#polhorse

   Hol Horse threw back the last of his beer before slamming the empty mug onto the bar with a huge, satisfied sigh. It had been his fifth that night and boy, was he feeling tipsy. He rested his face in his hand, his chilled fingers bringing relief to his heated cheek, and turned to look at his exasperated boyfriend. Polnareff sat next to him, nursing a soda and watching as Hol Horse ran up the tab. Polnareff had a sort of grumpy look on his face and it made Hol Horse smile.

   “What’cha so grumpy ‘bout, darlin’?” He asked innocently, the alcohol causing his words to slur even more than his accent already did. Polnareff just pouted.

   “It’s nothing, just not a big fan of bars is all.” His attention shifted to the glass of Coke in front of him, taking a sip and swirling the straw. That was only partially true. He really wasn’t fond of drinking at bars, but he was also nervous about Hol Horse being as intoxicated as he was out in public. He could feel Hol Horse’s gaze boring into the side of his head, and from what he could see from his peripheral vision, his smile had drooped.

   “Jean, if you ain’t comfortable in here, all ya had to do was say somethin’.” His voice was drenched with concern and it made Polnareff feel a small pang of guilt in his gut. He locked eyes with Hol Horse, who looked a bit saddened. He forced a small smile.

   “Non non, I didn’t want to ruin your good time. You deserve to come out and have some beers, you’ve been working hard.” As he spoke, his smile became more soft and genuine. He had been working hard, and Polnareff was so proud. Between work and learning French and keeping in shape, Hol Horse had begun to wear himself down and he could tell. He was more than happy to help him rewind, he just wasn’t thrilled about the setting.

   “Hey now, your feelings are important too!” Hol Horse replied much louder than he needed to, catching the attention of just about every other patron of the bar and giving Polnareff’s cheeks an embarrassed blush. “If you ain’t comfortable, then we can go somewhere else! The man I wanna spend the rest of my damn life with deserves better than that!” Polnareff hadn’t gotten the chance to process those words fully before Hol Horse slapped some bills on the counter with a “Keep the change!” and dragging Polnareff from the bar by his arm.

   They walked home side by side, Hol Horse’s arm strewn across Polnareff’s shoulders so that he could help him walk without falling over. The pink had never left Polnareff’s cheeks. He glanced over at Hol Horse, who looked determined to get away from the bar, before returning his gaze to his face.

   “…Did you mean what you said?” When he was only met with a confused look, Polnareff continued. “About… about wanting to spend the rest of your life with me…?” Hol Horse stopped dead in his tracks, causing Polnareff to stumble, nearly bringing the other man down with him. Polnareff turned to look at Hol Horse and he was met with one of the most serious faces he had ever seen him make. Hol Horse reached out and took Polnareff by the face, pulling him close and resting their foreheads together.