Just One Day

Just One Day

A Club Imperial Short

© Katherine Rhodes 2015
***Content Warning***
Adult language and Situations
Intended for audiences 18+ ONLY

Victor walked into the kitchen, and found Franz staring blankly at the television as his coffee cup slowly descended to a horizontal position, spilling a few drops. Victor sprinted over and grabbed it before it hit critical, and saved the coffee.

“Franz!” he snapped. “Come on, that’s the good stuff. What are you doing?”

Franz turned and looked at Victor, his eyes sparkling and joyful. “Do you know what was supposed to happen today?”

“The…painter is coming at one for an estimate?”

“Obergefell V. Hodges.”

Victor was lost. “Is that before or after the next Pacquiao fight?”

Franz put the mug down on the table and backed him against the wall, Victor’s face cradled between his hands. “You are so adorably befuddled, it’s endearing.”

The kiss that followed was searing, scorching. It blazed through Victor as though his blood was on fire. He had no choice, his whole body joined him in returning the same hot desire Franz sent through him, and wrapped his arms around the man who meant everything to him. “What is this about?” he murmured as Franz’s hand unlaced the robe he was wearing.

“Us, our lives, our everything,” Franz said, his hand suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly wrapping around his awakened length. “All the promises we’ve made, all the dreams we’ve had.”

Victor was lost to the ministrations that Franz’s deft fingers visited up on him. “Franz, we agreed…”

“I know, in the bedroom only. But I want to feel you against me right now. I want every part of you here with me.”

“Right this instant.” Victor breathed slowly, his words more as a statement than a question.

“You really don’t know?” Franz asked.

Victor broke his own rule as his lover’s hands warmed and stroked his body. He unfastened Franz’s belt and pulled his clothes out of his way only just enough to take the part of him he worshiped in his hand and return the feelings of bliss. “I don’t. Tell me, before I let you take me on the counter.”

“That’s no incentive to share,” Franz stated, a little pressure on the erection in his hand making Victor squirm with anticipation.

“Goddamn it, Franz. Our daughter is asleep upstairs.”

Franz paused. “Our daughter.” The kiss he took from Victor was possibly more demanding and more possessive than the first, and Victor briefly thought about letting him have his way right there. But Sylvia was upstairs, with Laurel. And Laurel certain didn’t need to see their sexcapades, even if she couldn’t help hearing them sometimes.

Franz’s hand reached the base of him, and he caressed the heavy sac that hung there unfettered by underclothes of any sort. “Let me take you upstairs. I want to make love to you, I want to fuck you. And by the end of today I want answer to my question.”

“What question?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Damn Franz, you know you I would but the law…”

“Obergefell V. Hodges.”

“How the hell is that romantic?”

“It’s the name of the Supreme Court case.”

Victor froze. “It passed.”

Franz nodded. “We’re legal.”

Victor cradled Franz’s face in his hands this time, and pierced him with a demanding kiss. “Yes. Yes. And yes. Take me upstairs and make love to me. Take me upstairs and fuck me. And yes, by all that good in this world, I will marry you.”

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