@ofstage asked: [26]. after a pleasant night out together, sender asks: "can i kiss you goodnight?"
the man, santiago, had cut a fine figure even under the club’s unflattering light. even in the garish orange light his eyes had remained a visible shade of green. tom had noticed them the second he had entered the room and had continued to feel them look at him all throughout the night. unsettling. fascinating. perhaps a figment of his imagination. tom had ignored it for awhile, then switched his seat to be sure he was looking, before, at last, after several glasses of wine and a handful of cigarettes, his curiosity had won and he had walked over to sit in a chair nearby him. it had felt like being summoned.
up close he looked divine. his thin lips permanently paused in a manner that made him look amused, his thin, bleached hair greased back, but not enough that a few hairs hadn’t strayed. tom was pleased when he had taken the initiative to speak. by the time he did, it felt like tom already heard his voice before. it surprised him when the man insisted they hadn’t met before, but then again, how could he have forgotten him?
tonight isn’t the first night he’s walked out of his establishment with some slightly older man. although he had simply gone because he hadn’t had the energy to walk himself back home, after the library, perhaps there had been some other, more subconscious reason. at least he is not surprised that the night takes them where it does and he does end up walking side by side with santiago. santiago taking him home under the guise of politeness (he imagines).
tom walks close to him, close enough to feel their elbows brushing occasionally and close enough to smell the leather his jacket is made of and the product in his hair. it only adds to the attraction. he studies him in the lamplight, listens to his stories mostly. it must have sent enough of a signal because, when they near his street, he tugs at his arm and leads him away from the lit pavement. he could be rougher and still tom wouldn’t have protested. he has enough wine in him that he sees no problem in it, no danger.
when they stop moving, tom finds the nearest to lean back against. he reaches for a cigarette in his pocket when santiago asks to kiss him. he goes on to light it, an amused smile on his face, taking a drag or two before responding. he looks at the man’s lips, like he’s taking them into consideration even with his mind fully made up. “i suppose that is not too much to ask,” tom almost hums his words and reaches to tug at his jacket to steer him closer. he continues with an arched brow, “is that all you want? a kiss goodnight?”
