OTA

[kersen]

Kersen sometimes did this thing where when he was feeling his worst, he tried to look his best. Elaborate drag when he was the most down, for example. Like maybe he could force cheerfulness with sequins and lipstick.

This time, he couldn't seem to muster up the energy for drag, though. What "look" said 'I just found out a lover is a serial killer'? Particularly coupled with 'what does this say about my taste in men'? Finally, he'd just gone with the forced cheerfulness: dark purple leather pants and a shirt (gifted to him by an employee years ago) that read OF COURSE I'M PRO-GAY, DO YOU THINK I WORK THIS HARD TO BE AN AMATEUR GAY in bright rainbow colors.

... also he'd started smoking again. Which was a little ironic since he was pretty sure that any effect they had on him was purely psychosomatic.

However, at the moment he was having a smoke break outside his bar. It was fairly early yet, just past 9pm. The streets were still full, lively with people leaving restaurants and shops, heading into bars and theaters. He liked this time of night, where the world was still alive. Wished he could experience more of it.

Some asshole walking by threw a homophobic slur at him, and he was briefly, stupidly tempted to flash his fangs as a threat. Instead he said, "The most fabulous you'll ever see, honey," and flicked the cigarette to the ground. Luckily it was the cowardly sort of asshole, and he just stuck up his middle finger and kept walking.

Comments

[kersen]

Kersen turned his body so that he was facing Michael, their bodies close. "I just feel like it's always about me," he said softly. "You never talk about what's going on with you."

[trustearned]

"And I never will," Michael reminded him, frowning slightly. They had had this conversation before - more than once.

[kersen]

"I don't mean... you don't have to tell me details, I don't need to know what you do. I just want to know how you are. I feel selfish. You support me, I never get to support you..." He put a hand to Michael's face. "Bad things must happen sometimes. Things that upset you. Would you ever come to me for comfort? You wouldn't have to tell me why."

[trustearned]

"You've been there before," Michael simply replied. It was just that Kersen had not known it, but it had already happened.

[kersen]

"Oh," said Kersen softly.

Then he sighed and dropped his hand, then tipped his head against Michael's chest. "Why do we work, Michael? It seems like you'd be sick of... me. I'm emotional, I overshare, I'm clingy..."

[trustearned]

Michael's hand came back to Kersen's nape, fingers curving along it. "It seems like you'd be sick of me," he returned Kersen's point. "I'm shut off, I never share, I don't reach out."

[kersen]

It... was a fair point. Kersen caught Michael's hand and curled their fingers together. He hesitated, and then said quietly, "I won't lie, sometimes it's difficult. But it also means that there are moments with you... that mean so much... and it's your actions that matter."

He bit his lip, and then looked up at Michael. "You love me."

[trustearned]

Michael held his gaze for a couple of seconds, then nodded.

[kersen]

Kersen wrapped his arms around Michael's neck and kissed him, sliding a hand lightly into his hair. He kissed him like he loved him.

[trustearned]

Michael kissed him back, one arm wrapping around his waist, still holding his glass in his other hand.

[kersen]

The kiss was so good, and when it broke Kersen kept the embrace, leaning his forehead against Michael's. "I love you," he said softly. "You make less lonely. You make me better."

[trustearned]

Michael felt just as awkward as ever at the thought of voicing any of his emotions, so he answered Kersen with another kiss, into which he poured everything he was feeling.

[kersen]

When the kiss broke, Kersen said breathlessly, "Come downstairs. Make love to me. Stay the night."

[trustearned]

Michael stepped back and finished his glass, then abandoned it and grabbed his coat to take downstairs with him, taking Kersen's hand in his other one to draw him towards the stairs.

[kersen]

continued here