THE FOOD OF LOVE

3 -- RED WINE AND PAVEMENT PIZZA

Larry and Laurent agreed to meet in the hotel's reception.  It's restaurant was a foodie haven, and it was even up to Larry's almost impossibly high and exacting standards.  The conference was interesting enough for both of them, less than four hours long, and the dinner afterwards was heavenly.  They were seated together, of course, and shared a table with six other like minded restaurateurs and gourmet food specialists.  And, to their surprise, everyone knew who they both were, though not all of them were happy with that revelation.  Again, Larry's reputation had preceded him, as it nearly always did.

"Fresser, I'm surprised you actually deigned to grace us mere mortals with your presence."  one man proffered, cheeks flushed from too much complimentary JD and coke, his bald head reflecting a slight glare from the restaurant lighting.

"I was invited, so thought it might seem rude not to show up."  he smiled back.  The guy obviously hadn't finished, only now, Laurent was his target.

"And Bourgeois .... do truffles need welfare legislation now too ?"  the man chuckled to himself sarcastically, as no one else, and especially his companion, thought it funny.

"No, but the pigs did, and now the dogs most definitely will."  Snuffling dogs were now replacing the snuffling pigs, as the pigs could consume $1,000 worth of fungi in a single hunt, whereas the dogs could be trained to find, but not eat them.  Other than that, dinner was delightful, and the rest of their dining companions, almost as much.

The more content their stomachs, and the juicier the wine became, the mellower the two men appeared.  The light they found in each other's eyes sparkled and blurred in their almost drunkenness.  Almost.  Larry had drunk considerably more than Laurent, he was used to it, but Laurent, not so much.  So wisely, after his third glass of red, and second after dinner brandy, he stopped and ordered a coffee.  Larry had probably drunk twice as much.  

Their knees touched under the tablecloth, and neither one of them retracted them, and as their dining companions drifted away to talk to other like minded foodies, or to wend their way home, some of them also more than a little tipsy, Larry made what was, for him, a bold move.  

He was so confident in his every day life, in his kitchen, in his element, and even though extremely successful, and very attractive to the opposite, and even his own, sex, he was quite shy when it came to "making a move".  Now the only one's left sitting at their table, Larry turned his body towards Laurent's slightly, laying his hand on top of Laurent's hand, entwining their fingers together.  Laurent looked at their meshed fingers, moving his under Larry's gentle grip.

"Ohhhh kayyyy ....."  he smiled at Larry.  "So, date, then ...."

"Date then ..... " Larry smiled back, the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his brain, and making it's way to his very full belly.  Mind you, that could just be the dinner, but he doubted that this feeling was just that ..... 

"Are we done, do you think ?"  Laurent asked Larry tentatively, as he moved his fingers in between Larry's, pulling his hand towards him more.

"What, here ?  I'd say so ... "  --  Here.  Just here, but we're not done, not by a long shot  --  Laurent caught Larry's meaning too, cutting him a suspicious side glance.

"Your place, or mine, or shall we get a room here ?"  Larry knew the liquor, the red wine, and the cognac were giving him so much Dutch courage right now, he was determined to take advantage of it, he'd never find it again otherwise, or at another time.  

"I think we should just go home, don't you ?"  Laurent had his sensible head on, though he wished to God he didn't.  But, he knew that both he and Larry liked each other, as well as finding each other extremely fuckable, so he was in no doubt that all that would happen eventually.  But his brain kept telling him, I want it, I want him, and I want them both, now.