24 -- WE NEED TO TALK

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Laurent went home eventually, asking the doctors every day if he could go, assuring them that Larry would be there, at his beck and call.  He and the doctors just raised a mutual eyebrow at that statement, knowing full well that Laurent would try to do as much for himself as he could.  But at least the doc knew that Larry would stand for no nonsense once they got there.

Larry insisted on carrying everything into the apartment, and he would have carried Laurent too, if he let him.  Larry got him settled on the sofa, well at least he tried.  He waited, standing in front of Laurent as he adjusted his seating arrangements, hands twitching, ready to help if needed.

"Stop, Larry.  If you keep this up, I'm going back to the hospital.  Even they weren't this bad."  Again, he quirked a disbelieving eyebrow.  While Laurent was in hospital, Larry'd had cleaners come in to the apartment, so the place was spotless and smelt wonderful, there was fresh clean bedding on Laurent's bed, and fresh flowers to replace the one's that Laurent had bought that day.  He had bought Larry's favourite, white roses, and Larry had replaced them with Laurent's favourite .... white roses.  

While Laurent watched T.V., Larry made them dinner, and they chatted amiably as he did so, Larry making sure he didn't make Laurent laugh too much.  He was still sore and achy, but his wound was healing well.  Before them, a scene of complete domestic bliss.  As Larry waited for his pasta to cook to a perfect al dente', he gazed at the roses on the corner of the kitchen counter top, then at Laurent's illuminated face as he watched some nondescript T.V show.  Larry felt so at ease now, this domestic bliss suited them both, he thought. He had come so far, he reminded himself, and he still hadn't finished his journey, and especially not with this man.  Even though they had now had 31 years together, he was looking forward to his new life ....

His thoughts stopped abruptly, interrupted by Charlie's face.  --  I'm married  --  he had to keep reminding himself, and that in itself wasn't good.  How did you need to be reminded that you were married, for fucks sake ?  As if to absolve himself of the guilt he felt, he texted Charlie.  Again.  Fifth text, they'd face timed once, and called twice.  All instigated by Larry.  A lot of guilt, then, he supposed.

He and Laurent ate at the kitchen counter, as trying to eat off of his lap was still hard work for Laurent.  He noticed the flowers, and the wine Larry had chosen.  Larry smiled at him in recognition. 

"This is the wine you bought.  It's the only Cab I like, you knew that, and it's horrendously expensive, Lau.  But thank you, I appreciate it."  They chinked glasses,  "Even though you shouldn't be drinking it with, with your medication."

"Oh, shut up, it's a few mouthfuls, if that.  You gonna take everything I wanna do away ?"  He pouted in faux petulance.  As Laurent filled his face with Pasta Puttanesca, another of his favourites, Larry put his napkin down, and slowly walked over to his brother, standing in front of him as he ate.  Larry loved watching people enjoy his food, and after the hospital food, it looked like Laurent was just about in culinary heaven.  Smiling softly, he took Laurent's fork out of his hand, placing it in his bowl, Laurent now wondering what the hell could be so important as to stop him from eating.  He swiveled Laurent's stool so that they were facing each other, pushing Laurent's knees apart slightly, so he could shimmy his skinny little ass to settle in between Laurent's thighs.  

"Larry .... "  Laurent warned,

"I'll be gentle ..... "  Even though he was reluctant to start anything, he gripped Larry gently by his waist, pulling him a little closer for all his protestation, tilting his head slightly, so that Larry could have more access to .... whatever he wanted.  He was indeed gentle, tantalizingly so, as he swept his tongue agonizingly slowly from his collar bone to just behind his ear, making Laurent shift in his seat, a low moan escaping his lips.  Larry moved closer still, so that they were now chest to chest and groin to groin, having pulled Laurent's hips forward on his stool, so he could grind on him.

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