August

April 30: Sunday

The day before the wedding, everything suddenly turned frantic. Henrik had invited the vast majority of the guests - colleagues, brothers, cousins, and men he knew from work - and they were all arriving at odd times to stay in the guest house and cabins farther out on the property. Phidias hadn't even known there was a guest house - he wondered just how little of the property he'd actually seen. Henrik had also made the majority of the requests, and Phidias had been left, with the assistance of the CEC wedding planner Henrik had hired, to carry out his plans.

Henrik had asked if there was anyone he'd like to invite, and Phidias had thought briefly of Emily's father - still alive somewhere, no doubt, because the man had been fierce and strong and Phidias believed he would have lived through anything. But then he thought of Emily and thought better of it. With her father here, it would be too much like having a witness to his betrayal - he wouldn't have gone through with it. Caddy had nudged him, gently, into inviting a few of his colleagues from the Institute. Dr. Alan Long would be in attendance, along with Drs. Evan Rachelle and Kim Wordsmith ("Smithy"). After that, their guest list had been empty. But then he'd gone for his last round of premarital counseling, and the Counselor had hinted that he might like to come, and so might some of his friends from the lunch group, if they were still around. So Phidias invited Sheridan and James and the Counselor, a total of six guests that became nine when husbands and fiancés were counted, and sixteen when Caddy begged to invite Adrian and his peer group.


Phidias hadn't done much to help plan the wedding with Emily; in truth, there had been little to plan. They'd decided on a courthouse because he was meant to be getting a plane the very next day; they would have a ceremony on the beach when they arrived. There had been flowers, and Emily in a pretty white sundress she'd packed in a haste that still had wrinkles in it, and even a little altar she had convinced the local boys to build her out of spare wood. That had been all, and that had been enough.


This was different. Everything was different. Henrik had friends, plenty of them, it seemed, and they all were very curious to know just who had ended up wedded to their comrade at the end of the day. Phidias had spoken to a few of them on the phone - gravely voices and the sing-song lilt of trained carriers on the other end of the line. Sometimes he heard other languages in the background, and tried to guess in his head where the caller was from based on the sound of it. But then Henrik always came to the phone, all smiles and happiness and Phidias just got so swept up in watching him that he forgot all the little mysteries that came before.

Henrik had been an enigma in the past few days; gentle, friendly, mutable and eternally happy, but generally untalkative about anything Phidias considered to be important. When he'd asked Henrik questions about his friends, his family, anything he should know for the wedding, his fiancé had kissed his cheek and simply told him everything would be fine, then steered the conversation towards things like what they were going to name the baby and whether Phidias would like to have sex just now. Both were topics that Phidias reliably balked at, and so he would scamper off to do some imagined chore and Henrik would go on keeping his secrets.

Cadmus had been surprisingly well-behaved this week, relative to what Phidias had come to expect. He hadn't left the house without permission again, appeared to be going to classes (Phidias called to check up) and hadn't done anything else of offense to Henrik's rules or general standards of decency. He'd been relieved of classes a day early for the wedding, and was currently fast asleep upstairs, having stayed up half the night playing board games in the library with Mr. Paul and Anders.

Anders was also relieved of duties for this day as well as the next, but had roused himself today for an early morning swim with his father in the pool. Everyone was on their own until noon, when Henrik had insisted they convene for a family lunch, their last meal together before the wedding day. The evening, he'd reminded them all, would be an introductory dinner for Phidias - a chance for him to meet some of Henrik's friends and their wedding guests.


And so all of this meant that Phidias and the wedding planner were currently standing alone in the kitchen at 8:47 am, trying to figure out how best to use the morning.
"The tents should be here in the next 30 minutes, and Mr. Paul will be at the front to direct those out to the back, right?"
The wedding planner, an older carrier with dark hair speckled with grey pulled back into a neat bun, and a silver wedding ring on his hand, stared intently down at his journal.
Phidias nodded his response and poured himself a glass of orange juice to take his morning pills with.
"Right. Henrik doesn't want anyone coming through the house."
Phidias popped three of the pills into his mouth and chased them with a swallow of juice. The wedding planner frowned up at him.
"You have to eat before you take those. You're going to make yourself sick."
Phidias half-grinned, trying to mask his irritation.
"I ate some toast. I'll be fine."
The wedding planner looked even more concerned.
"You don't want to be sick while we're getting everything ready for your wedding."
Phidias did his best to keep annoyance off of his face.
"I'll eat more toast. I'm fine. Keep going - what's next?"
The wedding planner crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin up a bit.
"Well, I hope you won't take this cavalier attitude towards your health once you're carrying Mr. Angstrom's child."
Phidias threw the glass, full force, against the wall above the sink. It shattered, and the wedding planner leapt backwards, gasping in shock. Phidias stared at the sink, then at the other carrier.
"I said I'm fine. What's. Next."

~:~

The prospect of a trip away for the weekend seemed to have really lightened things inside the house. Sheridan seemed happier than usual, James was less annoying, Soyinka was more talkative, and even Harley appeared marginally less menacing than before. The invitation to Phidias and Henrik's wedding seemed to be a harbinger of good things to come. Harley had decided that a mini-vacation might do them all good, and had booked two rooms at a small bed-and-breakfast not far from Henrik's house. A brief thought flickered through Sheridan's mind about the last time he'd been with Harley at a bed-and-breakfast, but he buried it deeply and said he thought it would be fun instead.

James had had a doctor's appointment the previous morning to check on the baby, and the discussion of this at dinner had seemed to inspire Soyinka, who kept Sheridan in bed the rest of the evening, as well as far enough into the morning that he was almost late for duty.
He left Sheridan with a kiss and instructions to spend the rest of the day in bed. His husband stood at the end of their bed, quickly buttoning his shirt, then unbuttoning it when he realized he'd done it up wrong. This made Sheridan giggle, and Soyinka had feigned hurt feelings until Sher had scooted up to the edge of the bed and done it for him.
Aaron Soyinka had kissed him and said, "I don't care if the house is dirty when I come home, or the dishes haven't been done, or there's nothing hot to eat. I just want you to relax. All day. Promise?"
Sheridan had kissed him back and promised it would be so, but fifteen minutes after Soyinka had closed the door, he got up to help James mop the kitchen and tidy up the house to prepare for the weekend. Even if Soyinka wouldn't be angry, Harley sure as hell would.

~:~

Adrian had somehow been persuaded to take up the role of Acting Head of the Young Carriers program at Woodacre. The program was currently very small, as Woodacre only had so many people to begin with, and thus only had so many carriers, young or not. But Ren and June and a few of the other older carriers had lobbied the Elders for permission to start a school at Woodacre (there was certainly room for it, they argued) and had been successful. The Young Carriers Program would be parlayed into a full school curricula over the next four years, if all went well, and Adrian had been rigorously encouraged to get involved. Sean joined in June and Ren in pushing Adrian to help, thinking that it would give his wife a way to occupy his time, as well as help him to reintegrate into the social life of Woodacre. However, Sean had sternly warned them all, the minute it appeared to be too stressful for Adrian's health, he would be right back to the limited duties he was assigned to now. Adrian had reluctantly agreed.

So now he was sitting in a corner of the library with Ren and June, going over lists of courses for the children in the autumn.
"So geography is essential, math is essential, biology and health, and...history?"
"Essential." Ren said at the same time June said, "Leave it out."
Adrian paused and looked between both of them. Ren looked over at June, who shrugged morosely.
"What's the point of it, anyway? Can't change what's already happened. And the books they print aren't worth a lick, these days. They're all revised version of real events, aren't they?"
Ren looked uncomfortable, but shrugged his accordance. Adrian wrote it down.
"Language."
"Arabic, they should learn. We can get someone here to teach it." June put in immediately.
"Or Hebrew." June added. "Let them choose between the two."
"Spanish?" Adrian suggested, but was met with immediate looks of distaste. "Or perhaps not." he looked back down at his notebook. "Engineering."
At this suggestion, June just looked horrified and turned to Ren, who leaned forward and gently put a hand on his stepson's knee.
"Adrian. Sweetheart. I know you want the best for these kids. But try to remember the roles that you're teaching them. You want them to have an easier time than you had, not harder. Don't confuse them."
Adrian's face flushed a little, and he scratched out what he had written.
"OK. Fine. Fine Arts?"
June frowned.
"Which type?"
Adrian shrugged.
"Drama."
"Well," June looked to Ren for confirmation. "Literature's better. But I think they have time for drama and film." Ren nodded and then squeezed his eyes shut, looking a little green. He reached forward and hastily swallowed some of the tea in the mug in front of him, then turned back to Adrian.
"Herbalism." Ren took another long sip of the tea. "They need to learn herbalism."
June cooed sympathetically and rubbed Ren's back. Adrian wrote this down and moved on down the list.
"Social Arts?"
"Essential." both June and Ren answered in unison.

~:~

The rest of the morning had gone smoothly, then lunch had gone smoothly, and even the afternoon had gone smoothly. Henrik and Anders had spent the rest of the morning together in the library, working on some project or the other, and Caddy had made himself surprisingly helpful as a sort of buffer between the wedding planner and his dad.

By five, the table had been set for dinner. Caddy had been given two choices: he could either stay, and be on his best behavior and in Henrik's sight at all times, or he could go back to the CEC for the evening. There would be no wandering the house while it was full of new guests. Caddy quickly assessed how boring he thought the evening would be, and decided to go back to the CEC and spend the night with his friends. The car had just left. Anders had decided to use the evening to busy himself with his own friends, and was busy packing a duffel bag in his room. That left Phidias just enough time and just empty enough of a house to take himself upstairs, bathe, and dress for dinner.

Henrik was waiting in their bedroom. He was sitting in the large, cream-colored chair by the window, his legs sprawled out and concentration focused on some small thing in his hands he was fiddling with. He glanced up briefly at Phidias' entrance.
"Shower?"
Phidias nodded. He needed a shower desperately - he felt tired, sweaty, and more than a little nervous about the introduction. Henrik watched him, seeming to read these emotions from him.
"I'll come and join you."
Phidias thought about protesting, but Henrik had this way of making suggestions that brooked no argument. And he was too tired to argue, anyway. Then Henrik looked back down at the small thing in his hands and began fiddling again. Phidias surmised he was dismissed.


He stepped through into the bathroom - the lights over the sink were already on, enough for him to see his way, and Phidias stepped tiredly out of his clothes and kicked them to the base of the hamper as he crossed the room. Henrik's bathroom, he sometimes reflected, was almost as big as his entire room at the CEC. He pulled his towel from where he'd left it on the rack and wrapped it around himself as he padded across the rugs and cold tile of the floor to turn on the shower.

The heat and rush of the water were so welcome, Phidias thought he might cry. He wet his body first, then closed his eyes and dipped his head under the spray to let the heat soak through his hair. Presently, he heard the slide of the glass door opening and sensed Henrik's presence behind him. Phidias waited, but no touch was forthcoming; he opened his eyes and looked over one shoulder at Henrik, who was standing, arms crossed, leant against the wall of the shower. The half-light played across his body; his arms, made strong by years of swimming, and his belly, still flat for a man of his age, and his cock, hanging heavily between the thighs that Phidias remembered from experience as powerful. Phidias couldn't think of what to say.
"You're not getting wet." he said, and immediately felt stupid for it. Henrik grinned, wryly and shook his head.
"Not yet. I am enjoying my view."
Luckily, the hot water hid the fact that Phidias blushed down to his toes.
"I'm almost done." he mumbled, reaching to turn off the flow. Henrik stepped forward and caught his hand.
"No." he said, trailing his eyes across Phidias' face, "You're not."
Phid's heart sped up, as it always did in these kinds of situations, and he tried to pull his hand back, but Henrik held firm. He tried to look up at his fiancé's face to judge the situation, but the water and the poor lighting obscured it. Breathing heavily, he looked back down to where their hands were joined.
"What - what do you want?"
Henrik held him fast for a long minute, then slid his hand down to join hands with Phidias. He took a sponge from the wall with his free hand and pressed it into Phidias' palm.
"Wash me."
Henrik released Phidias' hand and stepped back, just under the water flow, and Phidias exhaled a shaky breath. He felt stupid again, and intimidated, and weak, and stupid for feeling weak or intimidated, and -
"Phidias."
Phid looked up at Henrik. The older man was watching him again, and at first Phidias thought he was going to be scolded for his hesitation, for taking so long, not while they had guests coming, they couldn't stay in the shower forever, they had to -
"Stop thinking." Henrik's voice was firm, but gentle. Phidias stared at the sponge in his hands. Henrik reached forward, through the water, and stroked Phidias' face. "Don't think about it. Just do it."
Phidias had intended just to turn away and soap the sponge, but Henrik must have seen some consternation, because he reached out and took Phidias' wrist again. "Phidias. I am your husband. I respect you. I find you beautiful. I am asking you to bathe me."
This time, the words worked and Phidias reached resolutely for the soap to lather the sponge, which he then dragged slowly across Henrik's chest. Henrik made something like a purr of encouragement, and Phidias, feeling boldened, did his stomach next, then his cock, which had begun to harden, then his legs, at which point Henrik kissed him firmly and said gruffly that if he didn't finish the rest of it himself, they were both going to be late to dinner. Phidias handed over the sponge with a swiftness that made Henrik chuckle and excused himself from the shower.
"I laid out something for you to wear." Henrik called after him. "I hope you like it."

~:~

Less than an hour later, they both stood waiting and dressed downstairs for their first guest to arrive. Henrik wore black dress pants and a white shirt, open at the neck; Phidias wore the natori Henrik had picked out - it was a very long one, almost covering his ankles, dark maroon and adorned around the edges with a dancing gold pattern. Henrik had chosen a slim maroon top to go with it too, and around his neck, Phidias wore the necklace that Henrik had found and presented to him earlier.

The first pair was composed of an officer who looked a little younger than Henrik, wearing a pair of loose linen pants and a flowing white shirt which contrasted starkly with his dark brown skin; he was accompanied by a carrier who Phidias assumed was his wife - a femme of about Phidias' age with pretty golden skin and long, jet black hair which barely showed around the edges of the intricately embroidered scarf he wore to cover it. The carrier's eyes were lined in black, and the hand he extended to Phidias was decorated with several gold rings. At the sight of the couple, Henrik lost all pretense of decorum and rushed forward to embrace the man.
"Anthony! And Mahir! My God, it's been so long, I had no idea you were going to make it! Where the hell did you get a plane?!"
The man laughed and clapped Henrik firmly on the back.
"What?! For this?? It took me 6 days to get here, but of course I was going to make it. I called in a favor at the last minute."
Henrik grinned and elbowed him.
"Did you bring me wine?"
Anthony stopped smiling and scowled at Henrik.
"Angstrom. Why would you ask me something like that?" Phidias cocked his head, confused by the abrupt change of attitude. Anthony shook his head and grinned. "OF COURSE I brought you wine!" the men laughed until Anthony pulled back, looking over Henrik's shoulder to where Phidias had been left standing alone.
"Is this him?"
Phidias suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He straightened his necklace awkwardly and glanced over at Henrik. Henrik sensed his tension and stepped over to squeeze on of Phidias' hands with his own.
"Yes. This is Dr. Phidias Alexander."
the officer grinned at Phidias and bowed his head politely.
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Alexander."
"Dr. Angstrom soon, won't it be?" the carrier - Mahir, Phidias assumed - cut in with a smile. "I'm Dr. Mahir Duke, Anthony's wife." he indicated with one hand over his shoulder. "This is Anthony Duke. I bet you're excited."
Excited, Phidias felt, was not even the word for it.
Henrik interrupted that the bar would be getting cold without them and Anthony agreed that they had best hurry on in while the whiskey was still warm. Henrik politely greeted Mahir with a bow of the head and ushered them all into the house.

As soon as they entered, Henrik led Anthony into the library, where the lights were on and a small bar had been set up by the sitting area near the windows. Phidias began to follow, but Henrik stopped him with a kiss at the door.
"Why don't you show Mahir the rest of the house? We'll meet you both in the sitting room shortly - Mr. Paul has prepared some hors d'oeuvres for everyone there, and I'm sure Mahir would love a tour before dinner."
Phidias wasn't sure exactly how much of a tour he could reasonably take Mahir on, given that he still didn't know half the house himself. But, sure that this was Henrik's attempt to get him to bond with another carrier, he agreed. Men, from what he understood, sometimes wanted their wives to be friendly with each other. Phidias turned to Mahir.
"If you'd like to follow me, Dr. Duke, I'll show you the house."

Phidias and Mahir ended up in the sunroom with a plate of little spinach pastries, diced chicken, and fruits; all accompanied by a newly-opened bottle of wine. After locating some glasses, Mahir poured himself a hefty drink before half filling Phidias' portion. Phidias raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling awkward.
"You're not..." he indicated Mahir's abdomen. The carrier laughed.
"Pregnant? No." he took a long swig of his wine. "Not this week." he added, wryly, and Phidias would have thought he was serious were it not for the suspicious gleam of amusement in his eyes.
"Oh. Me, um, me either."
Mahir tilted his head.
"I wouldn't guess you were. Henrik is far too proper for a shotgun wedding." Mahir laughed at his own joke, and Phidias couldn't help but notice that he had a bit of an accent to his words.
"So you and Anthony came far? It took six days, you said?"
Mahir swallowed more wine and nodded.
"Yes. We had to fly from Al Kuwayt out of the country, then take a train to the coast through the Alliance, then from there another plane into the Union. It was very long. And Anthony does not like to wait that long between having me." Mahir grinned devilishly. "We've actually been here for three hours, but he wouldn't let me out of bed until it was almost dinnertime."
Phidias was so taken with the new information that he barely even noticed the lewd joke.
"Al Kuwayt...so you're from the Emirates?"
Mahir inclined his head.
"Born and bled."
Phidias' imagination was captivated.
"What's it like there?"
Mahir smiled wistfully.
"Beautiful. And hot. And beautiful." he looked down into his glass. "The Emirates have been extremely, extremely fortunate. And the firm has, as well."
Phidias cocked his head.
"The firm?"
Mahir flicked his eyes up to examine Phidias' face.
"I didn't say any firm."
"What's the firm?"
Mahir shook his head.
"You must have misheard me, Phidias. I'm sorry. I tend to mix my languages sometimes. Correct me if I do it again." Mahir looked down at Phidias' half-drunk glass. "More wine?"

~

Over the next forty-five minutes, they were joined by three other carriers - Denis, wife of Josef Barclay; Amin, wife of Cary Talbot; and Tyson, wife of Everett Kamal.

Denis was blonde and waif-like, with a round face and wide smile that Phidias usually associated with a Scandinavian origin. He was happy, well-spoken, older than Phidias, and visibly pregnant. He arrived dressed in long pants and a loose, sleeveless shirt over which he had wrapped a shawl to keep off the April chill. Mahir fawned over the shawl while Phidias poured himself more wine and got Denis a glass of juice instead. Mahir greeted Denis gently but excitedly, and Phidias understood the two had not been together in some time.

Amin was the next to youngest of the group, perhaps in his early thirties, and was just as pregnant as Denis was. He, too, was slim and well-spoken, but his features were more pronounced than the others' - he had large, round eyes and a long, narrow nose which he appeared to be looking down each time he spoke to Phidias. But he was sweet, too, and dressed similarly to Mahir, with the exception of his hair being uncovered and his wrists adorned with what looked like a hundred gold bangles that jingled when he reached for bites of more food. Mahir seemed to regard him with some mixture of caution and vague interest, and Phidias wondered what their relationship was. Whatever the case, it appeared that Mahir was the acting hostess at the moment, as he took it upon himself to introduce everyone to Phidias and even helped them to spark up conversations.

Tyson, the youngest, was the last to arrive, and Phidias noted immediately that he bore a close resemblance to Anthony - they had the same button nose and doe eyes, the same cheeky smile, and the same physical build. Tyson entered shyly, and Mahir got up and went to him, kissing his cheek and addressing him as brother, which Phidias took to mean his suspicions were confirmed. He, too, was dressed in a long natori and had his hair covered. Phidias offered him a glass of wine, which he demurred, making Mahir turn to him in shock.
"You're pregnant?!"
Tyson put his head down, and Phidias guessed he was blushing, though it was hard to tell.
"Think I am." he answered quietly.
Mahir nearly spilled his wine in the rush to hug his brother in law, and kissed the younger man's cheek repeatedly.
"I'm an aunt! Does Everett know?!"
Tyson shrugged a little half-shrug and nodded.
"Told him this morning."
Mahir beamed.
"Oh, Ty, he must be so happy. When we get back to Wafra, your brother and I are going to throw you one hell of a celebration."
Amin stood up then to hug Tyson, as did Denis and then Phidias (wanting to fit in). Tyson grinned and rubbed his shoulder, clearly growing uncomfortable of all the attention.

He was spared by the door opening; Henrik appeared in the doorway, smiling, to tell them all it was time for dinner.

~

At dinner, each of the carriers sat next to their respective husbands and waited to be served their meals. The conversation picked up, and Henrik seemed to be completely involved; Phidias just sat back and tried to catch up as everyone spoke over each other, sometimes in English and with some words in Arabic and a few in a language that he hadn't been able to identify but had guessed might have been Swedish. The first course came, then the second, and throughout the meal, Henrik sat enraptured, turning to Phidias occasionally, to translate or explain, and then digging his way back into the conversation to give opinion, share stories, joke or express shock at the happenings of life. Mahir inquired after Anders, and Henrik updated them all on his son's well-being, shifting the focus momentarily to children and, then, subsequently, wives. In a way, it was fascinating - Phidias had never seen Henrik so alive, so open and happy. He bantered with Everett, shared news with Cary and took teasing from Anthony and Josef about how his life was soon going to change.
"I'm surprised it took you this long." Josef commented.
"I'm surprised he did it at all!" Mahir threw in and Henrik rolled his eyes as the table laughed. "But Phidias does seem to suit you, I guess - from what we know of him. He didn't talk much, Henrik. He's not at all like you." Mahir's eyes twinkled and more laughter erupted.
As it quelled, Tyson, who had been the quietest of the group, turned to Phidias.
"Well, why don't you tell us something about yourself, Dr. Alexander? Where did you grow up? Where do you come from?"
Phidias took a sip of the water he'd switched to, for fear of getting a bit sloppy as the evening wore on.
"New England." he said, clearing his throat. "I'm from New England, but I grew up in the flatlands of the midwest with my grandfather."
Mahir tilted his head in interest.
"He was a scholar, my grandfather, and he taught me everything I know." Phidias felt an emotion he was unfamiliar with appear suddenly, but he squashed it and went on. "At least, everything I know about history and literature. I went to school when I was 16, a private college. He didn't want me going into the Academy - no offense to any of you. It just...wasn't for me. Anyway, I traveled, I studied, and eventually, I took up anthropology. That was my real passion, and I never looked back." he took another swallow of water. "And I have a son: Cadmus. He's 14." Around the table, everyone was making impressed noises and looking at him interestedly. Feeling a bit on the spot, Phidias decided to shift the focus.
"So what about you. What do you all do?" he asked the table.
As if a record had scratched, the room fell silent. After some silence, and a half-grin glance at his companions, Mahir answered.
"We are scientists, mostly, Phidias."
"Also businessmen." Cary Talbot interjected. Mahir glanced at him with fleeting annoyance.
"Yes," he acknowledged. "Scientists mostly, but also businessmen."

~

After dessert and the rest of the wine had finished, and the guests had all been escorted to their quarters, Henrik found Phidias in the kitchen, standing in silent awe at the sink overflowing with dishes. Henrik folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorway.
"Leave them, Phidias." he said, reaching out one hand to his husband. Phidias didn't startle at the sound of his voice - this was an improvement over the early days, when his fiancée seemed highly attuned to his presence, yet eternally frightened of its appearance.
'There's a lot to - "
"Leave them, Phidias." Henrik let his voice drop into the realm of command. Phidias turned to look over his shoulder immediately. There was compulsion in Henrik's voice, but also something else, more familiar. Phidias had guessed that Henrik was waiting until their wedding night. Clearly, he'd guessed wrong. Henrik's voice gentled.
"Come here."
Phidias turned and went, driven by what, he did not know. It could have been fatigue, or acceptance, or resignation, or desire, or the wine, or -
"Phidias."
Phid looked up at his soon-to-be husband's face. Henrik's pupils were dilated and his skin had a color to it. He placed on hand on Phidias' hip, urging him closer.
"Come upstairs with me."
Phidias felt his own skin begin to warm.
"I, um, I - "
Henrik craned his neck to nip at the junction of neck and shoulder.
"Um?"
"Um, don't want to go upstairs?"
Henrik stepped forward so that he could put his hands more securely on Phidias and capture his mouth in a kiss. Flush against his lips, Henrik mumbled. "Then shall I have you right here? Our guests are gone." Phidias warmed even more, but had the good sense to recognize that locations chosen under the influence of heat and good wine should always be rethought.
"Upstairs." he answered. "I'll go."
Henrik grinned, then frowned. He lifted one hand to draw a thumb over Phidias' lower lip.
"I love you." he said suddenly, strongly. Phidias nodded.
"I...love you, too." he answered, not knowing at all if Henrik had heard him, or believed.

~

Henrik was more careless after wine, Phidias noticed. The first penetration was more sudden than it had been the last time, and Phidias squirmed and clenched his fingers against Henrik's back as his fiancé rutted above him. Henrik's thrusts had a more haphazard nature to them this time - not the smooth, easy ride Phidias had had before. The second thrust went deep, Henrik forcing himself as far as he could go into Phidias before the younger man yelped and protested, pushing against his shoulder. He retreated then, and kissed Phidias, mumbling his name and a few words of endearment before sheathing himself fully again. Phidias felt his opening warming to the actions, the invading sensation; the feeling of fullness and rightness he'd noticed in their time before. It was strange, he thought, to feel this way from what they'd done - Henrik had been in a rush tonight, had not prepared him with fingers or mouth, and yet he was as wet as if Henrik had laved him with his tongue first.

Henrik gave another strong thrust, and Phidias felt a pleasure that teetered on the edge of pain but did not cross it - he savored it, and, wanting to encourage, kissed Henrik's shoulder.
"Again."
Henrik obliged, shifting his hips minutely to get the angle of the thrust just right, to get the depth just far enough in to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside of Phidias.
Phidias groaned.
"Again, please."
Henrik smiled and pulled out so that just the head of his cock was still lodged inside of Phidias; then he thrust forward, powerful but restrained, and Phidias squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer. After a moment, their rhythm picked up, Henrik perfecting then losing control of his thrusts and Phidias getting alternately closer to and farther from orgasming on his husband's cock.
"God, Henrik, fuck, pleasefuckme, I'm so close...."
Then Henrik came, suddenly, giving Phidias no warning, and the shock of the rush of wet heat inside of Phidias was enough to push him over the slippery edge of orgasm as well, and in seconds he was sliding out onto the plane of pure physical sensation.
Henrik groaned and Phidias cried out and stilled for a minute, reveling in his first cum from sex like this, while Henrik likewise shuddered the last droplets of his release, sheltering inside Phidias as he whispered foreign words and stroked his fiancée's skin. Phidias bit his lip and tried to soak up the last of the sensations which were quickly turning to discomfort as the afterglow faded. Henrik soothed him, holding his hips in place and not allowing him to move just yet.

After a moment, Henrik's cock must have become too sensitive, because he retreated, pulling out of Phidias with a slick sound and a rush of cool air. Phidias laid on his back for another minute before the desire to have a shower began to overtake him. He moved to roll over, but Henrik stopped him.
"No...stay."
Phidias shrugged off the hand.
"I'll be right back."
Henrik's grip returned, firmer this time.
"No. Stay. On your back."
Understanding hit Phidias in a torrent of emotions and he swallowed them all, then laid down on his back so that Henrik's cum wouldn't leave him just yet. Henrik curled up to Phidias, clearing his hair away from his eyes, still stroking his skin and kissing his shoulder and telling him over and over again how he was perfect, and beautiful, and loved. Phidias kissed him back, then tried to convince himself that he was sleepy; at least then he wouldn't feel as if he had been trapped in this bed.

~:~