranger to smoke a bowl. If we hadn't fallen in love so fast and so hard that night would have been another tragic chapter in the depressing story of my life.

Instead, I, like, won the fucking lottery. Jackpot winner. I have Lee and right now he's kissing me and all that shit, all the pain and rot means nothing when he's kissing me like this. I feel good and whole. I feel light. Right.

"I love you," I whisper between kisses. "I love you so much, Mr. Preston..."

Lee can’t help the little sob that works its way out of him when Eric calls him Mr. Preston, still caught by what it all means, that they went out today and got married, that they’re bound together on a level they’ll never be with anyone else again. Lee wants this, refuses to let it go, doesn’t want to spend a second of the rest of his life without Eric by his side. It’s crazy and fast, but the feelings are real and deep, and they’ve only gotten stronger from that first night. Lee’s had a lot of one night stands, a lot of sex with random strangers, but this was never that. Even if they’d only had sex that one time, there was a connection, one they both felt. It was important and good, and Lee’s so glad he and Eric are here now, together, not giving a shit what anyone else says. It’s no one’s business but their own.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Lee pants against Eric’s mouth, holding Eric close against him, their hearts racing side by side. They kiss and kiss, and it’s passionate and deep and full of meaning. Lee would be more than happy to just stay here forever, holding Eric, kissing him, shutting out the world outside.

I whimper softly into the kisses, my fingers clutching at him to pull him close. I need him and that realization hits me like a truck. I need him like air now and that I need him so much scares me. Not enough to scare me off, but enough to make me realize maybe we should...I don't know. There's no slowing down or going back. Maybe we should figure out how to turn the flame of boiling, though.

And then the kisses don't stop and my worries and fears fuzz out and my mind clouds over and need becomes want and I want him so much it makes me ache. My dick throbs back to life and my balls instantly are sore from being put off before. I squirm close against him and begin to rut, kissing him harder, wordlessly seeking more. I want him so much. I want him and I know there's not a reason in the world I can't have him.

The heat between them shifts, and it happens so easily and organically that Lee can’t even pinpoint when it happened, when it went from a heated emotional need to a burning physical want. All Lee knows is that Eric is hard, achingly so, his cock thick and insistent against Lee’s hip, and Lee hauls Eric over, pulling him between Lee’s thighs. Lee bends his knees, bracketing Eric’s pelvis, giving Eric silent permission to take whatever he wants. There’s no need for Eric to ask because every part of Lee belongs to Eric, every inch of his body, every corner of his heart.

Lee’s fingers twine in Eric’s hair, holding his mouth close, their kisses rough and wet and deep. This is everything, it’s all Lee wants, and he feels like it’s all Eric wants too, this connection, physical, emotional, spiritual. Lee isn’t going to let anything come between them, is even going to fight against death, because he wants a fucking life with this man, he wants happily ever after. He knows it won’t always be smooth, but he’s going to try as hard as he can to get close.

God, how am I so lucky? He knows exactly what I need exactly when I need it. I nestle in against him and rut slowly, the head of my dick nudging at his balls. I can't stop kissing him so I can't really grab for the lube, but that's okay because kissing him is like heaven. I could kiss him forever and be happy. I do have a thought that maybe he knows where it is so I ask into his mouth, "Lube?"

My hands roam his body and I brace on one elbow and hang onto his shoulder. We always wind up here, naked and needy. I've never had such unbelievably mind-blowing sex in my life. It's like my whole life I didn't know how good it could be and now that I do know I want it all the fucking time.

Lee nods, humming into Eric’s mouth, and he reaches around with his left hand until he finds the bottle of lube he discarded earlier, his hand closing around it and just holding it for a moment, arching and shifting against Eric’s grinding. After a breath, Lee moves to hand the lube over to Eric, so ready for Eric to lose himself in Lee, for them to fall into each other again. It’s sex and it’s hard and deep and hot and physical, but it’s something else between the two of them. It’s transcendent, and Lee hasn’t ever felt like this with anyone else. He knows Eric is the only one he’ll ever feel this way about, no matter how long he lives.

Laying back, he looks up at Eric over him, thinking about their first night together, how quickly he realized he had feelings, how easy it was to just fall into this. He feels the same way tonight as he did that night, but he knows now what he felt was love, and now he and Eric are devoted to each other. He doesn’t have to worry about someone coming between them because there’s no one who could.

I take the lube and hold it, kissing him the whole time. I notice as my cock throbs with anticipation, so does my ass. He fucks me so good. I love how I feel him for so long afterward. I love the ache the next day that hurts just right and makes me flash back to having him in me. Part of me wonders if he feels the same. If he sits just right and feels the ghost of my dick sinking into him. I love feeling that.

I kiss him until I'm breathless, rut against him until I can't stand it anymore, and then I squeeze the lube to slick my cock. I give him the hastiest fucking prep, slicking him and fingering him a little but nowhere near enough to loosen him up. And then I'm guiding myself in, pushing past the resistance. I know it'll burn, I know it'll ache, and I want it to. I want to plant my cock like a fucking flag and claim his ass in the name of Preston, making him mine. My lover, my husband, my man alone out of all the men in the universe. I want him to feel me and be present for this. No drifting off thinking of any worries or anything mundane. I want him to feel my cock, look into my eyes and see me and I want him to know he belongs to me. And, more than that, I want him to know I belong to him.

"That good?" I ask. "You like that? You like my cock in you, baby? I'm going to fuck you so good. I'm gonna fuck you so good every fucking day from now til forever. You're mine. My husband. This is my ass. I'm all yours, too, Lee. Us, together, against the whole fucking world. Say your mine. Tell me you're all mine," I ramble as I fuck into him, deeper with every push.

Lee doesn't know if Eric's sudden desperation comes from the topic they'd just been discussing or all the kissing, but Lee loves it either way, seeing Eric giving in to his raw emotions. Eric's fingers inside him are a little careless, a little rough, and definitely hurried, and it all just turns Lee on all that much more. When Eric shifts to push his dick inside, Lee groans at the feeling of being forced open like this, everything slick but too tight. The muscles at the rim burn as Eric's wide cock stretches them wide, and Lee's eyes roll back at the sensation, relishing the pain, the idea that he'll feel this tomorrow and maybe the day after and he'll remember this moment, that this is the last cock he'll ever have inside him for the rest of his life.

Eric's young but he fucks like someone who's been doing it for a long time, someone who knows what he's doing. Lee has no idea how many people Eric's been inside like this, though he has a feeling it might only be one, the man Eric used to share this very bed with. When Lee first moved in they'd done just a little bit of redecorating, mostly replacing the sheets and bed set, something new that was only theirs together. There are plans for more once Lee is through with chemo, new furniture and artwork, maybe some paint, but for now Lee is so grateful that they're consummating their marriage on sheets that have only ever been beneath them.

It takes longer than usual for Eric to get all the way inside, several firm thrusts until Lee's body releases and Eric bottoms out with a moan. He starts thrusting immediately, hard and fast, bucking with so much fervor that it's bordering on rhythmless and wild. It feels so good to be wanted like this, to be taken, and Lee stares up at Eric's face, his own eyes wide and dark with pleasure. "Yes, yes, fuck, I like it, I fucking love it," he pants as he tries to reply to Eric's questions. "I'm yours, I'm all yours, Eric, always, always," he gasps, pressing his legs wider and lifting them to give Eric even more space to fuck into him. "I'm only yours, and you, you're mine, you're mine," he goes on, pressing his head back into the pillows as he tilts his hips to feel Eric even deeper inside.

He's mine. All mine. I don't know why I'm so fucking possessive about him, but I am. I want this. I want him to be only mine, all mine. My husband. Mine. I feel like a greedy child who's grabbed him up and I won't let go. I'll never let go. And if anyone tries to take him from me they're going to have one hell of a fight on their hands. I've never really been scrappy, I'm kind of a pussy, but for this, for him, I'll throw down.

"Oh, God," I exhale, kissing him all wet and sloppy as my hips drive in. "You're so good. Baby. Lee. Philippe. I love you. Mine," I say, just babbling shit like that over and over. Every word's a breathy exhale. I reach up with my left hand and grab his wrist and pin him to the bed. I'd do it with both but I need my right hand to hold on to the bed so I don't fucking lose all control and fall away. The bed shakes with every thrust. He fucked me so good, so sweet and so slow. I wish I could give him that but I'm desperate. Needy.

I'm a fucking mess.

"Love you. I love you," I pant between kisses, chasing the threat of my orgasm that seems like it's just over the edge and I can't quite reach it.

Lee whimpers when Eric calls him his full name, and he realizes that Eric’s the only one to call him that during sex, and it catches something inside him, a deep revelation that Eric knows him better than anyone else has before despite the fact that they’ve only been together a month and a half. And this is why it doesn’t feel all that crazy they got married so quickly, because they know so much already, they know each other’s hearts.

Lee moans when Eric moves to pin him to the bed, and Lee loves this, how dominant Eric can be, how Eric can fall right into this. Lee cants his pelvis until he finds an angle where Eric’s cock brushes his prostate, and he’s not tying to find his own orgasm again, but he knows the way his voice changes when he’s stimulated that way, and he moans deeply with each powerful thrust, crying out in a way that makes him glad they’re not in Lee’s apartment. “Take me, baby, take me apart,” he pants, winding the fingers of his free hand into Eric’s hair, tugging just a little. “Fill me up, Eric, please,” he begs. “I want to be full of you, I want to feel you spilling out,” he goes on, breathless, desperate. “Show me I’m yours, make your mark on me, leave your mark on me."

I can't quite reach his neck but I can leave a mark. I find a spot just below his collar bone, lower than his collar, and I suck a kiss there. I suck hard and my teeth press in and I make certain he's left with a livid mark. Mine. I leave one mark, then I move a little and leave another, just to give him a pair.

God, he feels so good. I love how he moves with me. I love how he moves to take what he wants even when he's held to the bed. I don't want some fuckin' pillow princess. I've never wanted someone who wanted me to be in charge all the time. Lee's perfect because we have this balance. Equals. I have the ability to be weak, to be strong, we can make love, we can fuck like fiends, we can just screw around and laugh and kiss through juvenile hand jobs. Whatever, it doesn't matter. It's always good with him and I never feel like what I want- or don't want- is wrong.

So I move to the other side to leave a third mark and I can feel my release tightening my balls and burning in my groin. I love the sensation right there when it begins to build, when it's obvious it's going to be unavoidable. I love thrusting and building and getting closer and closer...

"I'm gonna come," I say, kind of whining through gritted teeth. I have my forehead pressed to his chest and my hips are drivign in and in, deeper, in, harder...like I don't even know what rhythm is anymore as I chase the edge.

Lee groans when Eric leans down and sucks hard against his skin, and he doesn’t lift his head to look now, but he knows he’ll have a bright red mark there when he sees his chest later. And then Eric gives him another one, and he knows why he’s making them low, but Lee sort of wishes he wasn’t. He wants everyone in the world to know he’s taken, that he belongs to someone, to Eric. The biting feeling of the sucking kisses against his chest and the pound of Eric’s hips against him drive Lee to the pure point of pleasure, enough that his cock starts to get hard again, his entire body, his entire being, aching for Eric. The hand in Eric’s hair tightens and he grunts as he moves against Eric’s thrusts, now entirely to send Eric over, to bring Eric to the pinnacle.

And then Eric’s thrusts being to falter, getting fast and erratic, hips punching into Lee’s body so hard it’s knocking the breath out of both of them. Eric tells Lee he’s coming and Lee begs for it, chanting “yes yes yes, please yes, please yes” as he watches Eric’s body move, feels Eric’s thrusts through his entire frame, feeling raw and completely fucked out but wanting more, wanting Eric’s come to flood into him, to hear the sound of it, the sound of Eric’s voice as he climaxes.

I warn him and it's literally like ten seconds more before I lose all control. I'm driving into him, nearly shoving him away up the bed. But when I lose it I'm balls deep in him and I pulse my release and shake like a fucking spastic. The grunting and crying out isn't even human and it would be laughable if I had the sense to laugh. I'm too fucking gone, though. I fill him with my hot load and sink down onto him, spent and boneless. I try to kiss him but really I'm just mouthing him, gasping for breath as the dizziness overwhelms me and then begins to ebb.

"Fuck, I love you," I drawl, too fucking drained to keep from slurring my words. I love him. He's amazing. He's perfect. Like, I don't know how I can love him more every passing day, every time we screw, every time I see him after not seeing him all day. How can this just keep growing? I'm not complaining. Not at all. It just makes me wonder, you know, if there's a limit or if my capacity for love is infinite and I'm just going to love him by increasing degrees every single day.

Eric explodes apart when he comes, that's the only way Lee can describe it, the sounds coming from him the verbal embodiment of everything he feels, his love and desire for Lee, his desperation, his hopes and his fears, how overwhelming and amazing and perfect this all his, that they met like this, that they fell in love so fast and so hard. Lee can feel it too, in the way Eric moves, the expression twisted on his face, and it's not something Lee will ever forget, the way this feels, the way Eric looks, how he sounds.

Wrung out, Eric practically collapses, ducking his head and kissing the edge of Lee's mouth wetly, loosely, like he doesn't have the energy even for that. Lee's hand shifts down to the back of Eric's neck, stroking the sweat damp skin, soothing him as their heartbeats race together. Lee turns his head to kiss at Eric's temple, and he can feel Eric going flaccid inside him, the wetness of Eric's come starting to leak from him already, and he loves it so much, he loves Eric so much he can barely stand it.

"I love you too," he says, holding Eric close against him with both arms around him. "I love you so much, Eric, so much."

I'm fucking dead. Not really, and I probably shouldn't say that- not with the threat of actual death hanging over us. But you know what I mean. It takes me some time to get my breathing and my heartbeat back to normal and it's hard to be coordinated at all. I snuggle in close and hold him and lay down lazy kisses, smiling as I do.

"We're married," I tell him, like he doesn't fucking know. Like he needs to be reminded. Or maybe I need to be reminded. I don't know. "God, you make me so fucking happy. You're the most wonderful, beautiful, amazing man I've ever met. And you're all mine..."

Lee can't help laughing, but it's joyful and breathless. He's not sure he's ever been this truly happy in his entire life, and as much as he hates the idea of putting Eric through watching him get progressively sicker, in this moment he can't help but be glad he let Eric buy him that glass of wine and take him out to the freezing beach. It wasn't just that Eric was there, that they clicked so quickly and so easily, but also Eric's outlook, his insistence that Lee shouldn't just roll over and die. He hopes so dearly that he'll be able to give Eric more than a few months, that Kavinsky will come through for him and they'll have years together. Because Eric deserves to be loved to eternity, and Lee wants at least some of that to be by him.

"It feels perfect," Lee agrees, holding Eric against him, soft and warm and tender. "I'm so glad you wanted this, marriage," he goes on. "Not that I wouldn't have stayed with you no matter what, but I didn't think I'd get to do this. And definitely not with someone who fits with me the way you do."

I turn my head just enough to kiss him, eyes closed and concentrating just on the luxurious sweetness that is his mouth for that long moment.

"I'm glad you said yes," I tell him quietly. It seems like a quiet kind of confession. "No one's ever loved me the way you love me. I want every day with you to be like this. Like...perfect."

"I can't imagine not loving you," Lee admits, and it's hard to remember what it was like to look at Eric and not feel love for him, to not see the person who holds Lee's heart. "I can't promise it's always going to be easy," Lee says, lifting his hand to cup Eric's cheek, "but I won't ever stop loving you."

He takes a breath, staring into Eric's eyes, memorizing the way they look in this moment. "I'm going to give you my best every day until the end," he tells Eric, his heart on his sleeve. "Whether that's months or years away. I'm going to do everything I can to make you happy."

"I'm going to hold you to that," I say softly, looking at him intently as love wells up in me. I can't believe this is my life. I can't believe I'm so lucky. And I can't believe how easy it is for me to disregard the cancer, even when Lee brings it up like that. Months. No, I can't imagine only having him for a few months. I refuse to believe the chemo will fail. Refuse.

"You better," Lee replies, pulling Eric in close again, shifting and rearranging until they're laying more comfortably against each other. They could use a shower, but Lee doesn't want to move, wants to stay here all night -- their wedding night -- with Eric in his arms.

"I don't want to ever let you go," he says softly, his nose and mouth buried in the soft, damp hair across Eric's forehead.

"Never do," I say softly, holding him tight as I can. "And I never will either. I promise. I love you. I love you so much."

"I swear, I'm going to do everything I can to stay with you forever," Lee admits, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of Eric against him. "I'll do anything, Eric. Anything that might help."