Chapter Text
Lee almost says no to the invitation for drinks, despite the fact that the get-together is ostensibly in his honor; he changes his mind at the very last minute. He's been so deep in dying for so long that emerging from it feels as foreign and disorienting as emerging into sunlight after a long stint in the dark. Like grief, relief seems to have several stages too. His friends mean well. He knows this. And so he goes.
Cathy has made it, along with a few of his other C-club inmates, still at varying stages in their own sentences. He drinks a little more than he meant to, but it's easy to remedy with food; he's been enjoying padding out again where he'd gotten sickly thin at his worst. Cathy teases him a little when she sees the rare fold of softness on his stomach, and he shrugs.
"Guess I'd better spring for a new gym membership too."
"Running not cutting it for you now there's nothing to run from?" She sips her own drink, expression warm and sharp at once.
"I still like it," he corrects. "I'd just rather add to the repertoire."
"Nothing wrong with that," she shrugs, "just don't push yourself."
"I'll be careful," he soothes. "Guess I've got to now."
She just gives him one of her gentle smiles and touches his hand. Later, she waves over one of their friends and says sweetly, "Bill, didn't you tell me the other day that your brother got a job at a new gym near here?"
"Yeah, it's a pretty nice place actually, it's all franchised by the brand of that boxer, whatever his name is." Billy shrugs. "Something Greek."
Cathy and Lee look at one another and shrug in unison. "Is it expensive?" Cathy asks. "Our Lee wants to become a gym rat."
"There's introductory rates at the minute, and you can get a free trial visit. I could get you a code if you want, Lee. It's close to your place."
Lee smiles and sips his wine. "Sure, Billy."
They move onto another bar where the drinks are cheaper, losing a couple of their party along the way to various excuses. Lee is drunk by this point – he’s not drank so much the last year or so - but gamely hanging on through the swoops of the room; the music and the lights around him. Eventually it's Cathy who pulls him toward where she's parked: as the designated driver she only had one drink, and that was hours ago by now.
She deposits him on the doorstep of his building with a hug and a kiss and shoves him gently toward the door, where he sits on his sofa and promptly falls asleep.
*
He wakes the next day with a hangover and a stiff neck. Compared to the medicinal hangovers he'd gotten used to, this is a piece of cake. He takes a strange pleasure in this small, manageable unwellness as he showers and puts in his laundry. By the late afternoon he's well enough to start puttering around his apartment, cleaning up and noting places where he'd like to repaint or add some decoration. He's given a number of things away over the past few years, and it has given him pleasure to do so, but now he is realizing he can indulge again. Or at least stop boxing himself up before he's in the ground. He sighs at the thought and spends a while window shopping online as he eats handfuls of dry cereal, before finally succumbing to the need to go out and exercise.
He slips in a pair of earbuds and lets himself jog along with the beat of the music, contemplating Billy's gym suggestion. He's not in bad nick, but he could do with regaining some of the muscle he lost way back when. He hates lifting, but he could deal with it as long as he didn't have anyone nagging at him. Besides which, there's always some good eye candy, and if he's going to shell out for the privilege of clanking some machines around, he might as well enjoy himself.
After his run, he texts Billy to ask if his offer for a code still stands, though he expects it will: Billy has a soft spot for him. His phone beeps with a reply within about fifteen minutes, and he navigates over to the gym's website and signs up before he can change his mind.
He gets the confirmation email for his introduction tour shortly after, for a few days' time.
It's easy to fill the time - he has so many loose ends to pick back up. He paints his bedroom- which uses a lot more muscles than he thought it would - and gets a new rug. He needs to start thinking about a job, his savings won't last forever, but he's not going to let himself worry about it just yet. If it comes to it, he's still got a number of contacts in the wine business.
His final act of self indulgence is to buy a new sofa off eBay: his current model is sagging and threadbare, and it reminds him all too much of being sick.
*
On the day of his gym tour, he leaves a little earlier than he needs and jogs the block to warm up before he walks the rest of the journey, trying to decide why he’s putting it off. Maybe he's a little nervous - nervous to push himself and nervous to be surrounded by people who invariably know the drill already. Maybe there’s Cathy’s voice reminding him not to push himself, and maybe, just maybe, he’s stung with residual doubt from that last appointment: Mister Fallon, I’m honored and astounded to say you are cancer free.
When he checks in, he finds he's been assigned to Bill's brother, he smiles. He looks like Bill, but much younger and prettier. Lee can definitely handle a little nervousness for that.
He's also incredibly enthusiastic. Lee has been accused of such things himself on occasion, so for a while that's just fine. They go through the facility together and work out a training program before he's left to his own devices. Despite being relieved not to be watched anymore, he still feels a little conspicuous. His usual zen energy has dissipated a little over recent weeks- not putting it all into being calm has left an excess of it. Apparently redecorating hasn't helped as much as it might have.
He sighs at the thought and steps onto the crossfit machine. That...helps. Refocusing and breathing and letting his body move without his conscious control – this is as natural as breathing. He rows for a while, and finishes with stretches, then decides at a tweak in his shoulder that he’s done for the day.
On the way out of the equipment room, he smiles at Billy's cute brother, accepting a card key for next time. Billy's cute brother smiles back, with teeth. You're not my type, Lee thinks, winking at him and sauntering out the door.
He warms down with another gentle jog on the way home, and he feels pleasantly heavy when he gets home.
He barely looks around his apartment before he collapses onto his bed. Mind empty, he spends a while with a new book Cathy bought him, music playing softly in the background, and then he gets up to shower: there’s a little more painting to be done.
*
He heads back down to the gym the next day to stave off muscle ache. His phone rings while he's there, and when he sees it's the new manager of the bar he owned back in New Orleans, he takes the call outside to the portico.
"Hey Sienna, how's it going?"
"Lee, cher, I just got the contract your lawyer faxed. Are you sure you still want to go through with the sale?"
"Well, it doesn't seem right to back out on a deal just because I backed out on dying."
"And I'm happy to buy, but - Minneapolis, Lee, are you crazy? The snow -"
"People still drink wine in snow. They need it more," Lee laughs.
She snorts. He can practically see her twirling a braid around her finger. "I'm not visiting."
"I don't believe you. You'll want to come check out the new place and sneer at my decor."
"Which will be gorgeous because you're you, cher. Don't worry. We'll still show you up down here in NOLA."
"I'm counting on it. I've gotta have some claim to fame."
She snorts again. "Talk to you soon, Lee."
"Take care, my love." He hangs up and finally goes inside.
He goes to lift weights this time, real ones as opposed to the machines. He eases into it and is relieved when it's not as awful as it could be. A stacked ginger even calls him over to spot for him for a few minutes and Lee smilingly complies. Least of all because the ginger has a back like a mountain face. Lee might be drooling a little. He's thankfully got a good poker face, and his good-natured leering goes unnoticed. Back on his own weights, he does another few sets and then stops to touch the back of his shoulder where a surgery scar holds tension.
Time to switch to legs.
He's stretching when he catches sight of another guy, misted with sweat as he destroys a bench press. He says a few very quiet, un-Buddhist curses under his breath. The guy is just about everything Lee has ever looked for in a man and then some, densely muscled, long haired, with silver chest hair visible at the neck of his vest. He's sweating it through while his shorts struggle to hold onto his thighs, and Lee briefly thanks whoever has blessed this gym visit before he picks a bike where he can still keep one eye on the god currently adding plates to his bar.
He mostly keeps to concentrating on music and cycling, but occasionally his attention drifts. "Guess I'll be back tomorrow," he hums to himself as he wipes his equipment down.
He showers off his efforts when he's done, scrubbing a hand over his scalp before soaping up. He's still not used to how his hair has grown back in. He keeps it short, he always did, but now it doesn't look quite as clipped and thin. He thinks he actually cleans up pretty nice these days, no one seems to have any complaints anyway. Not that he tends to stick around to hear them. Cathy nags him constantly about it.
"Things don't have to be temporary anymore," she says, like Lee was ever any good at permanent. Twelve years is a long time to get out of practice.
He sighs at the thought and turns off the water, wrapping his towel around his waist. As he emerges from the showers, the bench press guy goes in past him, tendrils of his long hair tacked to his cheeks and forehead, chest still heaving. His hair... Lee hadn't really noticed just how long it was before, twisted into braids and a long ponytail. It's gorgeous. He has to make himself not stare.
Before he manages though, the stranger catches his eye, then looks away again. He looks like he's smiling. Lee keeps walking.
*
Late night gym sessions, Lee has decided, are definitely more his thing. He's always been a night owl anyway, even before the bar, and he likes it when it's less crowded. And tall, long-haired and beefy seems to work out at night too, so it works well with Lee's new routine of nightly gawping sessions. In the day, he's been managing the procuring of a new bar site, which is more stressful than he remembers it being last time, and then he gets to come and unwind.
He walks by to refill his water bottle just as the Viking adjusts his weights yet again.
Lee quirks his chin. "I'd offer to spot you if I had any hope of not dropping that," he smiles as he sidles by, getting a look over for his trouble.
"I'm sure you're stronger than you look."
Lee dimples. "Not necessarily."
The guy has an accent, and a neat, short beard with shots of silver through the sides. Lee tries not to think about it too closely.
"I saw you lifting before, not exactly on Q-tips yourself," the guy says.
Lee shrugs. "Felt good at the time. I'm sure I'll regret it tomorrow."
That slight smile again, like he doesn't do it much. Lee takes the opportunity to add, daringly, "You were watching, then?"
Another smile, bigger this time. "I might have been. I figured I was owed some checking out after the amount of times I’ve felt eyes on the back of my head this week."
That makes Lee laugh, startled into blushing. "Just on the back of your head?"
"Well, not just my head, I was trying to be polite."
"No need, darling, I like it scandalous." Lee winks.
The guy bites his lip on his next grin, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "I’ll bear that in mind." After a moment, he sets his bar back in place and Lee shuffles.
"I'm Lee, by the way."
"Draco," he replies. "A pleasure."
"Pleasure's all mine." Lee purrs. He hesitates a moment longer and then tilts his head. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around."
Draco nods. "I'm sure you will."
There’s that tiny, promising lift to his voice that tugs at the bottom of Lee’s belly. Trying to contain his grin, Lee goes to shower up. He deliberately doesn't think about the hot Viking while he soaps up, or rinses off, or dries.
As he heads out, he sees Draco again in reception and they exchange wan smiles again. I'd bang you like a screen door, he thinks at the man, just in case he's psychic.
Draco glances up at him where he's scribbling forms at the desk and shows him another lazy little grin. Lee bolts just in case.
When he gets home, he tosses his gym bag down next to the couch and collapses onto his bed again. He calls Cathy, because no one else appreciates his nuanced tastes in men.
She answers right away despite the hour, and immediately he feels bad. "Lee?"
"Hi, sorry it's - nothing's wrong."
"I'm glad. I'm in bed but I'm still awake. What's up?"
"I was calling to be filthy about a guy at the gym."
"Oh, please, go right ahead."
"He has a braid."
"Oh, how filthy," she says dryly.
"It will be when I'm holding onto it while he rails me."
"Yes, I can see that," she replies faintly. "When is this happy occasion going to occur?"
"Hopefully soon."
"Any other relevant information about Mr. Braid?"
"Handsome. Tanned. Built like a fucking wrestler. He's got all these tattoos, the usual."
"Well, okay, that all does sound relevant."
"It's very relevant. To my interests at least." He hears murmuring on the other end of the line, a deeper voice, Cathy answering back. "Is that Paul?"
"Yeah, he just came in, I filled him in on Mr. Braid."
"You should hit that," Lee hears Paul say from nearer to the phone speaker.
Lee laughs. "I promise I'll do my best."
"Go to bed now," Cathy says.
"You're not my real mom."
"See if I take you to the zoo this weekend now."
"Is that a euphemism?"
"It is now!" Paul calls out.
"Take me to the bear enclosure and leave me there."
Cathy laughs and hangs up on him. Lee smiles at the phone and stretches. Time for wine. And then bed.
*
After a month of astonishingly regular working out, plus visiting business locations, enduring loan meetings, and feeding himself, Lee is feeling like he's more than earned a night out drinking. Though she's usually up for it, especially now that she's in remission too, Cathy counts herself out. Billy obliges him a few drinks but eventually cries off, and so Lee ends up alone at a bar nursing the last of his drink.
"I need more friends," he grumbles. Then he rallies a bit. "I've got time to make some." He signals to the bartender for another.
He's distracted from his new drink by a slight ruckus at the door; a bunch of burly dudes coming in- presumably from another bar. Well, they've certainly got his attention. Bringing up the rear is none other than Draco from the gym, hair secured in a knot at the base of his neck, wisps of silvering hair hanging in his eyes.
"Gods preserve me," Lee mutters. He takes a big sip of his wine. Unfortunately, he's already drunk. Even more unfortunately, he's never been able to resist going over to a group of burly men. He waits for an opening, which is easy enough because one of Draco's friends is ordering a round, a few beers and various shorts.
"I'll help carry," Lee jumps in, showing teeth in a smile.
"Oh, thanks man," the guy says, looking faintly bemused.
Lee just follows along behind him - he's got a one in four chance that the beer he's carrying is Draco's after all.
At the sight of him, Draco actually cracks a smile.
"Working on your arm curls, Lee?" he says.
"Something along those lines." He glances at the beer he's holding. "I can't pronounce this brand, but is it yours by chance?"
"A safe assumption. It’s non-alcoholic."
"How disappointing for you."
"You’re right. Do you have a drink, Lee?"
Lee glances at the wine glass in his other hand. "Part of one."
"You look like you've had parts of others, too."`
Lee looks himself over exaggeratedly. "How can you tell?"
"It might be the swaying. Come sit with us, unless you're here with friends-?"
"I was left to my own devices."
"That accounts for the swaying, I suppose." Draco makes space in the booth for him and Lee finds himself entirely unable to stifle his delight at being crushed in amongst the muscle. A couple of them notice, but as Draco introduces him around to them, they don't seem to mind.
"Very nice to meet you all," he says blithely, "I was rather lamenting not being surrounded by attractive men."
The oldest one laughs. The two young ones - both visibly drunk - look mostly confused. And Draco... "Happy to oblige," he tells Lee with a smile.
Lee studies him over the rim of his wineglass. "Big of you."
"I'm a big guy."
"Oh, that I know." Now he's studying Lee in turn. "I'm not particularly," Lee surmises for him, "but I make up for it in lots of ways."
"I'm sure."
"Are you sure you're sure? I can allay any uncertainties."
A few disbelieving chuckles around them. Draco shakes his head. "You're very drunk, my friend."
Lee glances at the young ones, Percy and... well, something with an E, he doesn't particularly care. "It's nearly last call, shouldn't we all be?"
"Most of us are," says one - Lee remembers Draco introduced him as "Ix", which is just weird enough for him to hold onto. Lee toasts him with the last few swallows of his wine. The movement sends his balance off, and Draco's hands steady him.
"Lee, if you don't mind me saying, I think it might be time you went home," he chuckles.
"It is undoubtedly time I went home," Lee replies, "you must be a very clever man."
Draco stands, taking his arm in one big hand and easing him to his feet. "I’m a very sober man, come on, I'll take you home." A couple of his friends look amused by that. "Control yourselves," Draco tells them.
Lee is more than happy to let him guide him out from behind the tables and toward the door.
"How did you get here?" he murmurs to Lee. "Did you drive?"
Lee shakes his head. "Cab. Can take one home too."
"No. My truck is around the corner, let me drive you."
"If you insist." Lee lets Draco lead him over to a big, black pickup and help him in. He runs his hand up Draco's arm when he does it, because it's right there and he is merely a mortal man.
Draco actually laughs. "Forward, aren't you?"
"Better than backward. Do you mind?"
"No, I don’t mind." Draco smirks. "Buckle in, Lee."
Lee does, relaxing back in his seat with a sigh as Draco gets in the other side. He gives Draco his address when asked, but the comfortable seats and low rumble of the engine are lulling him to silence.
"I didn't realize how close by you lived," Draco comments softly, "small world."
"Yeah, I usually run to the gym," Lee murmurs.
"I think I've seen you. Here and there."
"I'd remember if I'd seen you."
"I never leave the gym," Draco jokes.
"Except for tonight," Lee points out.
"Percy's birthday. He's a friend from back in the day."
"He won't mind that you left?" Percy was one of the drunker ones, Lee knows.
"I'll go back."
Lee sighs. "And here I was hoping I could talk you into staying."
"That's flattering, but I like my partners able to keep their eyes open."
"I'm going to choose not to take that as an outright rejection," Lee says. His eyes are in fact closed at the moment, but he opens them to look over at Draco.
"Let's talk about it when one of us isn't about to fall asleep." He's lit by the passing streetlights, bars of orange and blue moving over his skin like water. It makes Lee feel dizzy, so he closes his eyes again.
He feels when the pickup comes to a stop. Draco gets out and goes to his door to help him into his building. Lee considers protesting. But Draco's arm is around his waist and honestly, he's not above feigning a little helplessness every now and then.
He leads them to his door and then pauses, studying his tanned face, his astonishingly sculpted cheekbones. "Sure you don't want to come in?" he says, with a bright grin.
"Want to? Yes," Draco repeats.
Lee bites his lip. He reaches out and smoothes his shirt a little. "I'm feeling much steadier on my feet now."
Draco leans in. "I don't believe you, Lee," he murmurs. He smells of beer and bright, warm cologne. Lee breathes it in with a sigh.
"No, fair enough. I'm a terrible liar even sober." He looks up from under his lashes. "Give me a goodnight kiss, then, and save me from total embarrassment."
Draco looks at him closely, and then he lifts his chin with gentle fingers, calluses scratching against Lee's beard. His own beard is soft, but not as soft as his lips when they brush over Lee's.
The compulsion to draw him closer by the shirt is too much to resist. Lee feels unsteady, but Draco feels anything but. He kisses him slow and careful and deep. Lee abruptly wishes he were more sober - sober enough to remember it. But Draco is already pulling back.
"I'll see you soon, Lee."
"Yeah, uh, you too Draco. Goodnight..."
Draco's thumb skims his cheek. He nods. "Good night."
Lee closes himself into his apartment to make himself stop watching Draco walk away. If he weren't quite so drunk, he'd not be quite so content to go to bed untouched. He's too drunk to even touch himself, unfortunately. After chugging some water, he drops himself onto his mattress and looks at the ceiling. It occurs to him, as he drifts off, that he should buy a bed frame.
*
Lee's hangover makes itself known early the next morning. He groans and clutches his head for a minute before he gathers himself enough to go out on some coffee.
He has a text from Billy checking up on him. He texts back a semi-coherent message and gets in the shower. That's when he remembers about Draco. Even with a headache, he smiles to himself.
"I've got you now."
He texts Cathy when he's clean and dry. >>Operation gym bear is go.
<<Tell me more.
>>I may have given him an appetizer last night after bumping into him in a bar.
<<Surprised it was only an appetizer.
>>I may have been incredibly drunk.
<<Hmpf. Well, better luck next time.
>>I'm certainly hoping there's a next time. It had seemed like there might be, Lee thinks, frowning at the thought. He'll certainly encourage one.
He spends the day nursing his hangover and prodding at listings for the wine bar again. He's making progress, though admittedly he's not putting much effort in. He has to take it easy now, he reasons. And he has time. An inordinate amount of time, it seems.
He manages to arrange a couple of viewings and spends the next couple of days in talks with various business owners and realtors. In the meantime, he's also referred to a part time job leading meditation groups at a local community centre by one of the nurses he used to see for treatment. He can always use ways of making his life busy again. In the meantime, also...there's always the gym.
*
He makes his way there after a particularly busy day and takes it easy at first, not wanting to overexert too soon. It's late; and quiet, and it’s just not as easy as it sometimes is.
He doesn't see Draco, which is an even bigger disappointment. Even so, he gets a good workout in, and by the time he's done he's thoroughly ready for a shower and bed. He heads to the locker room, rubbing a small towel over his head and face, hot all over. He grabs his wash bag for the shower; checks his phone for a minute while he gets his breath. Then he hears a shower shut off and sees Draco coming around the corner.
He's still dripping, hair damp in his bun where some strands have caught the water. Lee's mouth does dry at the sight of ink and chest hair. "There you are," he murmurs, half to himself.
Draco pauses, faint smile touching the corner of his mouth. "Here I am. How are you, Lee?"
"Fantastic." He takes in Draco's towel, wrapped tightly around his hips, and his bare legs.
Draco seems to be under no misapprehensions of what he means by that. He looks around. "Have you been looking for me?"
"No," Lee says, because he hasn't, "but I'm glad I found you."
"Are you?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
Draco seems to make a decision. "Show me," he murmurs.
Lee bites his lip. He looks around too. "Here?"
Draco tilts his head back towards the showers. "There."
Lee gives one last covert look around, then tucks his wash bag under his arm and slings his towel over his arm. "All right."
Draco has an absolutely devilish sparkle in his eye; Lee's sense has gone right out the window. He's done much stupider things in much stupider places. His stomach is still a-tumble with butterflies as he opens a shower cubicle, throws down his things, and then strips off his vest. He waits for Draco to reach out, and it only takes a moment. He locks the door behind him as he backs Lee against the wall and kisses him slow.
Lee's moan gets lost between their mouths. The sudden rush of need hits him like a wave. He grips at Draco's arms for balance under its force. The thick muscles under his fingers are druggingly hot.
Draco breaks the kiss to lay more against his throat, answering Lee’s weak noise of need with a faint growl. He's perfect. Lee can't stop passing his hands over the skin of his shoulders; down his chest, running his fingers through rough hair. Draco nips at him and he can't wait any longer, arching their bodies together and signing at Draco's weight.
"Tell me what I can have," he demands.
"You can have what you want," Draco mutters.
"I want you to fuck me right up against the fucking wall," Lee tells him.
Draco wets his lips and then buries his mouth against Lee's throat again, hands roaming over his ribs and hips.
His fingers tuck into Lee's sweats.
"Mm, take them off, Draco."
"I'd love to." He pushes them down past Lee's hips. "No underwear?"
"I travel light."
Draco chuckles, his fingers soothing circles into Lee's skin. "You're gorgeous."
Lee is used to that, but it's always nice to hear. "You're devastating."
He hooks his own fingers in Draco's towel and tugs. The noise he makes at the sight of him is involuntary and a little desperate.
"Fuck, Draco, you're unreal."
"Fortunately not."
Lee wraps a hand around his shaft, filling out steadily, hot and soft. "Guess not." Draco arches into his touch with a low noise and Lee practically purrs. "Let's get you ready, shall we?"
He gives him a bright grin as he sinks down to his knees. He reaches back and rummages through his wash bag for a condom. He keeps stroking, leaning in to kiss his stomach and sighing when Draco's hand cups the back of his skull gently. He deals with the rubber quickly so he can use his mouth.
That gets him a chorus of soft, pleased rumbles. He runs his hands up and down Draco's thighs as he sucks gently.
"Lee," Draco sighs, his other hand finding the tile.
Lee doesn't answer, what with the blowjob, but he does hum a bit. He's gratified with a few slow rocks of Draco's hips that make his throat flicker and his jaw ache in the best way possible. He's big enough to satisfy even Lee, and he's impatient to get to the main event, but this is... this is so good.
When he looks up, Draco is watching him with his eyes hooded with shadow, lit with desire.
"You look good sucking my cock," he murmurs. His teeth dig into his lower lip when Lee eases back to suck with intent at the pink, slick head for a minute before pulling off completely.
"Just imagine how I'll look fucking myself on it."
"Let's find out," Draco rumbles. He takes Lee's hands and pulls him to his feet with barely a breath of effort, turning him around with gentle hands.
"Can I have your fingers first?"
"You can have what you want, I already told you."
Lee feels his hands passing down his back and hips, over his ass, and then he’s circling his hole, teasing in, making him groan.
"Wait- let me-" he pushes him away long enough to retrieve a tube from his wash bag that he passes back to Draco, who immediately resituates his hand.
"Such a boy scout."
"You should have seen my patches." He gasps a little as Draco squeezes cold lube over his finger and twists to spread it, slipping his finger in firm and careful. "I like a man who doesn't fuck around."
"I fuck around plenty, though," Draco murmurs, pressing in farther.
Lee turns his cheek against the tile and arches his hips up for more. He feels Draco's other hand press against his lower back. When the finger inside him circles as he thrusts, Lee makes an undignified little noise of pleasure.
Draco keeps going, not letting him catch his breath. He's sliding in with a second finger in no time, fingers turning experimentally as Lee fists at nothing.
"Fuck, more, come on."
Draco gives him more, enough to send him reeling, opening him up rough and quick. Lee groans and it echoes off the tile, too loud but he doesn't care.
"Draco, I need it now."
His words have an immediate effect. He feels Draco arching against him, breath hot against his shoulder as he slips his fingers free. Then his cock presses and Lee chokes on his breath. Draco's hands are spreading him, but he still goes up on his toes to relieve the stretch a little, jaw dropping in satisfaction. Draco makes a low noise of satisfaction as he sinks in.
"Holy fuck," Lee breathes, "now, move."
"Your wish is my command," Draco snaps his hips.
If Lee had any hope of staying quiet before, it leaves him now. He groans, full-throated. It echoes. Draco immediately clasps a hand over his mouth, but he fucks him harder still. It only makes Lee even hotter for it, squirming back and grappling for purchase, rendered breathless by the thick, raw drag. Draco is rough and unyielding without ever being too much of either. He only seems to like it more when Lee whimpers.
"Okay, now let’s see you fuck yourself on it, like you said," he whispers. The distance opens between them, but Draco keeps his hand firmly over Lee’s mouth as he bridges back onto his cock with a muffled cry.
Nerves electric and sharp with delight, Lee rolls himself back onto his cock, feeling the pressure mount at the base of his own cock with every sheathing slide over Draco’s. He rides the feeling until it gets overwhelming; until his thigh muscles ache and his stomach trembles.
"Lee," his voice comes rough and disbelieving, "that’s perfect."
Draco’s hand covers the quivering muscle then to halt him, steadying as he buries his nose against his nape and thrusts deep and hard until Lee's cock is dripping fluid and his head is spinning. Lee moans against his palm and reaches for himself.
"That's it. Let me feel you come," Draco grits against his hair. He lets out a short, choked noise when the first stroke makes Lee clench up around him.
Lee sighs in answer, feeling light and heavy all at once. It really won't take long. He feels Draco's mouth at his nape. His teeth gently cut in and Lee gasps as the contact completes the circuit and shocks him close, drawing him up tight. He tightens and spills over his fist with a dampened cry.
Draco grips him fiercely and fucks him through it with a snarl, racing the squeeze of his body. Lee moans again and Draco wrenches his head around to kiss him, the next cry bleeding out between their mouths when Draco comes with another sharp jolt of his hips. Lee is pressed against the tiles, crushed under his weight, happy to stay there. It’s perfect, all of it, muscles and fur and gorgeous calloused hands.
Hands that are gliding up over Lee's stomach and ribs very gently now. He holds Lee steady as he slowly pulls out.
"Fuck," Lee hisses, breathing hard still.
Draco kisses him again, lips finding his shoulder. Lee is practically vibrating from the touch, leaning his head back against Draco's shoulder.
"That was great," he murmurs.
"I agree."
"So, I definitely need to shower now. But worth it."
"I may also need another." Draco rubs Lee's shoulders idly. With a hum, he steps back and toes their clothes and towels out of harm's way, stripping off the condom and tossing it into the corner before he turns the water on.
As it turns out, Draco does look as good wet as he does dry. They touch one another lazily until the spray, bending close to kiss slow until Lee grabs his body wash: gym showers aren't renowned for their steady supply of hot water in his experience. Draco washes up too, a bit less thoroughly in his case.
When they're done, Lee can't quite bring himself to turn off the water just yet. He reaches for Draco again. He obliges Lee a few more minutes of long, breathless kisses and wandering hands.
When the water starts threatening the first icy brushes of change, they reluctantly get out of the shower to dry off and gather their things.
Lee pulls his sweats back on and sidles out of the showers, stretching as soon as he's shoved his things in his bag. He feels good, pleasantly achy. As ever, he savors the novelty of pain he knows will pass.
Draco catches him by the hand to talk to him for a moment. "Thanks for finding me. See you around, Lee," he murmurs pleasantly.
The formality makes him smile, faint relief: no exchange of numbers, no awkward dancing around. He nods. "See you around."
Draco lets him go and Lee heads out of the locker room and towards the gym entrance. As he scans his membership card, tightening his jacket around himself, he hears the squeak of rubber on linoleum.
"Lee- wait." Draco is close behind him, dressed now but not looking ready to leave. Lee stalls at the door and smiles.
"What's up?"
"Nothing," Draco takes his wrist again gently and leans in, "just this."
The kiss is soft and short, but Lee still presses in for more. It weighs a ton, a promise and a little thrill beneath it, better than any tepid peck goodnight.
"I'll take that, yeah," Lee laughs when they're done.
Draco nods like his duty is done and lets him go with a short squeeze of his hip. "Have a good night."
"I already have had a good night. Take care, Draco." He gives him one last smile and finally makes himself push out onto the street. Sometimes he runs home, but he thinks tonight he'll walk; get some dinner. Cathy keeps saying he should eat more. He's finally getting his palate back after all the treatments, and exercise helps make him hungrier. There's a new restaurant near his place that he'd like to try, lots of the neighborhood newly renovated and swinging for ‘on trend’. The place itself – Katz’, it’s called – serves Korean Jewish fusion as its specialty, and Lee is intrigued enough to go inside when he’s scanned the menu. Inside it’s clean and ambient and swish, with comfortable seating and low music, just enough of a rumble of business that he doesn’t feel like he sticks out eating alone. He sits at the bar and studies their wine selection while he eats (shakshuka, with a herbed bread he feels compelled to find the recipe for), finding it pretty limp.
A place like this could use a wine bar next door. He hums at the thought, wondering if anyone working tonight is the owner. Idle observation of the bar isn’t immediately illuminating, but there aren't too many servers this late at night. A woman in a dark shirt at the till is poring intently over something on a clipboard. Lee tilts his head, folds over his menu and raises his head to catch her attention.
She looks up, immediately attentive. "How can I help you?"
"You wouldn't be the owner, by chance?"
"Might be. Who's asking?" Her words are brisk, but she smiles, dark eyes twinkling.
"Lee Fallon. This place is fantastic, and this is one of the best meals I’ve eaten in months." Now he's not needing to supplement his food so much, he's been able to revert back to vegetarianism, which had been a subject of contention amongst his fellow Buddhists for some time.
"I’m glad to hear it. Bev Katz." She reaches out to shake his hand. "Is there anything else you need?"
"I wanted to ask you a few questions about the shop next door, it’s empty at the minute, right?"
"Oh yeah? What do you wanna know?" She tucks her chin against her palm and leans on the bar to listen.
He explains that he's moved here from New Orleans, that he owned a wine bar for years and wants to open a new one. He asks about business, about the other bars in the neighborhood. Bev Katz seems unworried by the line of questioning, and her answers are easy and informative.
"I don't know much about wine," she admits, "but the guy I rent off owns next door too."
"I'm not much of a food connoisseur, I guess that's why I'm interrogating you," he says with a slightly bashful smile.
"Oh, interrogate away, it's a slow night." She grins back. "Can I get you another drink?"
"I think I’m done, but the house red wasn’t too disappointing."
"Is that so, wine guy?"
"Mm, better than the special."
Bev smirks. "I'll take your word for it. You want dessert?"
"I don’t think I could fit it in, but god, my dinner was delicious," he enthuses.
She nods with satisfaction. "All right. I'll go get you the card for the realtor, okay? Be right back."
"Thanks." Lee drains the last of his wine while he waits, shifting a bit where his chance encounter with Draco already has a little stiffness settling into his muscles. He's entirely too pleased with himself about that portion of the evening, not to mention how eager Draco was to participate. More eager than Lee had imagined he would be, in any case. He's so pleased when someone manages to surprise him. It doesn't happen that often anymore.
The manager - Bev, he remembers - reappears with the card she promised. "Here you are."
"You're a saint."
She chuckles. "Sure am. Come back to eat anytime, Lee."
"I might be spending my lunches here. I'll bring you some decent wine, perhaps."
"Sounds fair." She takes his credit card and rings him up herself.
Lee leaves feeling pretty pleased with himself, full and satisfied and tired. "More of the same, please," he jokes to himself and the universe at large as he lets himself into his apartment. He sleeps deep and easy when he goes to bed, and that's something he could get used to as well.