Dexter teaching me tricks...

It's not all about the cock, Dexter's thought was only slightly patronizing, but Foster was still a little concerned about how the watchmaker's other half would react.  Although this little lesson had been Gabriel's idea, he couldn't help wondering why he had to be in the line of fire while Dexter shared information.  The mental grumbles that Dexter understood how Foster ticked more than Gabriel did had been getting distracting though.

I never thought I'd hear you say that, Gabriel commented dryly.  Dexter chose to ignore the barb, instead planting a row of soft kisses along Foster's flank, making the nurse squirm.

Are you paying attention or not?

I'm watching.  I'm wondering what's taking so long, but I'm watching.

Foster gasped as Dexter ran a hot tongue tongue across his testicles.  You've got to build up with little things.  Anybody can flip a truck, metaphorically speaking.  But with a little finesse...

You're suggesting I bring a truck to bed?

Stop being facetious.

Foster reached down and slid his hand under Dexter's chin, forcing his face up so he could look him in the eyes.  “You know,” he panted, “You two arguing is really distracting...”  

The sudden flicker of annoyance across Dexter's features served as an advance warning, but he still wasn't fast enough to get his hand clear before Gabriel took over and bit him in the thumb, hard.  “Ow! Shit!  What was that for?”

“Don't disturb my lesson,” Gabriel growled, releasing Foster's hand.  A quick inspection proved he'd bitten down to the nerves, Foster scowled at the killer while he waited for the wound to heal.  Gabriel scowled back for the briefest moment, then retreated behind Dexter.

Carry on, the killer thought, magnanimously, I'm listening.

You start small, Dexter continued, licking a tormenting trail up Foster's torso.  And then you start to build up. He found Foster's right nipple and licked over it, then blew cold air across the damp spot, making Foster gasp at the sudden hot/cold sensation.  

I've done this bit before, believe it or not.

But you need to watch, Dexter replied, turning his attentions to Foster's other nipple.  Wait until it all comes together, and he makes sense.

What the hell are you twittering on about?

Watch him.

Watching.

Dexter started to work his way down again, making Foster squirm and cry at every tiny touch, every lick.  He stopped at Foster's cock, licking from the base to the tip, not in one long swipe but instead lapping around it, as if licking a candy cane.  He sucked Foster into his mouth, forcing himself to take the whole erection, slowly engulfing it all.  Foster clenched his teeth and knotted his hands into the sheets.

I thought you said it wasn't all about cock?

Watch him.

Still watching.

Dexter pulled back again, excruciatingly slowly, hollowing his cheeks with suction.  The moment he was at the head of Foster's cock he started to push down again, taking him all.  He repeated the motion, speeding it up, making Foster keen and arch his back.

And we're still fixated on the cock?  I know this bit.

Shut up Gabriel.  I thought you wanted to learn something?

“Fuck, you two are distracting!”

Shut up you.

“Dex, I don't know what you're trying to show him, but I'm not going to last long like this,” Foster whimpered through clenched teeth.

He'll spot it in a minute, don't worry...

What am I supposed to...OH!  I get it!

“What have you seen?” Foster asked, curious suddenly.

How to make you tick differently.

Foster didn't have time to think that through, he almost screamed in frustration as Gabriel stopped the pumping motion.  The cry very nearly escaped again when he felt the watchmaker pull away from his cock entirely.  “Oh jeez, don't stop!”

Dexter grinned at him, and Foster couldn't decide if it was mischievous or evil.  He decided on evil as the watchmaker ignored his cock and started to kiss a warm trail down his leg.

“Where the hell are you going?  Dex, don't stop the blowjob!  Oh fuck!”

Don't touch yourself! Dexter's inner voice snarled.  Foster felt his wrists being pinned to the bed and it was unexpectedly erotic, Dexter wasn't usually so domineering.  Gasping, the nurse wondered what the hell was going on, even more so when he felt Dexter start to knead his toes.  It felt good, there was no denying that, but his cock was screaming for attention.  And being ignored.  Dexter kissed his ankle, tickling, then nuzzled his instep.  After a brief exploration of his toes, Dexter started to kiss up his leg again, nibbling at the skin of his thigh, nuzzling into the back of his knee.  He reached his groin and started to slowly lick across Foster's balls, delicate, excruciating, licks that made Foster almost giddy with frustration and want.  Then he claimed the nurse's erection again, slowly working his way up and down the shaft, making Foster whine and pump his hips.  Just as Foster thought he was going to come, Dexter pulled away once more.  Foster almost bit clean through his lip in frustration, filling his mouth with the hot tang of blood.

I want to taste that, Gabriel whispered in the back of Dexter's head.

Works for me, Dexter replied.  Foster groaned as Dexter leaned against him, the weight was oddly comforting, and if he squirmed he could rub his cock against Dexter's belly, it was better than nothing.  Dexter smiled at him and kissed him, a slow, hungry kiss.  Foster made a mental note to convince the watchmaker to take charge more often, even if he was a maddening tease.  He almost rethought the sentiment as Dexter pulled his belly up and away, denying Foster the relief of being able to rub against him.

“Dexter, please, please, I'm so close...”

“I know you are,” Dexter murmured, kissing gentle kisses along his throat and collar-bone.  “That's the problem.”

“It's not a problem,” Foster growled.  “You know I can be ready again in a few minutes...”

Show off.

Dexter grinned and pulled one of Foster's hands up, sucking his fingers into his mouth.  Foster gasped at the sensation, the warm tug.  He wanted that pressure wrapped back around his cock again, but he didn't know how to get Dexter to obey.  Dexter released his fingers and started to kiss down his arm.  Slow, tortuous kisses, making Foster gasp and keen and arch his back, he was taut as a bow string when Dexter started to kiss down his belly again.  

This seems almost...cruel...

Shhh...it's not.  Believe me.

“Yes it fucking is Dex!” Foster snarled.

You know I don't like it when you call me Dex...

Uh-oh, you're in trouble now, Gabriel sniggered.  Foster whimpered as Dexter's kisses changed direction, sliding back up towards his face, more importantly, away from his cock.

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” the nurse whimpered.

Too late now.  Dexter started to lick steady circles into the skin of Foster's neck, making the nurse buck and shake at the stimulation.  It felt incredible, but the sensation wasn't where he needed it to be, and consequently it was exquisite torture.  Foster whimpered and shook as Dexter started to lick his nipples again, nibbling and biting, lapping across his pectoral muscles in long swipes.  He was very carefully keeping his body away from Foster, away from his bucking hips, not allowing the nurse to thrust against him.

 

As Foster writhed, Dexter started to stroke him, gently, quick flicks of fingertips touching against his skin.  And then he got it, lost in the sensations of being touched he finally registered Dexter's hot wet mouth being wrapped around his cock again, he thrust into it, aware he was taking the watchmaker by surprise but too desperate to care and the world retracted into sensation and the stars behind his eyes.  Foster collapsed, shuddering, onto the bed, completely spent, massive aftershocks still wracking him as Dexter continued to suck, and lick, and nuzzle, forcing every last tremor of pleasure out of him.  

I think you broke him.

He'll be fine. Won't you Foster?

“Umphababballanam...”

See, completely fine...

Okaaaayyy...now what?

Now we give him a few minutes to recover...  Dexter replied.  He wiped his lower lip carefully, removing a tiny dribble of missed cum.  Foster was still shivering, trying to curl around himself protectively, form a foetal ball.

“Fuck,” the nurse whispered as soon as he'd got basic motor function back under control.  “I think my brain just blew a fuse.”

“Was it good?” purred Dexter.  He snuggled into Foster's arms, laying tiny kisses along the nurse's chest.

“Amazing.”

So what now?  Or do I have to listen to this mutual love fest until I throw up?

Now it's your turn to repeat the exercise.  Show me what you've learned...

“Gabriel,” Foster interrupted, suddenly a little panic-stricken. “If I asked you to wait a bit, give me some time...how would you react?”

“Are you asking me to leave you alone?” Gabriel growled threateningly, taking over from Dexter almost seamlessly.

“No, it's a hypothetical question.”

“I would be upset, because that would mean you don't need me, you only need Dexter.  I would be surplus to requirements.  Not special enough for you.  Are you going to ask me to leave you alone?”

Foster made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.  Gabriel dug his fingernails into the nurse's leg as he waited for the answer.  “No,” Foster whispered finally.  “Don't stop babe.”

“Whatever you want,” Gabriel purred, licking a hot trail up his thigh.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuckyoutwoaregoingtobethedeathofme...”

“Are you complaining?”

“Wouldn'tdreamofitOOOHHH!”

Good boy.

Hahaha! At his mom's place!

Dexter yelps as hand latches around his wrist and pulls him into a closet.

He tries not to cry out, tries not to attract unwanted outside attention, as he is shoved into the hanging perfume-smelling coats while Foster's hot mouth attaches to his throat; kissing and biting and doing everything right to make Dexter moan and beg.

"Please...Please..." He whimpers while Foster's teasing hand slides up his shirt to tweak at a nipple while the other presses the growing bulge in his pants.

"You'll have to be quiet," Foster huskily groans, pressing flush against Dexter's tall form while grinding his erection into a trembling thigh. "We don't want my mother to hear us."

A strangled cry dies out in Dexter's throat, horror and lust coupling in his mind; the risk of getting caught is doing strange things to his body and he can't wait any longer for Foster to be inside him.

"I'll be quiet, just hurry!" He trails sloppy kisses over Foster's face while swiftly, fumbling, undoes his lover's fly.

Foster chuckles, loving the eagerness in his Dex, and hopes his mother takes a very long time making those sandwiches.

-Dexter

Socks

Socks.

Gabriel always wore socks to bed.

Foster had no idea why he hadn't noticed before, or why he cared now, but for some reason the thought of Gabriel wearing those socks irritated him to no end.

He had tried to ask Gabriel why he never took them off but the taller man just blinked down at his toes, wriggling them beneath the white fabric.

"Why shouldn't I wear socks?" He stated with a shrug and kissed Foster to silence his thoughts.

Gabriel was soon fast asleep and Foster wide awake, having been awoken by rough socks rubbing his bare leg. He eyed the socks, then eyed Gabriel's sleepy face, and reached down to slowly slide the fabric off one of Gabriel's feet.

When his fingers brushed lightly against the sole of that foot, Gabriel's leg jerked to get free.

Foster's brow rose, a spark of glee glowed in his eyes, and he brushed his hand deliberately across Gabriel's skin and watched his lover awaken with laughter.

"You're ticklish!" He cackled as Gabriel tried twist away and Foster tickled his lover until the taller man wormed his bare foot away and pulled Foster into a rough kiss.

"Don't touch my feet!" He growled deep in his throat and Foster's throat devoured but a smirk still played across his face; he had finally found a weakness in his lover.

You owe me lunch

Gabriel just grabbed a hot dog when thin arms grabbed his waist and pulled him towards the alley. He lashed out with his arm and struck a surprised and horny Foster on the cheek.

"What the hell Peter! You just lost me my lunch!" Gabriel growled shaking Foster's insistent arms off.

"Please. Please." Foster whined, pawing Gabriel insistently. "I need you!"

"What got into you?" Gabriel asked alarmed holding him back.

"This…seducer…fuck. Need you!" Foster panted rubbing against Gabriel, undoing his pants.

Gabriel sighed, irritated, "You owe me lunch after."

Look alikes.

So Foster, Gallow, and I were walking through a store looking for stuff for the playroom I'm working on. We were just casually strolling through the store when some random chick stared at me and clasped her hands over her mouth in shock. She left the aisle abruptly only to return with what appeared to be her buddy. 

"I told you Zachary Quinto is gay!" She said accusingly. Foster turned away from us and held back a snicker. 

"My name isn't Zachary." I said in an attempt to set the teen straight.

She looked at me disbelievingly. "Uh huh, sure it isn't."

Gallow tugged at my pant leg, "Daddy who's she?" 

"I don't know kiddo." I have been confused for whoever this Zachary dude is far too many times and have become sort of experienced in dealing with these types of situations. But I've never had any one else with me, leaving me a whole new area for exploration. 

"My name is Gabriel." I said in last effort. 

She looked at her friend and started jumping they were simply giddy about meeting whoever the hell they thought I was. 

"Can I get your autograph?" The one girl beamed. 

I looked down at Gallow who was peeking out from in between my legs. Foster looked content just watching the scene unravel before him. "Foster why don't you and Gallow go look at some games." 

Foster realized that was his cue to leave and took Gallow by the hand to the nearest toy aisle. I looked back at the two girls who were practically squealing from excitement. Scary. 

Speak Gabriel! Don't make me come out there! "I don't know who this Zachary dude is but I'm not him." 

It took my driver's license, my social security card, my birth certificate, and a business card, before I convinced them that I wasn't Zachary Quinto. My my my these girls are persistent. 

They were pretty embarrassed. What the fuck do I do know? I made up my mind, gave them an autograph and they walked away laughing nervously. 

Wow. Okay. Foster ...and Gallow. Toys.

Gabriel. 

I don't know who the hell she was talking about but I can assure you I'm not him. 

My dearest father...

His vision is swimming.

Gabriel's befuddled, and he can feel the blood pounding in his ears with each conscious breath he takes. His face feels wet, and for a moment he can't remember why. His body is jolted, and he comes to completely.

It was closing in on two, and his father still wasn't home. His wife had long gone to bed, used to her husband’s little trysts that kept him late. However, his son, still at home, was very much awake, in the middle of a furious debate with himself about the pros and cons of taking a medical training course the local school was offering. A crash from downstairs jerks him from his thoughts, and he tiptoes from his bedroom, peering over the banister to the floor below.

His father is home now, righting himself after seemingly tripping over the coat rack in a poor, or perhaps frustrated?, attempt to hang his coat. Turning, he seems aware he's being watched, and glares upward. Dexter flinches back, but not quick enough. 

"Dexter!" 

"...yes sir?" He peers back over the banister. He's clopping up the stairs now, his face red and the smell clinging to his suit is rancid.

"You stink. How much have you had to drink?" Dexter asks without thinking.

The stench is over powering, his nostrils burning, adding to the painful coiling in his stomach. It makes him want to throw up, but he hasn't eaten since that afternoon, and he heaves and splutters, his mouth dry. His empty stomach can churn out nothing. 

Father pauses for a moment, then silently pushes past his son, half stumbling toward the bathroom half way down the hall. Dexter lingers outside the door, waiting for his father to finish relieving himself, and half wonders if he should take this opportunity to sneak back into his bedroom and pretend he hadn't been out of it in the first place. 

Before Dexter could so much as move, his father reemerges from the bathroom, and takes hold of Dexter's shirt. "You." he says simply. Dexter swallows thickly, trying not to look nervous. It's an almost impossible feat, his father simply looking at you was enough to intimidate you, but coupled with alcohol and Dexter trembled where he stood. 

"Why aren't you asleep, boy, it's a school night." He slurs. Dexter's eyes dart around, looking for some form of escape. There is none.

"I was uh, working on a school assignment." he says lamely. Father shakes him by the collar, striding forward into Dexter's bedroom. "Doesn't look like it to me." he grumbles, swinging his son around and shoving him toward his bed, where he sits obediently. He picks up a book Gabriel had been looking at. Splashed on its gold and purple pages it tells of the benefits of taking the course. "What's this trash?" His father asks, dropping the paper into the waste bin. 

Quickly, Dexter snatches it back out, but quicker than he the back of father's hand comes into contact with his face. 

Gabriel flinches and ducks. 

Another jolt and Dexter is sobbing again. He claws at hands holding him firmly in place, but he's too exhausted to pry the fingers loose, and his body aches with every movement. 

Realizing his mistake too late, Dexter's now curled on the bed, nursing his bruised jaw. It was still healing from a previous fracture, but this time he suspects its broken. It hurts too much to not be. 

"You're mine." Father is slurring, reaching for Gabriel and grappling with him a moment before he's got the boy overpowered. "What you need..." his speech is slurring more, but his eyes speak of lucidity. Gabriel is struggling now, and whatever his father is telling him is falling on deaf ears. "Le-let--" he starts to say, but Father's pressing a hand to his throat now, holding him still. Gabriel rasps for air, effectively distracted from the other hand, pressing painfully against every soft spot on Gabriel's chest. 

Yet when he feels the material drag against his hips, he lets out a strangled cry. Father is crushing his windpipe now, and he can't breathe. His vision swims and his struggling weakens, then ceases completely. He's aware he can no longer form a coherent thought, black spots popping into his vision, and his eyes close part way. Suddenly, for a fleeting moment, he becomes aware of the pressure in his lower back, but before he can fully wrap his head around whats happening to him, the pain creeps up on him, paralyzing him and making it that much easier to black out. He does.

Suddenly the hands are gone, the offending stench is receding, and Gabriel is alone. His stomach aches, and his body is covered in a layer of sweat, his face an extra layer with what he will only admit to himself are tears. Rolling onto his side, he lets out a pained breath. Nothing but quality time with daddy dearest.

Sorry

I still feel really bad for what Dexter did. It's getting hard not to think about it. I'm sorry and I'm worried that people won't forgive me. I'm just really sorry. 

The orphanage shooting

A scene of carnage greets Foster and Gabriel as they enter the ruins of what used to be a tall, proud building. Apparently, two deranged men had cracked the computer codes and entered the orphanage. They managed to kill twenty of the city's best and brightest young minds.

Gabriel, of course, was devastated by the loss of bonds. It was like reliving the Battlefront all over again…

"Foster, I regret to inform you that we could not save them all." The man's posture was very stiff.

"It wasn't your fault, Gabriel," Foster soothed. "You did the best you could."

Gabriel shook his head. "So why do I feel like it is my fault?"

"Because you care about all life. Because you're vulnerable when any kind of bonds are broken. Because you know that it might have been prevented."

"Peter, I would have gladly sacrificed my life for any of those orphans." It hurt Foster's heart just to think about that happening, but he was touched by his lover's sincerity.

"I know, Gabriel." Foster pulled his husband into his arms and just let Gabriel shake in his arms. Tiny cries escaped the man. "I'm here."

"You won't always be here!" Gabriel roared, pulling away from the warm embrace. "I could lose you at any time! What would happen to this, to everyone if you were killed in action, our bond broke, and I was the one left behind?"

"You would carry on," Foster said firmly. "Because you would know that is what I'd want you to do."

"I couldn't do it without you," Gabriel choked out.

"Yes you could." Foster glared at his mate.

"Yes, I could," Gabriel finally admitted. "But I would not enjoy it."

"That's what commitment is about," Foster said wisely.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel like simply mourning for those children isn't enough. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Meditate on what has happened. And whatever you do, don't build up a mental block and try to forget."

"Why shouldn't I?" Gabriel growled. "It would be easier."

"A wise author once said that you have to choose between what is easy and what is right."

"Do not quote literature to me," Gabriel spat, but Foster could tell from the bond that he was beginning to calm down. "I am just so, so angry at those who committed such an atrocious crime."

"Me too," Foster said diplomatically.

"You don't act like it," Gabriel pointed out.

"No. I also don't feel as deeply as you do."

"Right…" Gabriel let out a tiny sigh. "I suppose I could contact Miss Emma so that we can make plans to modify the outdated technology on the orphanage so that-"

"This will never happen again?" Foster interrupted.

"It may happen again," Gabriel said softly. "But I wish to reduce the chances."

"Very well, Mr. Jaro." They shared a quick finger kiss, a mere brushing of the forefingers. "Carry on."

Oh god! Homophobes!

"Here we are!" Foster announced. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow.

"Where is here, precisely? You have been quite tight-lipped as to the location of our destination."

"You could've just picked it from my brain," Foster pointed out.

"I would not invade your private thoughts without your permission." Gabriel sounded affronted.

"I know," Foster said softly. He looked around, seeing only the lights of the fair in the distance. They were relatively alone. So he rested his forehead against Gabriel's and closed his eyes, thankful for even just a moment's peace with his husband.

"Foster, I appreciate your gestures of affection, no matter where or what our destination."

"I'll give you a hint, it's much more fun than a museum," Foster said with a laugh, before brushing his fingers over Gabriel's. His lover returned the gentle kiss.

"Perhaps I could persuade you?" Gabriel whispered in his ear. But to his dismay, Foster pulled back.

"Oh no you don't," he laughed. "I have a full day planned out for us, and there isn't going to be any funny business until tonight. It's the least I can do after what you put me through last time with the museum."

"Very well," Gabriel relented. Foster handed him a black fedora.

"I want you to stick out."

"Most curious," he commented, but put the hat on anyway. Foster thought he looked positively adorable. Gabriel did not agree.

"That is not the adjective I would use to describe-"

"Too bad." Foster smugly interrupted. "You're adorable, and you know it!"

In protest, Gabriel walked exactly three paces away from Foster the rest of the way.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the hotel. Gabriel had come around, and side by side, they strolled up to the desk.

"Hi." Foster smiled charmingly at the fellow behind the desk.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you?"

"You don't know who I am?" Foster could tell the clerk had no signs of recognition. Oh well, he was just doing his job. It was kind of nice not being recognized for a change. Leaning casually against the desk, he explained.

"The name's Foster. I reserved the honeymoon suite for me and my bondmate?"

My bondmate and I. Gabriel mentally corrected. Inwardly, Foster groaned. As much as he loved being with Gabriel, there were a few unusual drawbacks. Like having a grammar Nazi in his head.

You shush. When people speak, they say that. His husband shared his skepticism.

Illogical.

Rolling his eyes, Foster focused his attention back on the desk attendant.

"What's a bondmate?" The clerk asked, genuinely confused.

"Wow, you're really good about staying in character!" Foster cheered. "Your reaction was so 19th century!" The man shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Foster gestured between himself and his lover.

"He's with me, we're together." The clerk frowned, suspiciously glancing from Foster to Gabriel.

"You're close friends?" Foster rolled his eyes. Did he have to spell it out for the guy?

"By your standards, he's my husband." The clerk took a step back from Foster, as if he had some sort of contagious disease and he didn't want to become infected.

"That's illegal."

Foster laughed. 

"Gabriel, is he a great actor or what?" Foster enthused, patting the disturbed attendant on the back. "That's certainly a historically accurate reaction, although it's unfortunate it had to be that way during this time. They have such cool gadgets!" He pointed to the man's antique dial phone.

Foster, I am not entirely certain he is acting. Gabriel cautioned. His reactions seem to be genuine.

Of course he's acting. We're on base, in the middle of a Retro Fair. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

So that is the secret destination. Perhaps he is homophobic?

In the 19th century? Foster scoffed. Highly unlikely. And especially not to two of New York's finest!

"Sir, I don't know what the hell you're trying to pull, but if you're one of them homos, I'm going to have to ask you to leave or be escorted from this fine establishment." Foster chuckled. This guy didn't know when to quit!

"Uh yeah, seriously though." Foster cleared his throat. "I'd like the room key now. We've had a long day and we'd really like to relax before we hit the fair."

"Security," the clerk barked into his walkie-talkie. "We have a code F-A-G at the front desk. I repeat, we have a code F-A-G." Foster burst out laughing.

"Oh man, this is too hilarious!"

"Love, I do not believe the man is joking," Gabriel warned. "Perhaps we should leave."

"Gabriel, it's just a ruse!" Foster insisted. But when ten police officers stormed into the hotel and formed a circle around them, the older man realized that Gabriel was right. Dammit.

"Put your hands where we can see them!" One of the policemen yelled. "And don't try any funny business."

Foster thought about fighting his way out of the circle, but decided to ask his husband's opinion first because he was considerate like that.

I think we can take 'em, Gabriel! The other shook his head.

No, Foster. I cannot call attention to myself at this time. It would be breaking the code.

Foster mentally grumbled.

"Come with me, you two," the town sheriff ordered, as two police put them in handcuffs.

"Ooh, hand cuffs!" Foster winked at his lover. "Kinky!" Gabriel closed his eyes and fervently wished he was someplace else.

"Hey blue eyes!" One of the policemen addressed Foster. "Do us a favor and shut your pie hole!"

Gabriel, are you going to let him talk to me that way? Foster pretended to feel hurt, hoping to get some sympathy from his bondmate.

At the moment, yes. No such luck.

"Damn Californian faggots think their marriages are legal in the south," commented another policemen.

"I don't know where you two are from, but we don't allow that sort of behavior in our town." The sheriff glared at Foster. "Perhaps a night in jail might set you straight."

"Good one, sir!" The policemen high-fived him over the pun.

Foster, it seems we are being transported to jail. Gabriel pointed out, much to his husband's dismay.

Really, genius? Came Foster's sarcastic reply.

Foster and Gabriel continued to banter telepathically as the police dragged them away.

"I do not believe spending the day in jail is an improvement over the museum," Gabriel mused, sounding quite smug. Foster groaned.

"Thanks, Gabriel. That really helps." After examining the solid bars, he paced back and forth in his cell.

"Being separated from you was not how I envisioned spending today." Foster gazed at his husband from across the room. Those bastards hadn't even had the decency to lock them in the same cell! At least they could still touch with their minds…

"I'm sorry, Gabriel," the man sighed, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache. "I had this romantic weekend all planned out for us, and it blew up in my face."

"It is not your fault, Peter," the other reassured him.

"No, I guess not." Foster bit his lip. Intellectually, he knew that he wasn't to blame for the mishap, but he still felt guilty.

"Foster, do you have any idea how we are going to escape?" Foster shook his head.

They sat in silence for a half hour, until the sheriff returned, this time accompanied by a priest.

"Are you going to let us go?" Foster asked hopefully, as they came in view of his cell.

"We've decided give you the opportunity to leave, should you decide to repent," said the sheriff. The priest gazed on Foster and Gabriel with pity.

"You can still return to the light!" The priest insisted. "Do you two confess your sins to almighty God?" Foster shook his head in disbelief.

"Since when is love between two consenting adults a sin?" Under his breath, he muttered, "this shit is exactly why your religion pretty much died out."

"But to love a man as one loves a woman is an abomination!" The priest whined.

"Leviticus, 18:22." His husband piped up from the opposite side of the room. Foster smacked his forehead - it figured Gabriel would know that.

"Thanks, Gabriel. Way to be." The priest turned to Gabriel in surprise.

"You are familiar with the Bible?"

"Only certain verses," Gabriel replied. "My foster mother taught me when I was very young. She praised the stories that taught morals, but insisted that verses such as those were outdated."

"The Bible is timeless," the priest said with much dignity.

"That may be, but I don't know how you can use the Bible to justify your cause," Foster cut in. "Your guy Jesus hung out with the outcasts of his day, the prostitutes, the whores, the lepers. He was all about treating everyone fairly, especially those whom society deemed as 'different'. He never would've supported this campaign of hate. You guys are a bunch of hypocrites!"

"Indeed," Gabriel stood up for his bonded. "The Bible states that it is perfectly acceptable to own slaves and for men to rule over their wives, but those practices have since been outlawed on grounds of being outdated, have they not?"

"And Leviticus also says that guys can't have sex with girls who were on their periods," Foster added. "Can you imagine if that was still enforced today?"

"Most illogical," Gabriel muttered.

"He does have a point there," one of the policemen pointed out. "My wife and I sure would hate it if-"

"Quiet!" The priest growled. Gabriel was still stuck on the period thing.

"Can you imagine if Emma heard me saying that?" He shuddered. "My balls would be sore for a week!"

After a night in jail...

The cell doors unlocked and they swung open.

Impulsively, Gabriel grabbed Foster's hand with his left and gave the Vulcan salute with his right.

"May you all live long and prosper."

"Translation: good riddance!" Foster sang. Then he turned toward his lover and headed out the door. "Hey, Gabriel, do you want to top or bottom when we get back?" The man considered it. Usually he wouldn't dignify Foster's crude question with an answer, but it would be amusing to see the priest's reaction."

"I believe we can take turns, Foster."

"May God have mercy on your souls!" Cried the priest, making the sign of the cross. Foster burst into laughter as the jail disappeared from sight. He was still chortling when they arrived back at the apartment.

"Are you two alright?" Jayden cried, standing by with a medical kit.

"I'm fine," Foster laughed.

"Affirmative," Gabriel answered. "I am pleased to have returned to an accepting culture..." He trailed off, staring at Foster, who was still chuckling.

"What's so funny, Foster?" Kevin asked, which set off another round of guffaws.

"That priest!" Foster wheezed. "Oh man. If only he could hear how ridiculous his arguments against same-sex sounded."

"You met a priest?" Jayden gulped. "With GABRIEL?" Foster gave his friend a wide grin.

"Yep."

"God help us all," the doctor muttered. "Did he know you two were married?"

"Well, he was summoned to pardon us from jail if we repented for our 'sin'."

Jayden winced. That couldn't have ended well.

"Dammit, Foster! What else happened?"

"I'll tell you everything later, Jay," Foster promised. "Right now me and Gabriel –" he paused, glancing over at his bondmate, "sorry, Gabriel and I, are going to celebrate gay pride in our quarters."

"But Foster, I can't perform the required medical exam of our prisoner until you fill out the paperwork." Jayden protested. Foster shook his head.

"Right now I only have one thing on my mind." Since it was just Jayden and Kevin with them in the lobby, Foster extended his two forefingers to his lover. Gabriel returned the kiss, and allowed himself to gaze into his lover's eyes.

"Aww, Doctor, he can attend to the paperwork later," Kevin pleaded. "It is Gay Pride Month, after all. After what they've been through, they deserve a little time alone."

"Well… oh, alright," Jay relented. He grumbled something about 'hobgoblin interference', but Foster just ignored it.

"Thanks, Jay!" Foster's smile grew wider.

Foster elaborated. "And if you don't mind, boys, don't contact us-"

"…unless there's an emergency," Jayden and Kevin finished. Foster looked surprised, but quickly turned his expression into a smirk.

"Boy, do I have a well trained group or what?" With one last wink at his friends, Foster trotted after Gabriel down the corridor and toward their room.

Alone at last! Foster thought as he and Gabriel began to unwind from their ordeal in jail. It was strange. He couldn't imagine him and Gabriel living in a place where their love would've been seen as illegal and an abomination...

"Foster?" Gabriel asked, penetrating his thoughts. Foster smiled as he was brought back to the present. He had his Gabriel, they were in love, and they didn't have to hide it.

"Yes, love?" Gabriel gazed at his husband across the room.

"Tell me what is bothering you."

"I'm sorry I didn't just take you to a museum like you originally suggested," Foster said in rush. He groaned in frustration, wishing he'd never thought of the getaway weekend at a Retro Fair.

"Oh, but I am visiting a museum today," Gabriel purred, removing his shirt and folding it neatly.

"You are?" Foster asked, incredulous, as he removed his uniform and tossed it on his side of their room. "When?"

"I am having a private viewing of the prime exhibit," his lover explained.

"Ah, I see," Foster smirked, catching on. He approached Gabriel with an exaggerated swagger. "Is this one of those stuffy museums with all those rules about how you can't touch anything?"

"Negative, Peter. There will be a thorough tactile exploration of the exhibit," Gabriel promised, as his arms crept up Foster's chest.

"Oh good," Foster moaned in anticipation as Gabriel's fingers ghosted over his nipples. "I think I'll actually like this museum."

"If you do, we could always visit it again," Gabriel offered. Foster blinded him with his sunny smile. Just before their lips met, he said,

"That, Gabriel, is the most logical idea you've had all day."

At the big top

It was interesting to say the least. Foster is obsessed with elephants which I find kind of funny. We did actually take my nephews with. They kept screaming for the tigers. 

Photo credit does go to Foster because I'm not very handy with a camera. At all. 

The wedding. :D I'm too giddy!

Mood:Giddy

"Will you stop fussing," Foster scolded his lover gently, watching the taller man redo his bow tie for the fifteenth time, looking anxiously into the mirror, "I promise you it looked fine, you're going to wrinkle it if you keep undoing and retying it."

"It was crooked," Gabriel mumbled, long fingers nervously manipulating the uncooperative bow.

Foster just sighed and shook his head, grabbing his dress shoes from the closet and sitting on the end of the bed to put them on.

He heard his fiancé sigh in frustration and the zip of the silky fabric as he pulled the bowtie loose again.

Fiancé. Foster couldn't help but grin at the thought. Even if said fiancé was currently driving him crazy with his obsessive demand of perfection from his bowtie.

"Oh for God's sake, stop it," Foster gruffed, finishing tying his shoes sharply and standing.

He reached Gabriel's side just he finished tying it again, and Foster could tell by the frustrated crease between his lover's eyebrows that he was two seconds away from undoing it again.

"Come here," Foster demanded, grabbing Gabriel's lapels and turning him to face him.

Gabriel sighed with quiet exasperation as Foster gently pulled and manipulated the finished bowtie to lay flat and even.

"What's wrong love?" he asked quietly as he worked, and Gabriel sighed, gently resting his hands on Foster's slender hips.

He was quiet for a long moment and Foster opened his mouth to ask again when Gabriel softly admitted, "I'm nervous," eyes fixed unseeingly somewhere over Foster's left shoulder.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet," Foster only half joked, an uncomfortable weight settling in the pit of his stomach at the thought.

"No, no, nothing like that," Gabriel assured him quickly, "It's just…"

He sighed heavily through his nose before continuing, "I know you've forgiven me about the past. But your family hasn't."

Foster swallowed hard, eyes trained fixedly on Gabriel's tie as he listened.

"I took your brother from you," he added quietly, hands tightening subtlety on Foster's hips, "I won't take the rest of your family."

Foster listened wordlessly, cursing in his head when tears welled and threatened to spill.

This had been something they'd been struggling with from the beginning, and it wasn't getting much easier to deal with.

He finished with Gabriel's tie, cleared his throat softly as he tried to regain composure and started to pull away, but Gabriel would have none of it.

He pulled Foster tight to him, took hold of his jaw and kissed him; his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

Foster took a shuddering breath and Gabriel held him a little tighter, pressed their foreheads together and spoke softly to him, "Talk to me Peter."

"I don't care what they think," Foster said, tried to put conviction into his voice, "I won't let them ruin this."

"You care Foster," Gabriel replied gently, thumb rubbing comfortingly at the small of his back, "you don't want to care what they think, but you do."

"Using your lie detection on me is cheating," Foster sniffed.

Gabriel chuckled and Foster felt it rumble in his chest, "I don't need to. I just know you," he murmured and kissed Foster's forehead sweetly.

"I love you," Foster sighed, pressed his cheek against Gabriel's shoulder and wrapped his arms a little tighter.

"I love you too," Gabriel replied, resting his chin on the top of Foster's head, warm breath tickling Foster's scalp.

Foster was about to tilt his head up for a kiss when a loud chirp emanated from his nightstand.

He groaned, pressed his face into Gabriel's shoulder with a heavy sigh.

"Phone," came his muffled voice.

He detached from Gabriel unhappily, sat down on the bed to read the message.

His eyes widened, mouth open in shock and Gabriel was next to him in an instant, plucking the phone from his lax fingers.

"'Thought you should be warned that your mother's going to wear black to the wedding. Pink ok for me? –Martha.' Well, I'll be damned," Gabriel muttered, "miracles do happen."

Foster looked up at him, still too stunned for a proper reaction.

"Tell her that's fine," Foster said softly, and Gabriel typed a quick reply before putting the phone down to kneel in front of him.

"You ok?" he asked, a concerned crease between his thick eyebrows and finally Foster smiled.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Gabriel smiled in return and leaned in to kiss him.

Foster grinned against his mouth, wrapped his arms around Gabriel's neck and pulled the taller man forward onto him on the bed, bodies pressed close and warm and Gabriel gave a little moan into his mouth.

"We're supposed to be getting ready," he managed to pull away enough to say, and Foster scoffed.

"It's not like they can start without us," he replied, and Gabriel started laughing, sprinkled Foster's face with kisses and Foster slid his finger into Gabriel's hair to hold him still and kiss his mouth.

"You're too cute Peter Pan," he murmured with a grin, and Foster made to shut him up with a kiss-

Tap tap tap!

There was a knock on the door and Foster groaned, head thumping back against the mattress wearily.

"Figures," he sighed, and Gabriel laughed again, looking in the direction of the door.

"It's Emma," he informed Foster before gently detaching himself as the door clicked open.

Foster stayed on the bed as Gabriel went to greet her.

She came in wearing a pretty green dress and her hair up in an elegant twist at the back of her head, grinning sweetly at them.

She accepted Gabriel's kiss on the cheek before turning to Foster with a raised eyebrow and hands on her hips.

"Aren't you two ready yet?" she asked, "You're going to be late to your own wedding!"

Gabriel grinned at Foster before touching Emma's shoulder to get her attention.

"Sorry," he told her, "we got… distracted."

She rolled her eyes but still smiled amusedly as she ordered, "Well, get undistracted so we can go!"

"Yes ma'am," Gabriel saluted obediently and she whacked him on the shoulder playfully as the two men grabbed their jackets, made last minute tweaks to their bowties, smoothed any out-of-place hair, and stood ready for inspection.

Emma looked them both over with a critical eye.

"Gorgeous," she finally declared, then opened the apartment door to grandly gesture them out.

Gabriel slid his hand into Foster's and entwined their fingers lovingly.

"Ready?" he asked, and Foster couldn't help but smile.

"Let's get married."