# 2
"No. I did it after the wedding an' that was it. I said I'd never get talked into it again an' I meant it. Besides, you know how I feel about... that."
"Yeah, right. I know you want to.... just this once. We're all by ourselves, kid. C'mon...."
"I said no! A gun to my head couldn't make me go there again. Forget it!"
"Do you really need to be reminded about what happened in bed that night, huh?"
"Bobby.... you swore you'd never mention that...."
"Hey, it was your choice."
"Damn it, Hobbes..."
"You picked Faith Hill for your "how I really feel" song. You opened the can a'worms....."
"Aarrrgh..."
"Big ol', country-music-singin' worms." Bobby pressed, producing the most evil grin he possibly could.
"I keep tellin' you she's a cross-over artist!"
"Yeah, but she started in country, didn't she? Now, c'mon.... you gotta."
"Noooo..."
"Yes. Get your ass over here.... and dance with me."
"But it's not even a slow song..... Ah crap.... okay, okay."
Reluctantly, grudgingly, Darien plodded to where Bobby waited. The smaller man slid his hands around his husband's waist and tugged him closer before starting the CD with the stereo remote and tucking the device away in a pocket. As the song began, Bobby's hands moved gradually lower. Darien sucked in a surprised breath then relaxed, gazing into Bobby's eyes as he draped his hands around the other man's neck and laced his fingers. It took a moment for him to catch up, but soon the two were moving in rhythm.
... and if you ain't noticed, the kids are fast asleep and you're One Hot Mama, You turn me on, let's turn it up and turn this place into a sauna. You're One Hot Mama, Whadda you say babe, you wanna?
The lyrics made Darien laugh, lean in and murmur in Bobby's ear.
"I'm still not crazy about you callin' me that name you know."
"Yeah, but you don't bitch about it so much anymore."
"Mama.... That's what Bobbi calls me. It's not so bad, I guess."
.... and you worry about your hips, and you worry about your age, meanwhile I'm tryin' to catch the breath you take away.....
"Hips? You tryin' to tell me somethin', Hobbes?"
"That ain't the message I was pushin'....." Bobby chuckled.
"Oh yeah? So what is the message, huh? Tell me...."
Bobby groaned very quietly. Darien's "magic words" seemed to have more and more of an impact on his husband as the months passed. The younger man knew this perfectly well, but, to his credit, took advantage of his knowledge only rarely.
"You turn me on.....hot mama.... the part about takin' my breath away...."
"Oh. Message received." Darien responded, dropping his face down and capturing Bobby's lips in a powerful, unexpected kiss that caused the hands caressing his ass to clutch briefly. Minutes later, the two finally pulled apart, expelling warm, moist breath onto each other's flushed faces.
"Damn.... I didn't mean it... literally...."
"Are you complaining?"
"No way.... never...."
"Didn't think so. Bert...."
"Yeah?" Bobby replied weakly, knowing what question was coming and ashamed that it terrified him.
"It's not gonna be much longer is it? Until we go to bed.... and don't get any sleep."
"I want that, Ari..... I want you. It's just.... I...."
"I know. It scares me too. I'm ready to move on from kisses, but first.... we need to have a couch talk. There's stuff... about the past.... my past...."
"Ari, no. You don't have to tell me any a'that. Anything that happened while you were locked up...."
"This isn't about prison. Not exactly, anyway.... it's hard to explain."
"You should sort through it with Cheryl first."
"You don't mind?"
"No way. Do what you need to. Long as you come home to me."
"Always. Always, baby...."
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"No. I did it after the wedding an' that was it. I said I'd never get talked into it again an' I meant it. Besides, you know how I feel about... that."
"Yeah, right. I know you want to.... just this once. We're all by ourselves, kid. C'mon...."
"I said no! A gun to my head couldn't make me go there again. Forget it!"
"Do you really need to be reminded about what happened in bed that night, huh?"
"Bobby.... you swore you'd never mention that...."
"Hey, it was your choice."
"Damn it, Hobbes..."
"You picked Faith Hill for your "how I really feel" song. You opened the can a'worms....."
"Aarrrgh..."
"Big ol', country-music-singin' worms." Bobby pressed, producing the most evil grin he possibly could.
"I keep tellin' you she's a cross-over artist!"
"Yeah, but she started in country, didn't she? Now, c'mon.... you gotta."
"Noooo..."
"Yes. Get your ass over here.... and dance with me."
"But it's not even a slow song..... Ah crap.... okay, okay."
Reluctantly, grudgingly, Darien plodded to where Bobby waited. The smaller man slid his hands around his husband's waist and tugged him closer before starting the CD with the stereo remote and tucking the device away in a pocket. As the song began, Bobby's hands moved gradually lower. Darien sucked in a surprised breath then relaxed, gazing into Bobby's eyes as he draped his hands around the other man's neck and laced his fingers. It took a moment for him to catch up, but soon the two were moving in rhythm.
... and if you ain't noticed, the kids are fast asleep and you're One Hot Mama, You turn me on, let's turn it up and turn this place into a sauna. You're One Hot Mama, Whadda you say babe, you wanna?
The lyrics made Darien laugh, lean in and murmur in Bobby's ear.
"I'm still not crazy about you callin' me that name you know."
"Yeah, but you don't bitch about it so much anymore."
"Mama.... That's what Bobbi calls me. It's not so bad, I guess."
.... and you worry about your hips, and you worry about your age, meanwhile I'm tryin' to catch the breath you take away.....
"Hips? You tryin' to tell me somethin', Hobbes?"
"That ain't the message I was pushin'....." Bobby chuckled.
"Oh yeah? So what is the message, huh? Tell me...."
Bobby groaned very quietly. Darien's "magic words" seemed to have more and more of an impact on his husband as the months passed. The younger man knew this perfectly well, but, to his credit, took advantage of his knowledge only rarely.
"You turn me on.....hot mama.... the part about takin' my breath away...."
"Oh. Message received." Darien responded, dropping his face down and capturing Bobby's lips in a powerful, unexpected kiss that caused the hands caressing his ass to clutch briefly. Minutes later, the two finally pulled apart, expelling warm, moist breath onto each other's flushed faces.
"Damn.... I didn't mean it... literally...."
"Are you complaining?"
"No way.... never...."
"Didn't think so. Bert...."
"Yeah?" Bobby replied weakly, knowing what question was coming and ashamed that it terrified him.
"It's not gonna be much longer is it? Until we go to bed.... and don't get any sleep."
"I want that, Ari..... I want you. It's just.... I...."
"I know. It scares me too. I'm ready to move on from kisses, but first.... we need to have a couch talk. There's stuff... about the past.... my past...."
"Ari, no. You don't have to tell me any a'that. Anything that happened while you were locked up...."
"This isn't about prison. Not exactly, anyway.... it's hard to explain."
"You should sort through it with Cheryl first."
"You don't mind?"
"No way. Do what you need to. Long as you come home to me."
"Always. Always, baby...."
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