Title: Wedding Plans
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@earthlink.net)
Date: 3/1/05
Rating: G
Authors notes: Feedback is more than welcome and can be sent to phobosgirl@earthlink.net
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. None of this is real nor should any implication be made based on this manuscript that I have any insider info on either of these two super-fine men.
Warnings: Gale/Randy RPS
Complete: ongoing

Wedding Plans

“We should do it here, at home. Alone. Just you and me.” I’ve been saying this from the beginning, but Gale never agrees. He knows me too well. He knows that if we do that, I’ll wish later that there’d been family, friends, pictures. Maybe even a cake. But what he wants is important, too, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want a big deal.

He heaves a long-suffering sigh and rolls his eyes at me before returning to his morning paper. How pretty is that, I ask you?

“Ok, fine!” I’m exasperated now, “What do you want?”

He smirks without even looking at me. I’ve asked him this question for days and so far, his answer hasn’t changed. His tone of voice when he says it hasn’t even changed. This time, he just foregoes answering altogether. I fill in the sound of his voice, in my head, “I want what will make you happy.”

“Doing it at home will make me happy.” I answer the voice aloud, and wait for his standard reply. His laugh is quiet. He knows that I’m having this argument with him in my head and out loud.

As if he’s reading from a script, he says, “Yes. That would make you happy. And the next morning you’d start mourning for the family you didn’t hug, and the cake we didn’t get to feed each other, and the wedding photos we don’t have.”

Fuck. I hate it when he’s right. I hate it even more that he knows me so well. And I absolutely loathe when he reads my mind. Or, I would hate all those things about him if I didn’t love him so fucking much that just thinking about him makes my throat tighten and my pulse thump harder.

He folds his paper with a loud snap, stands up and leans over to kiss my temple.

“I love you, too, freak,” he mutters into my hair, responding once again to the voice in my head. He heads off to the kitchen for more coffee.

“I hate it when you do that!” I yell after him.

“No, you don’t,” he answers placidly from the other room. It sets my teeth on edge.

He comes back in from the kitchen with the coffee pot, fills my cup first, then his. He takes his seat again but ignores his paper. I catch all of this out of my peripheral vision because my head is in my hands now. I feel like such a housewife.

“How about a compromise?” He leans in close to me and I can smell his soap and his aftershave. I notice that his hair is still damp from our shower and he has a little razor burn on his neck from when I licked his ear as he was shaving. The flood of his nearness into all of my senses suddenly makes me think that there are other things we could be doing right now than planning our fucking wedding. Things that involve licking and fisted sheets and maybe even a good, firm spanking. Yeah, my dick likes that idea.

“Fuck compromise,” I tell him, “Put your hands on me NOW, please.”

Wedding planning can wait.

The End

Go on to Wedding Plans - 2