Title:Reading Lips
Rating: T for adult language, and references to ho-mo-sexual relationships
Categories: General, Romance, maybe a splash of humor thrown in for good measure
Pairing: Denny/Alan. Sort of.
Spoilers: Dumping Bella, Selling Sickness
Author's Note: This is awful, not polished, slightly ridiculous, and…possibly wretchedly out of character. But, noticing a despairing lack of BL fic, I had to contribute.
Alan wonders if Denny realizes he was looking at Alan's lips. A perfectly unimportant little fact, of course, because Denny rarely looks where he ought, but the fact remains that it was Alan's mouth he was staring at while talking about convincing a cross-dressing employee to sleep with him.
Alan supposes that people have made greater sacrifices than the surrendering of their heterosexuality to sleep with Oprah.
But really, Alan's beginning to feel he may be being toyed with. Not on purpose, of course, but in some sort of...accidental runoff of Denny's own conflict with himself. And Denny is conflicted, no matter what he may say. There was actually a moment of genuine disappointment held in his expression when Alan had suggested he might need 'rehabilitated.' A little sigh, a slight drop of the shoulders, and his eyes drew somewhat reluctantly back up to Alan's. Away from Alan's lips.
Denny's got this thing for guys in drag. Anything in a skirt, really, but Alan knows better. Men are men, whether they're in a suit and tie, or wrapped up in a feather boa, singing Lady Marmalade, and dancing on a pole.
He winces at the mental image.
It's true, though. Alan knows Denny well enough to understand that point of view in his friend. Men are Men, and Gay is Gay. End of story. Denny just likes to think that a skirt and the likeness of a talk show host --or even an ex-lover-- changes that. Or maybe doesn't change it, but at least makes it acceptable on a fundamental level. Or a fuckable level, at any rate.
Sitting on the balcony, waiting for Denny, Alan is getting a headache mulling over a problem that isn't even his own. He can only imagine the migraines Denny must get from it.
Especially if he realizes he was looking at Alan's lips.
For all Denny's brilliance --and it really is brilliance, even with the Mad Cow-- in twisting the truth to change the right and wrong of any situation in the courtroom, he really is a rather black and white idealist at heart. There is Right and there is Wrong. There is Gay and there is Straight.
Alan has no such inhibitions.
Denny likes women. Alan likes women too. But he likes Denny more. And Denny...well. Denny's never taken a woman fishing in the three years that Alan's known him. Never taken one to a spa, either.
Everyone thinks it's the Alzheimer's-- Mad Cow, if you asked Denny-- that's clouding up his friend's mind. But Alan's beginning to think that Denny is what's got Denny so confused all the time. It's sure as hell what's distracting Alan.
But Denny's a problem solver. Eventually, he'll figure himself out, Alan's sure. And he's content to wait until he does.
"You're here!" Denny's voice pulls Alan from his musings, and he shifts round in his seat to watch his friend saunter onto the balcony.
"Always," He replies, as Denny hands him a scotch and a cigar, and he wonders if Denny can see a deeper meaning in his eyes, but of course, he can't, because he's looking down at Alan's lips again.
And Alan smiles.
Fin.
Commence with the stone throwing, now. But, if you're feeling generous and you want to throw me a comment in between rocks, I would sooo appreciate it. Thanks for Reading!