That Burning In Your Eyes
The Snob didn’t even look up when Phelous slipped onto the stool beside him, instead choosing to tilt his glass ever so slightly and watch as the melted remains of ice sloshed together. He pretended not to listen as Phelous ordered a beer, but a careful observer would notice his gaze flicker from his drink to the Canadian every few seconds.
“You seem to be handling this well.” Cinema Snob let his glass settle on the bar before he removed his cigarette and swiveled his stool in Phelous’s direction.
“And how were you expecting me to handle this?” he asked, not bothering to hide the scorn in his voice. “Did you think I would burst into tears like a fucking child who’s just been sent to his room?”
“Of course I didn’t.” Phelous’s expression was calm and for some reason this pissed the Snob off even more.
“Or maybe you thought I’d call another one of those fucking meetings in order to ‘rally the troops’ and lead them against the Critic? Well I couldn’t care less about any one of those goddamn cowards!”
“They’re not happy that you’re gone,” Phelous said. His expression remained calm but the Snob could see a flicker of something in his eyes. “They all voted for you to stay, remember?”
Cinema Snob snorted and gestured to the almost empty room. “I don’t see any of those fuckers here to console me.”
“I’m here.” The Snob allowed his stool to swivel back to its proper position, unwilling to face those eyes any longer.
“Don’t think that means anything. I still haven’t forgiven you for coming up with the whole banishment idea in the first place.” There was silence for a moment. The Snob exhaled a thin wisp of smoke before crushing the cigarette into an ashtray.
“You know, the Critic’s first idea was to have you publicly tarred and feathered.” Cinema Snob let out a bitter laugh.
“I’m sure you would love seeing me humiliated like that.”
“No I wouldn’t!”
The Snob flinched at the sudden flare of anger but he kept his gaze locked onto his glass, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the counter.
“Why do you keep saying shit like that? Do you really think you mean that little to all of us? To me?” The Snob’s knuckles grew white as his grip tightened but he didn’t notice. “Do you think you’re just some joke we enjoy laughing about now that you’re gone? Everyone’s in a panic without you, you fucking idiot, they’re worried, just like I am! Actually no, they’re less worried then I am!” Phelous paused and glared at the side of Cinema Snob’s head. “Will you fucking look at me already?”
Strong hands pulled the Snob around until he was again staring into Phelous’s pained expression.
“Don’t-don’t look at me like that,” he said, already hating himself for letting events proceed as they had.
“How am I supposed to look, then?” Phelous could barely contain the emotion in his voice. “What expression do you want in order to believe that I mean everything I say?”
In response, Cinema Snob pulled Phelous into a long, hungry kiss. The force was almost strong enough to knock the Canadian off his stool, but he wrapped his arms around Cinema Snob’s back for support. The Snob’s hands were soon busy tousling Phelous’s hair, gently tracing along his neck and collarbone, dancing down his back, reaching for the buckle of his belt.
“Wait, wait,” Phelous said, pulling back for a second.
“What?” Cinema Snob was almost breathless but his eyes were clearly focused on what he wanted.
“Not here,” Phelous said, nodding toward the barman who was pretending to wash a glass at the other end of the bar.
“Come to my room,” the Snob ordered. His hands were slowly caressing Phelous’s sides, making the Canadian squirm ever so slightly. Phelous nodded and the two men dropped their money onto the counter before walking out to call for the elevator. Once the metal doors slid shut, Cinema Snob lunged again, pressing Phelous against the side of the vesicle, allowing their mouths to slide together, trying to taste as much him as he could before they reached his floor.
As he was about to lock the door to his room, Phelous put a hand on the Snob’s arm.
“I just wanted you to know,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes bright in the darkness, “that if I could have stopped the Critic I would have.”
“I know,” the Snob said, squeezing Phelous’s hand. Everything was forgotten, forgiven. “And if I could keep you here with me I would, in a heartbeat.” Their lips pressed together again and this time Cinema Snob could feel the other man’s smile.
“You seem to be handling this well.” Cinema Snob let his glass settle on the bar before he removed his cigarette and swiveled his stool in Phelous’s direction.
“And how were you expecting me to handle this?” he asked, not bothering to hide the scorn in his voice. “Did you think I would burst into tears like a fucking child who’s just been sent to his room?”
“Of course I didn’t.” Phelous’s expression was calm and for some reason this pissed the Snob off even more.
“Or maybe you thought I’d call another one of those fucking meetings in order to ‘rally the troops’ and lead them against the Critic? Well I couldn’t care less about any one of those goddamn cowards!”
“They’re not happy that you’re gone,” Phelous said. His expression remained calm but the Snob could see a flicker of something in his eyes. “They all voted for you to stay, remember?”
Cinema Snob snorted and gestured to the almost empty room. “I don’t see any of those fuckers here to console me.”
“I’m here.” The Snob allowed his stool to swivel back to its proper position, unwilling to face those eyes any longer.
“Don’t think that means anything. I still haven’t forgiven you for coming up with the whole banishment idea in the first place.” There was silence for a moment. The Snob exhaled a thin wisp of smoke before crushing the cigarette into an ashtray.
“You know, the Critic’s first idea was to have you publicly tarred and feathered.” Cinema Snob let out a bitter laugh.
“I’m sure you would love seeing me humiliated like that.”
“No I wouldn’t!”
The Snob flinched at the sudden flare of anger but he kept his gaze locked onto his glass, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the counter.
“Why do you keep saying shit like that? Do you really think you mean that little to all of us? To me?” The Snob’s knuckles grew white as his grip tightened but he didn’t notice. “Do you think you’re just some joke we enjoy laughing about now that you’re gone? Everyone’s in a panic without you, you fucking idiot, they’re worried, just like I am! Actually no, they’re less worried then I am!” Phelous paused and glared at the side of Cinema Snob’s head. “Will you fucking look at me already?”
Strong hands pulled the Snob around until he was again staring into Phelous’s pained expression.
“Don’t-don’t look at me like that,” he said, already hating himself for letting events proceed as they had.
“How am I supposed to look, then?” Phelous could barely contain the emotion in his voice. “What expression do you want in order to believe that I mean everything I say?”
In response, Cinema Snob pulled Phelous into a long, hungry kiss. The force was almost strong enough to knock the Canadian off his stool, but he wrapped his arms around Cinema Snob’s back for support. The Snob’s hands were soon busy tousling Phelous’s hair, gently tracing along his neck and collarbone, dancing down his back, reaching for the buckle of his belt.
“Wait, wait,” Phelous said, pulling back for a second.
“What?” Cinema Snob was almost breathless but his eyes were clearly focused on what he wanted.
“Not here,” Phelous said, nodding toward the barman who was pretending to wash a glass at the other end of the bar.
“Come to my room,” the Snob ordered. His hands were slowly caressing Phelous’s sides, making the Canadian squirm ever so slightly. Phelous nodded and the two men dropped their money onto the counter before walking out to call for the elevator. Once the metal doors slid shut, Cinema Snob lunged again, pressing Phelous against the side of the vesicle, allowing their mouths to slide together, trying to taste as much him as he could before they reached his floor.
As he was about to lock the door to his room, Phelous put a hand on the Snob’s arm.
“I just wanted you to know,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes bright in the darkness, “that if I could have stopped the Critic I would have.”
“I know,” the Snob said, squeezing Phelous’s hand. Everything was forgotten, forgiven. “And if I could keep you here with me I would, in a heartbeat.” Their lips pressed together again and this time Cinema Snob could feel the other man’s smile.