About 4 days had passed since Marionette's business trip from England. And ever since his return, Foxy found his husband to be more on-edge than usual.

When he first went to retrieve him, Marionette had given Foxy a half-hearted greeting at the airport, Hadn't spoken a word during the car ride home, and did nothing but remove his trench-coat and collapse on the bed when they had finally hit home. But while part of Foxy felt that he should have been offended at this, he knew exactly why his husband was acting this way.

Marionette's father had a particular knack of getting under his son's skin in the worst of ways. He knew how to press every button on his body, and get on every nerve he possessed. And as much as he wanted to rip into him, Marionette knew that financial security for years to come was far more important. As opposed to the six seconds of satisfaction he would have gotten from simply stabbing the bloke and calling it a day. That and the potential jail time for 3rd degree murder. Even so, Foxy was still all too convinced that Marionette had offed a man in the past and knew how to properly dispose of a carcass.

So while disappointed in Marionette's behavior, Foxy couldn't fault him for it. Despite his foul mood beginning to prove too much for even the fur balls that shared space with them; Edward and Sebastian recently taking to scurrying out of whichever room Marionette where to occupy. Foxy found this humorous before it devolved into just plain sad. But still, the man knew when to keep his distance; so he continued to stay out of the albino man's way.

What Foxy considered to be the final straw into taking action was when Bonnie decided to pay one of his routinely visits. He hadn't been over for more than 7 minutes before he was nearly punted off of the penthouse rooftop Tom and Jerry style. The look in his eyes when Marionette told him to leave in a less than hospitable tone was pathetic. Sad, but pathetic. Foxy had to pull his friend to the side and inform him that Marionette was in one of his moods again. He advised Bonnie not to visit again until he gave him the sign that Marionette was safe to be around once more. The only thing Foxy got in response from Bonnie was the query of whether Marionette was PMSing. To which Foxy gave a lazy hand wave coupled with a "Yeah sure, whatever." before sending the stoner on his less-than merry way.

It was on the 5th day since his husband's return, that Foxy began plotting. Marionette was stressed, this much was obvious. But Marionette was also never the type to admit to his own mental deterioration. No, his husband was a prideful creature. Marionette could do this and that, Marionette had this amount of money, Marionette was fluent in 6 languages. Marionette was perfect. Absolutely perfect. After a point, Foxy began to believe that Marionette was telling himself this more of because he felt that he had to. But despite his various fronts, the charming face he put on for strangers, and the sheer poetry in motion that was his appearance. Foxy could see the weaknesses within that man. And currently, his weakness was the fact that he was as tense as a Thanksgiving dinner. One that consisted of a gay couple, their disapproving in-laws, and everyone in between.

Foxy knew exactly what was wrong with his husband, and knew exactly how to fix it. But he needed time.

You see, this particular plan required a bit of setup. Setup that included sending Marionette on a wild goose chase to retrieve a multitude of items; some of which that may or may not exist. Foxy knew that this particular phase of the plan would prove to be rather counter productive when Marionette eventually returned in an exhausted, irritated mess, questioning the authenticity of a "Fladoodle". But this and more would be solved in Operation de-stress the princess. Foxy pushed the cheesiness factor of the title into the back of his mind, promising himself that he'd come up with a much better one later. For it wasn't the name that was important.

What was important was the bath bomb he had purchased for Marionette. The candles he lit and placed around their bath and bedroom, and the various other preparations that he made in time for his husband's arrival. Which would have been right about…

Now.

Foxy perked up when he hear the sound of house keys jimmying messily inside of the lock tumbler. And on the other side of the door he could hear the angry, muffled, british ramblings of a very disgruntled Marionette. Before the door could be opened, Foxy was gone. Off to another area of the lavish apartment, completely out of Marionette's fixed path. A key component of this plan was to be nowhere in sight until the last minute.

Soon enough, Marionette was walking through the door, angry as ever.

"I can't believe you would just-TODD! You made me look completely off my trolley out there, looking for those bloody "fladoodles". Which don't exist by the way, as I was oh-so kindly told by some teenage wanker at the supermarket! Todd Voss, I swear when I find you, I am going to give you such a kick in the jaw that the bloke driving past our house is going to feel it!"

No answer.

"Ohhh no, you can't hide from me, you curd. When I find you, I am giving you a piece of my-" Marionette ranted as he walked through the apartment in search of his husband. He soon stopped in his tracks when he decided to look down at his feet.

There were rose petals scattered throughout the house. Petals that told of a path, and beckoned for a follower. Marionette's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and wary as he followed the proverbial yellow bricked road.

The trail stopped at the bathroom door, which only confused Marionette further. Turning the handle and creaking it open, Marionette's eyes widened with the image presented.

The lights dimmed, the bathtub full of sparkling, rose-garnished glitter water, and the entire room adorned with well-placed candles whose scent filled his nostrils with promises of apple cinnamon. Marionette parted his lips to speak again.

"Todd? Todd where are you? What is the meaning of this?" Marionette called out, more out of curiosity than anger. Yet there was still no answer.

Marionette walked inside of the bathroom and shut the door. Scanning the room he found a small folded strip of paper resting on the washroom's counter. White and plain, the only visible words being "Read me" In what was undoubtedly Foxy's handwriting. Marionette arched an eyebrow and picked up the note.

"This is only the beginning. And don't worry about the mess, I'll clean it up. ;) -Todd"

'Only the beginning'? What the bloody hell did he mean by that? Marionette blinked slowly and sat the strip of paper back where he found it. To say that he was confused would be like saying Inception was a trippy film. Understatement of the century. But never-the-less, Marionette found himself beginning to strip from his clothes, because goddamn if that bath didn't look like the most warm and inviting thing he'd seen all day.

He eased his way inside of the tub, allowing the warm water to envelope his body and felt somewhat revived.

Several minutes passed before Marionette was ready to leave. Opening a single eye, he lifted his head off of the small pillow that cradled it and yawned. Marionette climbed out of the tub and drained the water before grabbing the nearby towel and wrapping it around his body.

He blew out the candles and fanned the smoke from his face before taking his leave. He wasn't 2 feet inside of his bedroom when he heard a voice speak out from the shadows. A familiar one.

"It's about fuckin' time you got out."

Marionette jumped slightly when he heard Foxy speak. As it turned out, Foxy was casually lying on the bed this whole time, awaiting his arrival.

"Todd!" He groused, tightening the fist that held his towel together. "Give me a bloody heart attack why don't you."

"Sorry, baby." Foxy embraced him from behind. "Did you like the bath I set up for you?"

"Yes. It was...very nice. Thank you." Marionette smiled slightly as he tilted his head over, allowing Foxy to plant soft kisses on the side of his neck. He rose a hand and ran his fingers through his husband's hair, admiring how luxurious it was.

"Well I'm glad. Because there's more to it." Foxy murmured. He started to walk forward, guiding Marionette over to their bed. He tugged slightly at the other male's towel.

"I'm gonna need you to drop this a little lower." Said Foxy, his lips dangerously close to Marionette's ear.

"You want me to what?" The taller man blushed.

"Well how the hell do you expect me to give you a massage through a towel?" Foxy chuckled, nuzzling Marionette's neck.

It was at that moment when Marionette began to notice the massage oils that sat on a small table next to their bed.

"Oh, So that's what you're playing at, huh?" Marionette smirked playfully as Foxy lowered his towel, only letting it cover him from the waist below. Laying down to face his right, Marionette closed his eyes as Foxy popped open the cap of his oil bottle, lubricated his hands, and got to work.

He started at the back of Marionette's neck, kneading gently into the muscle. Marionette exhaled softly at the way Foxy's fingers dug into his neck. Despite one of his hands being synthetic, there was almost no difference between them. Except for the cold metallic texture that one of them possessed. Which Marionette didn't mind of course; to him it added to the experience.

For what felt like hours to Marionette was only 2 minutes in reality before Foxy's hands began to move south. The cold, metallic fingers of his right hand traced down the imaginary line in Marionette's back, causing the paler man to let out a soft moan. Foxy grinned, wondering what other lovely sounds he could get Marionette to make.

"You like that?" He purred into Marionette's ear, his hands caressing his husband's waist.

"Mn…" Was the only thing Marionette could voice, his words failing him. Foxy chuckled slightly.

"That good, huh?"

"Mmn…"

Foxy's hands traveled upwards to palm at the small of Marionette's back. His fingers curled slightly to admire how soft the other male's skin was. He smirked slightly, taking his hands further down until he was grazing the edge of Marionette's towel. When Marionette felt a hand on his butt, he turned his head back.

"So that's what you're after, hm?" He didn't sound offended, not the least bit. Instead he slowly rocked his hips to and fro, nuzzling his ass into Foxy's touch. Foxy's smirk widened into a grin.

Soon, Marionette felt more weight being put onto him. Foxy has his legs on either side of his body, and straddled his back.

"You know me too well, baby."

And just like that, Foxy was grinding into him. Moving his hips in slow circles just to give Marionette a small taste of how hard he was. He leaned down and slid his tongue across Marionette's back, over the shoulders, across his neck, and between his shoulder blades. Marionette brought his hand up to cover his mouth, muffling a gasp. Foxy grabbed Marionette's hands and pinned them down to the sides of his head, as if to say 'Oh no you don't. I want to hear every gasp and moan you make.'

Foxy lowered Marionette's towel and unzipped his pants. After removing his trousers and applying the lube, he aligned himself. Marionette smiled.

When Foxy entered him Marionette jolted his head up and drew in a sharp breath. His hands began to clutch at the bed sheets, and he bit his lip. "F-Fuck…" He stammered, not expecting the other to ease in so quickly. When Foxy was in at his deepest he moved to nibble at Marionette's ear lobe, relishing in the wonderful moans Marionette produced when he began to move.

Being a man that knew when exactly to take his sweet time, Foxy's thrusts were slow at first. Soon picking up speed when he found his rhythm. Marionette hissed slightly when his hair was tugged, pulling his head up from the sheets that cradled his face. Foxy all but growled as he felt Marionette's ass tighten around his shaft, putting his hands on Marionette's hips and digging his nails into them. This man had too much power over him; far too much power.

Marionette gritted his teeth as a slew of curses flew from his mouth; some dirtier than others. Foxy smirked at Marionette's symphony of obscenities and went down to smother his neck and shoulders in kisses, every fourth one he would nip at the delicate skin and revel in the sharp hiss that escaped his husband's mouth. Foxy adored the way Marionette tried to stifle his moans, the way that his hands clutched at the bed sheets for dear life, the flush on his face that told him just how much he was enjoying himself, and the way that if he were to hit his prostate just right…

Marionette's words currently failed him, Foxy being able to reduce him into nothing more than a stammering mess of pleasure and jumbled words. It took him two minutes to come up with what he wanted to say. Akin to ripened cherries, he carefully picked 3 words that conveyed exactly what he wanted them to. All that was left to do was voice them. With every few thrusts, he managed to slowly spit them out.

"Todd," There was one.
"Fuck." Two.
"Me." Three.

Foxy planted a kiss to the back of Marionette's neck before giving his ass a quick slap and flipping him over to face up to him, resisting the urge to chuckle at the small squeak Marionette produced in an attempt to suppress his yelp. Smiling at the way Marionette's white bangs cascaded over his flushed face, Foxy quickened his pace even more.

Marionette's moans grew louder and more frequent until they were at the point where every thrust was rewarded with a sweet sound from his throat. As Marionette rocked his own hips in an attempt to meet his husband's, Foxy leaned forward and gripped onto the headboard of the bed. Their harsh movements causing it to slam into the wall with an abrasive yet satisfying bang. Beads of sweat rolled down Foxy's tanned body, his heavy breaths blowing directly into Marionette's ear as his arms wrapped around his beloved. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Jackson," He opened.

"Me too…" Marionette answered, feeling his own climax approach. He wrapped his legs around Foxy's waist and his arms around his neck soon followed. Marionette had given up completely on trying to keep quiet a long time ago; every sound he made he was sure that Foxy could hear it loud and clear. Marionette pushed Foxy's head down and collided their lips into a passionate sloppy lock; their tongues messily sliding against each other in a rill of saliva.

He would be lying if he said that he didn't want this to last forever. This moment, this closeness, this intimacy, this bliss. He wanted to stay in this perpetual state of pure ecstasy. To stay in Foxy's arms. To stay like this.

Soon they both stilled, finally reaching their climax. As he felt his husband finish inside of him, Marionette brought a hand up and caressed Foxy's cheek. When he collapsed, Marionette caught him and took to running his fingers through his hair instead.

Eventually their breathing began to settle; enough to form coherent words. However they both needed time to recover from their orgasm.

"Feeling better?" Foxy purred with an eyebrow waggle.

"I am now." Marionette continued to stroke his husband's hair. Foxy laughed.

"You still gonna kick my ass for the fladoodles."

"Oh yes."

Marionette paused.

"Tomorrow."