lunch hour

[ofanotherera]

Alfie makes a funny figure, walking through Tommy's pretty glass-walled building, along the marble lobby and towards the elevator that takes him up to the floor that houses the firm. He nods politely at the receptionist, who gestures for him to go on in. There are other delivery boys around, bringing quinoa salads and coffee with multi-syllabic names, but there is just one Alfie, with a few home made sandwiches and one thermos of soup.

He waits until the harried looking legal assistant leaves Tommy's office, and then catches the door before it can bang shut, and pokes his head in.

Comments

[bleak_midwinter]

Tommy has already moved to the one window that actually opens in his office, is sitting on the ledge, halfway to lighting a cigarette. When he sees Alfie he looks both caught red-handed and happy, a flush spreading over his cheeks.

"You came," he observes, and he puts the lighter back in his pocket, the cigarette unlit.

[ofanotherera]

"Told you I would."

He reminds him, shutting the door behind him, and stepping into the room, to unpack their food on the desk. Two bottles of soda, two sandwiches each, plus a little cup of soup- one cup only thanks to the thermos, but Tommy can go first.

"How are you feeling?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"Sore," he says, fondly, happily. He leans his hands on the table for balance while he leans over for a kiss. He looks different, here, than he even does when he's at home: the suit, the hair, everything is in place, but so is an undeniable professionalism. He's harder here than he is with Alfie, even if it's toned down now.

"Jesus, I've been so productive all morning."

[ofanotherera]

It makes Alfie want to throw him around, right here and right now. He settles for rubbing a hand a little bit saucily low down his side, curling over his waist for a moment, before letting go when the kiss breaks.

"Good. You will need rest and food at some point-"

[bleak_midwinter]

"Which you habitually provide me with. Rest being at irregular intervals." He lets go of the kiss with a little nip, and then falls into his chair, takes up the cup of soup and sips at it. His office has blinds, which are up right now, but food comes before being thrown around right now.

[ofanotherera]

"Tonight I have off."

He admits, settling down into his own sandwich.

"Come over. Get a decent night, more than four hours."

[bleak_midwinter]

Quietly, he slips off his nice shoes, puts his feet in Alfie's lap comfortably while he drinks his soup.

"I'll call, tell them not to expect me until tomorrow night."

[ofanotherera]

He smiles, and rests his hand on the arch of Tommy's foot, starting to eat one-handed.

"How are they?"

Alfie is never quite sure what to ask, what they think of him.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Fine, fine." He wiggles his toes, once. Even his socks are nice, and it didn't used to be noteworthy, but these days it makes him roll his eyes at himself a little.

"Asking when you're going to come over. Ma wants to cook you a big dinner, teach you how to take care of her boy."

[ofanotherera]

Alfie shivers, and holds on a little tighter. Okay, but-

"If you think so. This weekend?"

[bleak_midwinter]

He hides his smile behind the cup, wraps his fingers around it a little tighter.

"Not if you don't want to, Alfie. They can wait."

[ofanotherera]

"I want to."

He decides, giving him a little squeeze.

"Can you explain about the meat?"

He doesn't keep the kosher plate requirements, not out in public, not in this lifetime, but meat and milk served in one dish- and pork, too, he both avoids.

[bleak_midwinter]

He smiles, fondly, and leans forward enough that Alfie can lean in for another kiss. "I will."

He puts his cup down, then takes a sandwich of his own. He breaks off a little bit every time before he eats, slowly. He feels warmth curling in his stomach at the thought of his family at the table, and this term now including Alfie.

[ofanotherera]

"So. I promised you some background."

He says, when it's his turn to reach for the soup, refilling the cup and starting to eat.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Yes." His voice is soft, expectant- he'll let Alfie tell this story at his own pace. No need to draw it out of him like one of his witnesses.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie decides to start from the beginning. He doesn't know what Tommy knows, but knows how he sees it.

"What we did last night were two very mild examples of bondage, and a kind of interaction called D/s, or dominance and submission."

[bleak_midwinter]

He knows the former, and recalls the other the moment Alfie says it- not active knowledge, but he'd known. He licks his lips and nods, wiggling his toes again.

[ofanotherera]

"When you get heavily into either one of those things, you quickly meet a community of thusly inclined individuals."

He explains.

"The way professional bowlers and swing dancers all know one another."

[bleak_midwinter]

He looks at Alfie with fond amusement, raising his eyebrows.

"Swing dancers who sometimes like to take a swing at each other. Alright."

[ofanotherera]

"Right. And you can learn a lot- but you need to leave, eventually, because it's a flighty, insular little network."

Trying to explain.

"Like any tight knit hobby. Reputation, ego-"

[bleak_midwinter]

"Why did you leave?" Before he can even think about the things Alfie had done there, what he'd learned.

[ofanotherera]

"It was primarily non-monogamous. More poly people than not."

Explaining, with a thin, long sigh.

"Had a few too many dates ask to open up."

[bleak_midwinter]

It doesn't surprise him that this would bother Alfie- too intense a lover to be able to share, Tommy thinks, and with Tommy, at least, he loves too fiercely to be able to give a satisfactory amount of attention to multiple partners.

He flattens his foot on Alfie's leg, finishes his first sandwich.

"How long were you involved in that community?"

[ofanotherera]

"Four years. Twenty, to twenty four."

So a good long time ago now, given that Alfie is older than Tommy, nearly coming up on forty.

"I brought some of it to bed with me in the times after."

[bleak_midwinter]

"What do you like- what did you?" This is asked softly, and he's too intent on the conversation now to remember to pick up his next sandwich.