Chapter Text
On Saturday morning, Neal asked Janelle for her help choosing a date outfit. He texted her pictures of possible outfit coordinations to get her input. She said, “I hope you and Amanda have fun!” and Neal liked the message, hoping they could move on quickly.
Did Lee know he and Snodgrass were a thing?
He must know.
It's not like Lee had any morals, anyway. He wouldn't give a fuck. It was one of the things Neal liked about him.
Neal hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Gale, so figuring out what to do on dates with Amanda had taken some trial and error. That at least meant he was better prepared to take Lee out like he wanted.
There was a newish Italian fusion restaurant downtown. It had lacquered tables and cloth napkins and some rabbit food Lee might actually eat. It was a hit with Amanda, who always ordered some kind of salad and then giggled as she stole bites of whatever actual food he ordered, like the shrimp alfredo or bolognese or truffle fries.
---
Neal picked Lee up from a gated apartment complex. When he got there, Lee made them switch cars from Neal’s old SUV to his Jeep with the leather seats.
Lee wore a tan suit over a very unbuttoned white shirt. “You look nice,” Neal said, gruffly but hopefully with the right amount of conviction in his voice. He believed it. With the top three buttons undone, Lee somehow looked much lighter and calmer. Neal hoped he hadn’t dipped into his klonopin stash.
Lee didn’t acknowledge the compliment outright, but he did preen, angling himself to highlight the sharp edge of his jaw and his lips.
“Where are we going?”
“Il Trifoglio. Don’t worry, they have low-carb shit you can eat.”
“Well, okay.” Lee settled himself more comfortably into the passenger seat.
Lee was suitably impressed by the lobby, which was decorated with little floating metal things hanging from the ceiling and a fake mural behind the host’s podium. Everyone was so polite that the waiter tried to pull out Lee’s chair and Neal had to wrestle it away from him so he could do the honors. That part was frankly fucking inelegant, but the whole scene only made Lee’s smile more brilliant. He opened the menu and made a big show of considering the options.
“Let’s see... There’s grilled salmon, that would work, there’s chicken romaine salad... Gamby, what do you usually get?”
“The pasta’s good.”
“Hmm. What about the truffle fries?”
“Oh, yeah, those are the best.”
They settled on chicken romaine salad to share, grilled salmon for Lee, and carbonara for Neal. Lee rattled off their order efficiently when the waiter arrived, then cracked open the wine menu. The restaurant wasn’t nice enough to offer wine tasting before you bought a bottle, but Lee bullied the waiter into letting them try a few. He brought out three tiny cups filled with sips of wine, and Lee ultimately chose the chablis.
“A man after my own heart,” Neal said approvingly, then choked on his wine. Was that too much, too soon? The date setting made interacting with Lee somehow just as awkward as dating a woman.
He watched Lee’s very exposed throat bob as he drank wine, followed the line of his throat down to his exposed chest. They finished the bottle over dinner, and it was fucking perfect. Lee turned his nose up at dessert, but he ended up eating the entire serving of vanilla ice cream that came with the apple pie Neal ordered. Neal thought about how it would make his mouth taste.
“Would you like to come home with me,” Neal said as he opened the car door for Lee, the very image of courteous first date behavior.
Lee responded by pushing him against the card door and kissing him thoroughly, licking so deep into his mouth Neal had to grab the door handle for stability.
---
When they tumbled into Neal’s living room, the world was still wine-soft and welcoming.
Lee pushed him down onto the couch, teeth bared in a smile. He climbed into Neal’s lap and kissed him, hard and certain.
Neal held him in place by his thighs. Lee’s legs had been an endless source of fascination for him. They were long and slender and surprisingly smooth. He almost never got to see them bare, but had imagined them hooked over his shoulders many times. Lee was all bendy and shit, it would probably be fucking awesome– he could get that good angle.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” Lee hissed, and set to work unbuttoning Neal’s shirt. “I earned this shit.” He slid his hands over Neal’s chest, tangling his fingers in the chest hair, tracing his nails over his gut.
Neal sat back and let Lee take the lead; he was happy enough watching Lee lit up from behind, the ceiling light like a halo, eyes closed and mouth parted. He looked almost like an angel, quiet and intense.
Then he was undoing Neal’s slacks, which was a surprise, fuck, and he yanked down his tasteful gray boxer briefs and freed his semi-hard dick.
“Oh my god,” Lee said with an evil little smile. “You’re so into this shit. Into me, huh?”
Neal scoffed and said, “Duh. Why do you think we’re here?”
He leaned down close enough to the head to make Neal’s heart race, but he didn’t take it in his mouth. He dripped a slow, hot stream of spit directly onto Neal’s cock, which twitched and stiffened. They both watched as Lee got him nice and wet without even touching him– basically an act of cruelty.
Just when Neal really couldn’t take it anymore and was about to complain, Lee wrapped his hand around him and started a slow exploratory stroke. With his gloved hand, he tipped Neal’s face up to meet his eyes.
“Look at me,” he cooed.
Neal could only nod and slide his hands along Lee’s thighs, tracing their shape and hoping he’d have a chance to touch the bare flesh of them later.
Lee ran his leather glove over Neal’s jaw and mouth, pressing down on his bottom lip until his mouth opened enough for Lee to slide two fingers over his tongue.
“Lee, fuck, fuck, stop. I’m gonna blow my load if you keep doing that,” Neal said.
“Is that so?” Lee said with an arrogant little curl to his lip. His hand stilled. “I’m still expecting you to fuck me.”
“Then fucking strip, Russell” Neal said impatiently. “C’mon. Get these off,” and he started in on Lee’s belt buckle. Lee stood up and undid his pants the rest of the way, shucking them off clumsily, with none of his usual grace.
Lee’s thighs were tanned, dusted with fair hairs, and Neal leaned in to bite the muscle above his knee. He was so entranced with his legs he didn't even really register his first time seeing a hard dick that wasn't his own.
“Get those teeth away from me,” Lee said, but he was out of breath. He bent over and fumbled with his pants, retrieving a little packet that he spread over his hand. Right. Lube. He reached behind himself and Neal watched as he slicked himself up.
He wrapped the same hand around Neal's dick, and it was cold and jelly-like and reminded him of hospitals.
Neal wasn't sure what to expect, or how far Lee would go, but he sank down on Neal, and the first press of Neal’s cock inside him was agonizing. Neal moaned, open and loud like he had nothing to hide.
Lee closed his eyes, took a breath, and sank down the rest of the way until he was seated in Neal's lap.
Neal held tightly onto his hips, smoothing his hands over his surprisingly toned flank where his shirt rode up. Lee rolled his eyes, acclimating to the stretch, and muttered, “I can’t believe it’s actually big. Oh, God.”
Lee started to move, tensing his thighs and impaling himself rhythmically. He bit his lip and grabbed Neal's shoulder for balance and ground down deep, hitting some nerve inside him that made him gasp and dig his nails in and screw up his face like he was mortally wounded. He was tight around Neal, clenching and sliding over his cock at an increasing pace.
Lee released Neal’s shoulder to stroke his hand over himself, something Neal dumbly realized maybe he had been expected to do. Neal watched Lee touch himself (not as small as he had been expecting) and wring out moans and lose his composure, completely lost in his need to get fucked and get off and maybe come all over Gamby’s chest and gut.
Neal had wanted something like this for a long time– to see Lee reduced to a wordless, squirming, pathetic mess. In the past it had taken the form of fantasies about beating him up behind the school, or slamming his skinny body against the lockers, or using the historic Get It paddle over his ass.
The reality was so much better: Neal reached up and pushed his thumb against Lee’s soft lips, which were all red from exertion and arousal. Lee was shiny with sweat and whining but he was also looking at Neal like he held the secrets to the universe, like he was going to solve everything wrong with Lee by fucking it out of him.
Lee gritted his teeth, making eye contact with Neal as he worked himself over faster and faster. Neal traced over his thin dress shirt to find his nipple, rubbing it where it peaked through the fabric, which forced a gasp out of Lee and his jaw went slack and Neal couldn’t let this moment pass without kissing him, licking messily into his mouth as he cried out and came.
Lee kind of slumped forward to rest against Neal’s chest and shoulder.
“I’m gonna keep going,” Neal told him, and used as much leverage as possible to fuck into him. Neal was so close, and Lee’s passive, boneless slump was hot in its own way, like Neal was having his way with him. He finally had Lee right where he wanted him, and he could keep driving his cock into him as long as he wanted. Now that Neal was guiding the rhythm, he was fucking in fast and hard, his focus narrowed to the places where his and Lee’s body joined.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lee said, sounding muffled from being smushed against Neal. “Goddamn. Are you gonna come inside me, or what?”
“Fuck yeah I am,” Neal replied. “What do you take me for? A quitter? Lee, you feel so fucking good, I’m gonna bust.” He tripped over the edge right as he said it, and the orgasm ripped a low grunt from his throat. He came for a seeming fucking eternity, and Lee gave a weak little moan as his dick pulsed inside him.
He leaned back against the couch, hoping to never need to move again. Lee hissed at the movement.
“Slowly, man, fuck,” he said. “Let me detach.” He collapsed, bare-assed, on the couch next to Neal.
“I’m gonna need to get this thing cleaned,” Neal said.
“You can borrow my furniture steamer,” Lee said. He set his shiny white teeth on Neal’s collarbone. Neal figured it’d probably bruise. He wrapped an arm around Lee’s shoulder– Lee’s shirt was damp with sweat and nearly see-through.
Then Lee was reaching for his cigarettes and lighter. He raised his eyebrows at Neal, who gestured to the door, because he was not having his house turned into an ashtray. Lee pulled his slacks on and buttoned them without zipping up, cigarette already in his mouth.
So much for afterglow.
When Lee came back in, though, he looked ready to cuddle.
“These clothes are fucking disgusting now,” he said, but the words were undercut by the satisfaction on his face.
“So, that was actually pretty good,” Neal said.
“Duh,” Lee said. “Hey, can I check out your bedroom? I wanna see the sheet setup, know what I’m working with.”
“Oh,” Neal said. “Are you inviting yourself over?”
“You’re the one who invited me over, Neal,” he said, heading down the hallway.
“Hey, wait,” Neal said. “I’m not exactly prepared.
“Motherfucker, don’t you want me warming your bed? This is a fucking gift.”
They changed the sheets together and Neal was subjected for the first time to Lee’s elaborate bedtime ritual, which included a cup of tea, stretches, and an open window.
--
Neal woke up late the next morning to a series of text notifications. He mumbled a few curses in the pillow and then reached for his phone on his bedside table. The other side of the bed was empty, he couldn’t help but notice.
Janelle was pretty much the only person who texted him, and never that early. Neal braced himself for something horrible, like Ray having fallen off his bike and broken his neck, or something.
But the texts were actually from Amanda, who usually just called him when she needed to get in touch. After enough unanswered texts and late responses, she changed her approach and switched to calls only.
Hey, I missed you last night. We on for next saturday?
Also, Ms. Swift says she saw you with Lee Russell last night. At our restaurant.
So weird!
“Fucking small town,” Neal grumbled.
He fired off a text.
Don’t know what u r talkin bout. Was home last nite. Swift is liar
Then he turned off his phone and went downstairs to make himself breakfast.
Lee sat at the dining room table wearing one of Neal’s old t-shirts and, presumably, boxers, but they were hidden under the long hem of the shirt. He was digging into a plate of scrambled eggs.
“Making yourself at home, huh?”
Lee looked up at him, his eyes wide and pained. “I thought I was gonna get the full experience. Wined, dined, fucked mercilessly, then treated to a homecooked breakfast.”
“I don’t wake up at the crack of dawn on weekends. Sorry, sweetheart.”
Lee tilted his head, birdlike, at the endearment, like he was considering something really important. Then he smiled.
---
Only after a good hour or two of leisurely making out interspersed with episodes of Lee’s favorite Korean drama did Neal realize he left his phone upstairs.
“Oh, shit, let me grab my phone in case Janelle calls or something.”
“I’m not pausing the show,” Lee called out as he climbed the stairs.
Neal grabbed his phone and idly turned it on. He wasn’t used to watching TV with subtitles, but Lee’s shows were strangely compelling. Neal wanted to get back to watching them as soon as possible.
His phone was blowing up in his pocket, though. More texts from Amanda.
Neal, be serious please. You’re in the background here instagram.com/s23482u049i2kmf23eh2034i9234me2nr
Neal sighed. He didn’t fucking have time for riddles.
Not opening that
Amanda pinged him back almost instantly. The message consisted entirely of a zoomed-in, blurry shot of him and Russell sitting at the table together. They were touching hands. Not quite holding hands– there was a distinction there. But the effect was basically the same. They were smiling at each other, for fuck’s sake.
Neal fought to keep his breakfast down. “Oh, fuck.” Amanda was calling now. He declined the call and turned his phone back off.
He staggered back down the stairs and sat down next to Russell, trying to keep his composure.
Lee immediately turned to him, sighed, and said, “What’s wrong?”
“What? Fucking nothing. Let’s watch your show.”
“Date’s over, numbskull, you can act normal now. No need to be on your best behavior.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Okay. I’m not gonna ask again,” Lee warned.
“That’s fine, I don’t want to talk about it. Because there’s nothing to talk about. So what is Hyo-kyung up to now? I missed the last scene.”
“Oh, she’s doing something absolutely devious.” Lee’s whole face lit up and he launched into an explanation of her family’s criminal schemes.
They watched two more episodes before Lee had to leave. They kissed by the door, brief and chaste, before Lee drove away. It was very strange to have this pantomime of domestic peace with a man he’d seen gleefully commit felonies.
Back in the kitchen, Neal turned his phone back on. There was only one new message. Amanda’s text said, Call me, which did not bode well. Neal sighed and laid back on the couch. He could watch a few more episodes of First Love before he called her, right?
He glanced at his phone again, groaned, and turned off the TV.
“Hey, Amanda. What’s up?” he said, shooting so hard for neutral that he might’ve bypassed it and ended up channeling hostility.
“Hey, Neal. So nice of you to finally call,” she said, oozing sarcasm. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were supposed to call me Saturday. Remember?”
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, Amanda, that was a busy day.”
“Obviously. You were too busy following Lee Russell around, giving him the royal treatment. I don’t understand, Neal. What do you want from our relationship? What was the point of those couples counseling sessions? They were pretty expensive .”
“I can’t have lunch with my best friend?”
“I thought you were done with him. I don’t like him, Neal. So, yeah, you’d better have an explanation. It’s not just this, it’s like– you’re totally checked out half the time. And now you’re fucking Lee Russell, or something.” She laughed. Neal did not laugh. “Come on, Neal. It’s funny, right? I don’t know if you know this, but last year everyone would joke about you guys, like you were in some secret relationship or something. It honestly made a lot of sense until I found out you were just committing crimes together.”
Neal still said nothing; he wasn’t a good liar. He had been quiet for too long now, he knew, but he wasn’t sure what he could say that would sound normal.
“That’s not what’s going on, right?” Amanda said, with a nervous edge to her voice. “I really don’t want Bill Hayden to have been right.”
“I’m not in a relationship with Lee Russell,” Neal said, scoffing. “What? Gross.” Even to his own ears it sounded wrong, like he was lying, even though they totally were not in a relationship and that was the truth.
“Oh my fucking God. You are the worst liar. You should’ve just not said anything.” He could picture the disgusted face she was making. Why were they having this conversation over the phone? This is why he hated phones.
“Amanda, we aren’t dating. I swear to god. We did get dinner together last night, yeah. You got me.”
“Well, why didn’t you answer my calls until now? Did he sleep over or something?”
More silence.
“Neal, I know you. Come on.”
“Amanda.”
“Are you seriously cheating on me with that asshole? Neal, what the fuck?”
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you I was seeing him!” Neal said.
“You’re always shutting me out, Neal. Is this why? Did you ever even like me? Whatever’s going on with you and Lee is just– weird. I need to get off the phone. I need to think. Don’t call me, okay?”
Neal fucking hated Instagram and camera phones and all that shit.
---
Three beers deep and starting on a fourth, Neal called Lee.
“Hey, man. What are you up to?”
“I just got off work and now I’m stuck in traffic, fantasizing about strangling all the cocksuckers around me who can’t drive.”
“My day has also been pretty fucking bad,” Neal said.
“Wanna compare notes?” Lee asked. “We can have a little competition. Whose day fucking sucks more?”
“Amanda called me,” Neal said, totally ruining his plans to keep the Snodgrass situation close to the vest. That fourth beer was starting to hit.
“Ah,” Lee said. His voice sounded kind of weird and distant. “And how did that go?”
“She thinks I’m fucking you,” Neal said. Somehow talking to Lee about this made him feel ashamed.
“Okay, well, you are,” Lee said, sounding annoyed.
“I know. I didn’t want her to know, though.”
There was a clattering noise and the faint sound of Lee cursing. “Well, what the fuck, Gamby? Are you really asking me to comfort you about cheating on your girlfriend? She is still your girlfriend, isn’t she? You could’ve fuckin’ mentioned that.”
“I wasn’t really sure where the night would go.”
“Okay. Sure. Well, what’d she say?”
“To go fuck myself, basically.”
“And are you gonna do that?”
“Maybe later tonight, I don’t know. It feels fucking bad, though. I thought I really liked her. But if I did, I probably wouldn’t have gone out with you, you know?”
Lee laughed at him. “Neal Gamby, I’ll talk to you later. Find someone else to talk to about this.”
The thing is, Neal didn’t have anyone else to talk to. He was willing to go to Ray for a lot, but he would not let his ex-wife’s new husband know that he was fucking men now. So all he could really do was sit and stew and pace and realize that Amanda probably wouldn’t be calling him back, or at least not with good news.
---
Neal didn’t talk to Lee for four days after that. It was kind of terrible, going almost an entire workweek without him. Amanda didn’t call either, but that wasn’t much of a shock.
On Friday, Neal came home to find Lee’s car ominously parked in the driveway. Lee himself was perched on the front porch railing, catlike, obviously waiting for Neal to approach.
He studied Neal, cigarette in hand and a cool, collected look on his face that could level buildings.
“If you had kept me informed, I could have helped you get away with it, dipshit.” He turned away to stare into the forest. With everything that happened since, Neal could sometimes forget that Lee almost fucking died on his front lawn. Probably that was among the things Lee was thinking about.
“But now you're stuck with me, huh? You lost your blonde, pert little prize due to reckless fucking around,” Lee said flatly. This was not a typical Lee breakdown. Neal had seen enough of those for a lifetime– his voice would pitch up and up and his face got all red and shiny. He used his anger as a bludgeon, and it got him what he wanted often enough.
Upon closer inspection, though, Lee’s good hand was trembling a little, which was definitely an ill omen.
“Lee, c’mon. It’s not like that at all.”
“She’s like, twenty-eight, and her hairline’s practically down to her eyebrows, and she's smiley and nice –” He broke off. “But I don’t want to be a stand-in for all of that.
“Christ’s sake, Lee. Do you need a pill?”
“Fucking what ?” His eyes widened.
“You just seem like you’re freaking out, and it might calm you down if you took one of your pills,” Neal said in the most soothing voice he could muster.
“I flushed the klonopin, Gamby, Jesus. What I need ,” and he grimaced like he’d just been stabbed in the gut, “is to know that this is for real. That you... want me. In some capacity.”
“Well, I do want you, Lee, that’s why we’re here.”
“How much?” Lee said, quiet and low.
“Enough to blow up my life,” Neal said, shifting down onto his knees in front of where Lee leaned against the porch railing. It wasn't a smooth process, but Lee watched him with hungry eyes. He shuffled closer. “For some fucked up reason, I love spending time with you. There's no one in the world like you, and maybe that's for the best.”
“I’m listening,” Lee said, reaching out to thread his hands through Neal’s hair.
“Being with you makes me more myself than I ever have been,” Neal said. “Okay? I hated you, for years, but it turns out you’re, like, the only one who gets me. I don’t understand it. But this is once-in-a-lifetime shit.”
“So where do we go from here?” Lee asked.
Neal bristled at the way he didn’t even acknowledge how he was pouring his goddamn heart out, but he swallowed the annoyance to ask, “Where do you want to start?”
“I have no fuckin’ idea,” Lee said. He turned his head to stare up at the old wood beams holding up the porch. “My last relationship– well, you know how that went. It was all very meticulously planned. I don’t think I wanna do that again.”
“My mom is dead,” Neal said. “So there’s no chance of her ever having to move in with us.”
Lee snorted. “Good to know. I’m keeping my apartment, by the way. This looks like the fuckin’ Unabomer’s house. I will never move into this place, Neal Gamby.”
“Okay. Line in the sand, got it.”
“I fucking want this, Neal. I’m done with living my life by other people’s rules. My dad is dead, and there’s no one left on earth who can judge me. I want you.” He paused. “Feel like proving anything else to me?”
“Whatever you need,” Neal said solemnly.
Lee’s smile spread slowly across his face. “Then how about you suck this dick?” He palmed himself and watched Neal expectantly.
“What, now?”
“No time like the present. Besides, I need to see if you can handle the reality of fucking a man, getting up close and personal with my dick.”
“I've never done it before,” Neal said awkwardly.
“It’s real easy. Open up, darlin’.”
Neal sighed. “You need to take it out first.”
“ You take it out. Prove yourself to me. Why else did you come here on your knees?” He had so many goddamn teeth.
Lee's belt buckle was more complicated than it had any right to be, but eventually he managed it. He pulled down gray boxer briefs to find that Lee was only half-hard.
“Touch it a little first,” Lee said. “Get acquainted.”
Neal ran his finger from the tip along the underside down to Lee’s smooth balls.
“Okay,” Lee said. “Now lick the tip.”
Neal’s gaze flicked between Russell's pretty green eyes and the unavoidable reality of him being a man.
He stuck out his tongue and licked. It mostly just tasted like skin, like Neal was licking a long, rigid area anywhere on Lee's body.
“Fuck, Neal,” he said. “I like that. Always wanted to see you get that mustache into action. Keep that up.”
Stickiness welled up at the head, and Neal expected to hate it but he found himself chasing after it, licking Lee's slit even after he cleaned it all up. He started to chub up in his slacks.
“Now you can put it in your mouth,” he said. “No fucking teeth, please. Just slide it right in, over your lips, onto your tongue. Get some suction going.”
Neal relaxed his jaw and opened his mouth. As he swallowed inch after inch, he was surprised by how much space it took up in his mouth. It didn’t look particularly big, but it felt huge as he tried to fit it all inside.
“Move your tongue,” Lee said. Neal curled his tongue over his cock, trying to work it over in some kind of rhythm. He wrapped his hand around the base of Lee’s cock to keep it in place and stop it from slipping out of his mouth.
“Fuck yeah,” Lee moaned. “Grab it tighter.” His hips bucked a little, making Neal gag. He pulled off, sucking in deep breaths and trying not to feel too conscious of the spit around his mouth, the redness of his face. He took the opportunity to look up at Lee, who was staring down with an expression of awe on his face. No smugness, no look of superiority. Just pure, focused lust.
He took Neal’s face in his good hand and said, “Neal, please,” and that was all it took to renew Neal’s will to learn to give the best goddamn blowjob in town.
Clearly, Lee was done giving instructions– he was at the point where he could only watch and plead as Neal focused on making him come. Lee’s cock was a heavy, demanding intrusion in his mouth. The feeling of being pinned, of needing to supplicate to Lee and degrade himself like this had Neal crushing the heel of his palm against his erection as he learned how to slide his lips over a cock.
One particular downward stroke forced a groan out of Lee, and without warning he pulled his dick free of Neal’s mouth, beat himself off for a few strokes, and shot cum all over the lower half of Neal’s face, mustache and all.
“Jesus H. Christ, Gamby,” Lee said quietly. He slid to the ground and kissed Neal on the mouth, fluids be damned. Neal detached from him so he could attend to his own needs: he was so fucking hard he felt a little dizzy. It only took a few strokes staring at Lee’s fucked-out face and blissful expression before he was coming all over his hastily-opened trousers. He’d thought about Lee many times while touching himself but he’d never had the real thing in front of him as he jerked off. Wet and messy and flawed and exciting.
Instead of the mild shame he used to feel, Neal was filled with an eclipsing, almost manic joy. “Holy fucking shit,” he said, and started to laugh.
Lee was saying something, but he could wait. Neal was having a goddamn moment: he fucking loved Lee Russell.