Saturday, December 6th

2:47 a.m.  I can't sleep.  It's been happening more and more lately.  Awake at odd hours of the night.  Catching naps during the day.  I wondered when this odd emotional roller coaster I'd been riding lately would begin to even out.  In this case, however, it worked in Lach's favor.  He had to be up at 3 to be ready for the 4:30 a.m. departure on his flight back across the pond to pick up the rest of the family.

With a smile, I reached over him and clicked off the alarm.  I had a much more pleasant way of waking him in mind than the rude bleating of an alarm clock.  He'd already kicked off the covers some time ago but I drew back the light sheet and for a moment, simply drank in the sight of him.  Sprawled on his back in the center of the bed, arm above his head, snoring softly.  I used to think I'd find the noise annoying.  Now I can't sleep well without it.  His wide chest rose and fell evenly and I smiled at the way his fingers twitched in response as I finished drawing back the sheet.

He's a beautiful man, even in repose.  Maybe especially in repose... when he's quiet and at peace.  So at ease in a body that is at once strong and gentle.  His body is all sharp angles and heavy muscles.  My eyes wandered lower.  He was soft, his genitals a plump droop resting on his right thigh.  I scooted down and nuzzled him first, breathing in the heady masculine scent of him that was so strong there before I took him into my mouth.  I love those first few seconds before his body begins to respond to me.  That is the only time I can take all of him and for a few brief moments, I gloried in it, feeling the soft flesh begin to grow as I swirled my tongue around it. 

In seconds he was too big to take comfortably and I pulled back, giving him my most intimate kiss before I started moving how I know he likes.  He grunted softly in his sleep and moved under me restlessly as the pleasure became more intense.  I love to love him this way, when he's unable to exert the normal control he has over his body, when he's not focused on my pleasure, when he feels no pressure to perform, when he's simply responding to something that feels good.

Within minutes, his hips were rocking gently and his hand had slipped into my hair.  An extension of his erotic dreamscape, subconsciously assuring he didn't lose the pleasure he was receiving.  I knew as he moved toward wakefulness, the way he touched me would change, would become the touch of a man wanting to make an emotional connection with the woman he loved as much as it was an automatic response to physical stimulus. 

These were some of my favorite moments, when he was more tired than usual and it took him longer to bridge that connection between the sleeping world and the waking one, when I got to experience his naked response to my touch without the veil of his consciousness tempering the natural desire of his body to find release.  Usually he wakes before he comes and cradles my neck in his big palm while he accepts the pleasure I give him with a passivity he doesn't exhibit with me except in that twilight place between sleeping and waking.  But this morning, the long flight had taken its toll.

He'd barely begun the slow journey toward consciousness when I felt him tense and shudder under me.  I felt the pulse of life against my tongue, heard his heavy breathing become a deep groan as I tasted his pleasure.  His hand tightened convulsively in my hair and then relaxed in that lethargic euphoria that followed his release.  I felt a surge of pride, of feminine power that I could give him such pleasure.

I was moving back up his body when his eyes opened.  "Blue?"  His gaze was unfocused and a little glassy and I enjoyed watching that spark of realization flare as he looked from his wet flesh to my wet mouth.  "I thought it was a dream...."  He opened his arms to me and I snuggled into his solid strength, content to do nothing more than burrow into him and feel him surround me. 

We lay there for a little while, awake but silent, before he turned us until I was on my back and he was lying at my side.  Our eyes met.  He brushed my lips with this thumb and then kissed me deeply, deliberately sharing in the pungent flavor that still lingered in my mouth, a blending of us.  I felt his hand touch my neck and then drift lower, cupping my breast and then sliding lower still.  It paused its southward journey at my stomach and he lifted his mouth from mine.  "Ever and always, Blue."

I sighed into his lips.  "Ever and always my selkie man."  I giggled as his touch became less a caress and more a tickle.  "Good morning to you too, wing nut." 

He chuckled as his fingers ranged lower and he kissed me again.  "Hell of a wake up call, that's for certain, love."  His eyes flicked regretfully to the clock and he pulled a face.  There wasn't time for him to stay and love me as he wanted.  I'd purposefully let him sleep.  He needed it.  He was cutting it close already.  His flight bag was packed and sitting by the door and I'd set out his clothes over the back of the chair last night.  He'd barely have enough time to shower and throw on his clothes before Phil was due to arrive to pick him up on his way to the airport.

He kissed me again and with a reluctant sigh, heaved himself from the bed.  I rolled into the warm spot his body had left and hugged the pillow that held his scent.  He shook his head in amusement but I could see the warm flare of emotion in his eyes.  With tender care, he pulled the covers back up over me and headed for the bathroom.  I don't even remember hearing the shower run.  A wave of sleepiness had swamped me where I'd been wide awake only minutes before and the next thing I remember was smelling the clean scent of his cologne and feeling the brush of his stubble as he kissed me goodbye and hefted his bag over his shoulder.  We shared a few private words, his were soft and mine were sleepy and then he was gone.

I woke several hours later, disoriented for a moment with that spinny feeling you get when you sit up too fast and you're not quite sure where the hell you are.  It came back to me in a rush.  So did the urge to pee.  Lach had insisted drinking a lot of water would fight the body's natural tendency to become dehydrated after such a long flight but now all I could think of was how much I was going to cuss him out if Hando and Teener were occupying the shower when I was in such dire need of the facilities. 

Thankfully they weren't... but I got a good giggle over the two sets of wet footprints, one large and one small, that led from the shower to their adjoining door.  Heh.  I felt a pang of longing for Lach, said a quick prayer that he was safe wherever he was and returned to our room.  It felt empty without him.  I felt his absence all the more acutely knowing that the house would be filled with couples today.  Terry and Uma.  Hando and Teener.  Bud and Darce.  Jeff and Paul.  That left Dino and I as the drifters, which I felt a little iffy about, given that this was Terry's home. 

He was accepting of our relationship to a point, but I wouldn't flaunt it in front of Terry any more than I'd flaunt my relationship with Terry in front of Dino.  And to be honest, in group gatherings such as these, I felt most comfortable with Lachlan even if I knew we both might seek out one or two of the others for a few intimate moments all our own. 

Thankfully, I knew today would be a little more subdued than usual as everyone recovered from the jetlag and we all settled in and became more comfortable with the odd dynamics that had been going on lately with everyone....Hando and Teener's marriage, Terry's revelations, Uma's revelations, the new equilibrium Darcy and Bud seemed to have reached with Izzy and Cort, and of course, my revelation that I'd known a version of Dino in my portal.  It seemed most of us had some sort of tentative beginning going on and I knew that was bound to affect this strange family of ours.

I spent a quiet morning visiting with everyone, sipping tea in the kitchen with the girls and flirting shamelessly with the boys.  Uma and I managed to have a nice long chat while I lent a hand in the kitchen.  I'm no gourmet chef, but I do take direction well... and lucky for us all, Uma's more than capable of giving it.  Heh.  The birthday boy was in high demand and I didn't get to spend much time with him.  I hadn't expected to and I was kind of glad.  I still wasn't too sure how we'd be with each other in the wake of all that had happened between us recently and I was in no hurry to sort that out.  Besides, I was enjoying watching Terry soak up all the attention and the way his eyes kept following Darcy just gave me the giggles.  It was good seeing him so relaxed and happy.

The highlight of my day was when Lach called, saying he'd made it stateside and was going to crash for the required number of hours before he flew the rest of the gang over.  He sounded tired but happy and though I wanted to talk a while, I knew he needed to sleep and I hung up shortly after assuring him I was fine and having a good time.  Hearing all the laughter and camaraderie around me, I felt an ache in my chest when he mumbled a sleepy, 'I love you' and hung up, but I knew I'd be seeing him again soon, just as I knew the pieces of him I carried inside me would sustain me until he returned.

I returned downstairs and found Uma making milkshakes in the kitchen.  Suddenly starving hungry and feeling giddy over Terry's coming birthday and by the Christmassy holiday feeling their home exuded as well, I had the urge to make a peppermint milkshake.  It happens every year, my craving for all those foods I only ever eat during the holidays; sparking cider, eggnog, peppermint candy canes.... 

And God, you should have seen the face Terry made when I snitched a couple of those little candy canes from the decorative dish on the table and tossed them in my shake instead of the chocolate that everyone else was having.  I have to say, though, if the look on his face was any indication, he rather enjoyed the minty kiss he got afterwards.  Hey!  Tis the season!  Heh.

Dinner was enjoyable but quiet.  I don't know about anyone else, but I was certainly feeling the jetlag even after the catnap I'd stolen between lunch and dinner.  I went to bed early (although I doubt it was for the same reason a few of the other couples retired early!) but I was downstairs again a little while later, hunting through the pantry in my pajamas while I waited for my tea to steep.  I scared up a delightful looking tin of shortbread cookies and couldn't resist eating one with my tea.  It tasted divine with the delicate flavor of the chamomile but even that didn't make sleep come any easier. 

Back in my room, I tossed and turned for a while and then finally gave up.  The thought of crawling into bed with Hando crossed my mind.  Fleetingly.  He was just a door away but not only did I not want to freak out Teener, I also didn't think it was wise to tempt such a volatile Brother.  He had a hard enough time keeping a rein on his threesome fantasies as it was.  The last thing he needed was someone adding fuel to the fire, especially now.  I giggled to myself as I imagined his reaction.  God, I am so bad.     

My decision finally made, I pulled my long coat on over my satiny pajamas, wriggled into my slippers and made my way downstairs.  The house was dark and quiet but I did manage to disturb Jeff and Paul who'd stayed late to watch the tail end of some sort of sporting match....don't even ask me to tell you what it was.  I can't tell you anything beyond how cute all those men looked running around in their shorts.

Actually, what could have been a potentially embarrassing moment (young men... we all know how they can be!) was really rather sweet.  Paul was asleep with his head in Jeff's lap.  Jeff took in my attire, smiled at me from behind the finger he'd touched to his lips, looked his watch and gave me the 'gimmie five minutes' gesture.  When I came back in, they were awake and getting ready to go.  Without even turning a hair, Jeff asked me if I wanted a lift back to the hotel.  Am I that obvious, Diary?

It was after eleven when I knocked on Dino's door.  For half a minute I was afraid I might have disturbed him inflagrante delicto.  I'd done a mental head count of the Sisters but that didn't necessarily mean I'd find him alone, you know?  Just as I was beginning to chastise myself for being so impulsive, the door opened to reveal him standing there, looking sleep rumpled with his hair all mussed up and wearing a pair of jeans he'd obviously just thrown on.  They weren't even buttoned.

I looked at him.  He looked at me.  An impossibly long moment passed between us and then he simply opened the door wider in invitation and stepped back.  Neither of us said anything.  He closed the door behind me and took my coat before he shucked off his jeans and we crawled into bed together.  No jokes.  No fantasies.  No games.  Those things have never been a part of what we really are to each other.  The part I don't write about. 

Sunday, December 7th

I'm not going to tell you what happened with Dino.  I'm only going to say that he called me a cab and saw me safely back to the Thorne residence before Lach stumbled back in the door a little after 4 am.  He was exhausted.  I simply stripped him, got him the glass of water he asked for and pulled the covers back up over us both.  He put his head on my breast, wrapped his arm around my middle and pulled me close.  He was out like a light barely a minute later.

He was still dead to the world when the smell of cooking food woke me a few hours later.  Well, that and Lach had hogged all the covers.  Good thing he radiates heat like a furnace when he sleeps or I might never stay warm.  He grunted softly as I slipped from under the arm he had flung over my belly but settled quickly back into a calm sleep in the way that men do when their subconscious realizes they can sprawl out and claim the entire bed for themselves.  Hair mussed up.  Foot sticking out of the covers at the bottom of the bed.  Pillow on the floor where it fell as he turned over.  I smiled as I picked it back up.  Sometimes it was so easy to see the boy he'd once been in the man he was now.

I was still smiling to myself over that image as I made my way into the bathroom.  I should have been bracing myself instead.  Do you have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with Hando?  He'd left their adjoining door open.  Again.  Thankfully, I couldn't see the bed but the sounds emanating from that direction left little doubt about what they were up to.  It made me laugh.  Breakfast.  Biggest meal of the day.  Apparently Hando prefers to start his with something other than bacon and eggs.  Heh.

I closed their adjoining door and then shot Hando the finger as I saw the toilet seat had been left up again.  Men!  He couldn't see it but it made me feel better.  I stuck my tongue out at the door and flipped it off again for good measure as I thought about his words the night before last as he pounded on our adjoining door.  "Jesus, Buzz...  Make her come or shut the fuck up already.  M'trying to sleep here!"  Classic Hando.  Ya gotta love him.  Lach responded in typical Aussie style... with a cheerful 'Fuck off!' and a pillow chucked at the door... after which we giggled and groaned our way to quite a finish, I must say. 

Breakfast was enjoyable, although I wish Lach could have been there.  I know he misses large family meals like he used to have back home; the four Curry boys sharing a meal under the watchful eye of their parents.  He would have loved to share a hearty old-fashioned meal with a table full of Brothers of a different sort.  I knew he needed to sleep, though, especially if he wanted to hie off to the races with them- and he did.  Lach does enjoy the ponies....almost as much as he enjoys getting pissed with his Brothers.

And good thing too-as I had a date with one of the Brothers who'd cried off going to the races this afternoon.  Lach knew, of course.  I never hide any of my visits from him.  He gave me his blessing, kissed me soundly as he stuck his hands up under my shirt, gave me a sweet little grope and then bounded out the door with the rest of his Brothers, grinning like an absolute loon as he patted the silver flask in his pocket and blew kisses at the lot of us standing on the porch.  My God.  Can you imagine the pack of them at the races?  It will be complete madness and they will fall in the door drunk, happy and feeling up everything that moves.  I can't wait.

My date was incredible, as they always are with this particular Brother.  We were back to our usual....games and secrets and witty little barbs.  Today I had been instructed to wait in the lobby of his hotel and to present myself on the steps outside at 11 sharp.  I did and when I got there, there was a black sedan waiting for me.  The doorman handed me an orchid as he leaned in and opened the car door for me.  I felt a warmth well up in me and settle on my cheeks as I saw into the interior.  A very attractive redheaded man was smiling at me.  The red silk blindfold I'd left with the boots back at his home was draped over his right leg, just above his knee.  Waiting for me.  I felt my breath catch.     

I hesitated for only a moment before I slid into the seat next to him, flushing with pleasure at all the trouble he'd gone to, even as I wondered what game we'd be playing today.  His teasing smile got bigger as the doorman shut the car door after me.  He gave me a look.  "You gonna be giving me the silent treatment today, too, honey?"

I laughed aloud.  "You going to be pinching my butt today?"

Wry little smirk from him.  "I might."  I raised an eyebrow at him and his rich, warm laughter surrounded me....although I noticed he gave the blindfold a subtle little stroke with his finger as he cocked his head and gave me an appraising look.  "Mmmm...."  He'd told me to dress comfortably and I had.  Green cashmere sweater.  Pretty floral skirt.  Boots.  I had dressed for him and he knew it.  His eyes warmed and I felt his knuckles brush against me as he leaned in and kissed me chastely in greeting. 

When he pulled away, I realized he'd tucked the blindfold into my fingers.  His voice was soft but there was a sparkle in his eyes.  "I want you to wear this and trust that I won't let anything bad happen to you, Heather.  Can you do that?"

This was different than the fantasy we'd shared before and he knew it... but I also knew he'd never let any harm come to me.  He gave me time to think it over and I used it... but in the end, I decided to play his game.  I was dying to see what he had up his sleeve.  The spark was between us was different this time, more playful.  Lighthearted.  It infused me with the same sense of mischievousness and I smoothed the silk of the blindfold between my fingers, held it to my eyes and turned around so he could tie it. 

I bit my lip but couldn't keep in the giggle as I felt him secure it into place.  "Lead on, Macduff."                  

"Cute....but I'm hardly a Scottish nobleman, honey."

"You're not noble?"  I giggled.  "Or you're not a man?"  Oh, how I love winding him up.  

"I'm not Scottish, brat."  He pinched me without warning and chuckled when I shrieked and stuck my tongue out at him.  He continued teasing me, of course... all the while taking his time ramping me up....teasing me about where he was taking me and what he was going to do with me once he had me there.  He is the biggest pain.  I also noticed he was paying attention to the way I answered him.  Every single time I hesitated in responding, he'd pick up on my discomfort and tease me even more.

"The London Dungeon?"  I felt a frisson of fear.  Usually I'm up for just about anything, but with the way I'd been feeling so unsettled lately I wasn't sure taking a tour through a gory exhibit was too smart, to say nothing of the fact that I wasn't too keen on seeing a grisly torture chamber in light of Terry's recent revelations.  I put a hand on my stomach and hoped that queasy feeling would pass before I embarrassed myself.  Or ruined the interior of this gorgeous car.  I held the flower he'd given me to my nose and breathed in its faint fragrance.

He noticed my reluctance immediately and the tone in his voice changed.  "There's a museum, too."

I mulled that over.  It definitely brought to mind a different image than the sensationalized gore I knew would grace the 'dungeons' open to the paying public.  A museum, huh?  Actually, that part did sound intriguing.  I love to see old things - from art to weaponry; it all interests me.  Still, Dino really wouldn't take me to a place like that now, would he?  The Museum of Torture? 

"Maybe I want to walk with you there....look at all the artifacts...."  He let the silence stretch out for long moments.  "Torture doesn't always have to be painful, honey."  Bit of dry amusement in his voice now and I smiled in spite of myself.  An image of Dino deftly wielding a feather flitted through my mind and I felt a blush rise.  The car stopped moving and I felt a rush of heat intertwined with apprehension.  "Maybe I just want you to see all those things in their little glass cases and wonder which one I might use the next time I deprive you of one of your senses."  

My smile faded and I just know he heard my soft intake of air as my lips parted in surprise.  I felt his breath on my cheek, felt him touch his mouth to mine, lightly, and when he drew back, the blindfold fell from my eyes as if by magic.  He winked at me and slid it into his breast pocket with a slow smirk.  I blinked a couple of times at the bright winter sunshine and focused on his face first before my eyes darted to the window.

"Hey!  This isn't a museum!"  It was a rather nondescript building of red brick.

He chuckled and helped me out of the car.  "Nope."

I could tell he was enjoying the hell out of my confusion as he led me up the steps and unlocked the heavy door.  It was black with a shiny brass kick plate and was flanked on either side by beautiful stained glass windows.  He locked it after us and led me to one of those old freight elevators that had been refitted.  You know the kind, where they don't really have doors, they have this old grill you pull in place instead.  I shot him a nervous look.  I'd only ever seen them in the movies.  He simply grinned at me as he rolled it into place and depressed the button.

A little unsure, I moved closer to him and he put his arm around me, lending me his quiet strength even as he was savoring my curiosity.  "Where are we, Dean?"

The elevator stopped and softly bounced under our feet.  Dino opened the grill and let me have a good long look.  "My apartment."

My mouth hung open.  I knew he had apartments in San Francisco, New York and London but I'd never seen any of them.  The closest I'd come is being on the other end of the phone when he called me from one of them.  My eyes drank it all in.  The elevator opened into a huge open space.  Hardwood floors.  Almost no furniture to speak of.  There was a small neat stack of unpacked boxes in the center of the space.  They were dusty. 

The pressure of his hand at the small of my back guided me into the space and I turned a full circle, wanting to see it all.  "You live here?" 

Small little smirk on his lips.  "If you can call it that."  He turned his head away, looking at the space objectively, as I had.  "Usually I stay with Mac and the old man or at a hotel..."  He didn't elaborate on that part and I didn't ask.  This certainly wasn't the sort of place he could bring a woman back to....and then suddenly, I got what this was all about.

He was showing me another secret.  Another side of him he rarely reveals.  This place wasn't smooth or slick or suave.  It was actually kind of lonely.  Empty.  Sterile.  There were vestiges of him here... little touches that told me he'd spent time some time in this place.  A simply dressed bed was sectioned off in one corner by hanging shoji screens made from black wood and mother of pearl disks.  Simple but striking.  A stack of framed black and white photographs rested against one wall, ready to be hung.  A newspaper sat on a frosted glass tabletop in a nook off the kitchen.  The only other furniture in the room was a black leather recliner.  It made me smile.  It was situated in front of a very high-end flat screen television that was mounted on the wall.  Heh.  Men.

I couldn't help myself as I took in the sight of the chair and thought about how it seemed like a small island anchored in a sea of gorgeous oak flooring.  The lack of other furniture made it stand out.  The prurient side of my mind conjured the image almost immediately.  This space, still and quiet in the darkness.  The two of us making love in that chair; me astride his hips, rocking gently.  His face illuminated by the soft flickering light of the television.  How the leather would creak as he moved harder under me.  How his eyes would close as his head went back.  How his chin would come up and his hands would tighten on my hips as he came. 

When I turned to look at him, he was staring at me, hands on his hips in that way he has that's uniquely Dino, watching me in his space.  Appraising me.  He cocked his head and looked at me from under his lashes.  "Penny for your thoughts."

I flushed beet red.  Damn him!  He did that on purpose.  

"You shouldn't tempt me like that, honey."  He said something to me in Spanish then.  I'm not going to repeat it for you, but it was sweet and romantic and left me with such a smile and a warm feeling in my heart for him.  A playful light danced in his eyes.  "So...."  He put his hand on top of the stack of boxes.  "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is helping me to unpack my things....you may wear the red boots-"

I grinned at that.  "In your dreams, Burrito."

He chuckled.  "Leave my burrito out of this."  His eyes sparkled.  "At least for now."  

Our words were teasing but the moment was more poignant than either of us let on.  We weren't playing house.  I would never do that and he would never ask me to, but it was a precious gift to be given so naked a look at the private side of man who takes a large measure of comfort in the mystery that surrounds him.  He was, in essence, showing me a glimpse at the part of him that wasn't smooth or slick. 

We spent an enjoyable afternoon going through his things.  I think it was just as much because he wanted to share that part of himself with me as it was that he wanted the touch of a woman in his space.  Well, that and I don't know any man who would voluntarily find hangers for his clothes and refold his shirts if he could charm a woman into doing it for him. 

While we worked, he told me about the place.  How he'd had it for nearly a year now but that his schedule had never really allowed him to have any time here to get the place sorted.  The truth was he preferred either to stay with Terry and Uma or to have the luxury of room service and housekeeping in a fine hotel... but that there were times he also preferred to have his space.  Privacy.  Quiet.  He'd called me from here before... and now I'd seen it.  Seen the bed he'd called me from.  It had red silk sheets.  It was the only splash of rich vibrant color in the entire space.  Nearly everything else was some shade of black or white.  God, just the image of him twisting on those red sheets, straining under his own hand with my voice in his ear....  it made my cheeks hot just thinking about it.  Made the rest of me hot too, truth be told.

Getting him sorted didn't take all that long, really.  He didn't have much in the way of personal effects.  Mostly we just talked.  He told me what a sweet deal he got when he purchased the place.  'On the apartment?' I'd said.  'On the building, honey,' he'd responded with that slow little smile he does.  Why is it I never remember that one third of PW's fortune belongs to Dino?  God knows, he's got as much of it as Terry does.  Well, maybe that's not quite accurate.  He doesn't have to support Uma's Choo habit.  Heh.  All joking aside, he has such an easy grace with it, a subtly in use I suppose.  He doesn't flaunt it, but I suspect he has the same love of big toys most men do and I'd bet he's got at least one expensive hobby. 

While we sorted through the last of his possessions, he told me more about the apartment.  How it was located in great place... within walking distance of both Hyde Park and the US Embassy, places he visited regularly when he was in London but for different reasons, obviously.  You know, everyone always says you can tell who your real friends are when you move... but actually, it was pretty fun.  I got to razz him over all the stuff he'd collected... he had great taste - but since when have I ever let that stop me? 

Make no mistake, this place was a world away from the intimacy of his haven.  There were no stolen Sister treasures here and it didn't have that organic homey feeling his true home had.  It was the private side of his working self, not the private side of his private self, if that makes any sense.  We had a good time, teasing each other, cracking truly tasteless jokes.  Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was mentioned more than once.  And if that wasn't enough, I nearly got myself paddled for writing in the dust on one of the boxes 'Bet you wish your woman was this dirty'.  What can I say?  Winding him up is one of my favorite pastimes.

Still, I should have known no date with Dino wouldn't come without a healthy measure of smooth to make it go down just right.  This time was no exception.  When he returned from bringing down the last of the empty boxes, the elevator's metal grill slid back to reveal one very charming redheaded man carrying a picnic basket and a blanket.  It reminded me of our first night together, how he'd left a picnic basket at the beach that night.  You know, for a tough old Marine, he is such a romantic.

He spread the blanket out on the floor, smack in the middle of the empty space where the boxes had stood not more than an hour ago.  We settled ourselves and he made a show of unpacking the basket, revealing all sorts of tempting morsels followed by the cutlery, plates and cloth napkins.  He was grinning as he pulled out a bottle of scotch.  The good stuff.  A bottle of honey came next.  He raised his eyebrow at me and smirked.  "Mmmm....how'd that get in there?" 

How indeed.  He is so shameless!  He chuckled and tossed it back in, grinning like a little boy who'd gotten caught putting frogs in his sister's lunchbox.  And also like a man who been thinking about putting some honey on his Honey.  Naughty boy! 

We shared an intimate meal, talking and laughing.  Just one of those times when it feels like the simplest thing in the world to be so easy with each other.  After we'd finished, he rolled to his side and propped his head up on one hand.  "So, you bring 'em?"

As if I'd have come unprepared.  Not after the conversation we'd had negotiating this very moment.  On my last visit to his home, I'd taken a roll of pictures.  When I got home and had them developed, one I'd taken of him was so adorably pathetic, I couldn't resist scanning it and emailing it to him with the note, "I think this might be one for Terry's corkboard, don't you?"

I nearly fell out of my chair at his response.  God, I love his humor.  "There's no place on earth or in portals you could run that I wouldn't track you down if you EVER dare show that picture to anyone ... but especially to Terry.  Got it?  Christ.  That's one ugly mug, ain't it? I can't stop laughing. Funniest fucking thing I might have ever seen in my life. How the hell did I let you talk me into posing for that picture? I must be crazy in love. Or just crazy."

Of course, you know me... I couldn't leave it there.  "Dean, I laughed until my sides hurt when I got the roll back.  I'll bring the rest with me to London.  (Don't worry!  I can do it covertly!)  Heh.  You said you might have a bit of free time to spend with me.  What do you say?  You... me... the pictures... some cuddling and a whole lot of giggling?"

You know, ya gotta love the redhead.  He's always up for our games.  "London. Me. You.  Your bid: Pictures. Cuddling. Giggling.  I'll see your opening gambit and raise you this: Sighing. Kisses to die for. A smile I'll never forget.  Will you call my bid or will you up the ante?  Let's negotiate our way into each others arms."

And I couldn't disappoint him, could I?  "So we're negotiating?  I've heard it's never good to give too much too fast... then they just thank you for the down payment and you get a new demand.  Mmm....Wonder what kinda proof of life I'd get in that deal?  Heh.  Well, I know I have to give you an amount you can take back to your people....so....how's this sound?  Soft round curves (mine) sharp hard angles (yours) and a generous measure of exquisite intimacy.  Oh, I almost forgot the clincher!  Marco-- a little something on the side for you, off the books?  How about this:  A foot massage?  I know how particular you are about your feet.  Plus I have the burning desire to see you sprawled out in utter relaxation and purring like a big cat while I stroke you.  What do you think?  Enough to close this deal or are you going to have to go loud?"

You'd think I learn, but I never do....  "My sweet little negotiator:  I think we've reached a number I can take back to my people. In fact, yes ... they are approving it even now. The Big Toe says he definitely approves of the side deal.  But I just have to say this ... let's close the deal ... but let's also go loud, honey!"

He always trumps me in our word games.  Every single time.  Guess that's why he's such a damn good negotiator.  It's also what keeps me playing these games with him.  I love a challenge.

So that's how I wound up spending the afternoon with his feet in my lap while he shuffled through the pictures I'd brought.  Giggling.  Cuddling.  Kissing.  Smiling.  Sighing.  The side deal...  All demands were met.  I don't know about Marco, but I think we can call this deal done.  And as for what happened after?  I wouldn't be expecting a conclusive report on that if I were you.  Heh.