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_© All characters and storylines involving said characters belong to me: Eben Black.

Here's a lil' something I'm working on for fun while my assessments are going on at uni. Don't really have time to sit down and work on anything too serious, so here's a little story that I might work on in depth a bit more when I have a bit more time. As usual there is M/M relationships and loving involved. 18+ only. Happy fappin' :D

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1.

Formal dinners. I hated them. What was it about this simple social gathering that ticked me off so much? The formal attire? No. I looked damn good in a suit. Was it the etiquette that annoyed me? Nope. I could handle being the more polite Sasha, compared to the usual down-to-Earth version. So what was it about them that frustrated me so much? To be honest. I had no idea. There was something, something about them that just made me want to climb back into bed and hide. Hide? Me? Sasha Hudson, Los Angeles' most renowned preternatural investigator? Surely not. But there you have it.

I stood in the bathroom, half-dressed. I had slipped into the dress pants of the tailored Italian suit. What? Italian-cut was always comfortable and looked good on my toned frame. I made enough money in investigation to pick up a suit or two. The line of the pants never creased as it fell down my legs in a flow of black material. I had the dress shirt, done in palest blue, buttoned up and fastened in place. The collar was upturned and I was struggling with that black tie that for whatever reason eluded me. I'd tied a tie a hundred times. Why was I struggling now? I fastened it for the umpteenth time and frowned at what I saw. I snatched the tie from my throat and started over. The suit's jacket hung on the back of the bathroom door while I fiddled with that slender tie.

It was a wedding reception, not a date with the queen of England. I fastened it into place and winced. I hated it. I pulled it free and started over. The wedding had occured earlier that morning at ten o'clock. I hadn't been invited. I had heard the grand event was family only. Fair enough. Wasn't my wedding, so who was I to bitch and moan? It was plain to see that I was anxious. I growled low in my throat as I undid the tie again. A stifled laugh slashed all the hushed silence that the bathroom had swamped me in. I looked up and found Shane Rochelle, a six-foot-four, broad-shouldered, muscular shire horse, fresh from the festivities of his older brother's wedding. His own suit fit to the towering frame and never broke its line, even with all that muscle packed inside it. His own tie, draped around his neck as he leaned against the door frame and grinned at me. If he wasn't so boyishly handsome, I'd have been as pissed at him as I was at the tie. "Having trouble there?" he asked in that deep, familiar voice I'd grown to love. I nodded and stifled a pout. I would not be a brat about this. "I think its anxieties that's making me so angry at the damn thing," I said as I draped the tie over one shoulder. Shane stepped into the bathroom and grinned at me still. Most people found my moods dangerous, while he found them adorable. "You have nothing to be anxious about." "That's what you think? Your not meeting your partner's parents for the first time," I replied as I watched him move into the bathroom in the mirror above the sink. "I told you we could ride out to Louisiana anytime and meet your folks if you wanted," he reminded me. "My folks? My homo-hating parents and their judgemental comments? I doubt that, Shane, I really doubt that." I grinned as I said it. I looked back at my reflection. I stood at five-foot-seven. Not bad for a husky of twenty-one, but compared to Shane I was a damn dwarf. I have light blue and white fur, white across the chest, stomach and hands, the rest was the pale, pastel blue that newborn baby boys sometimes wear. The pastel blue matched the pale-blue colour of my eyes. The eyes had been inherited from a hateful father. Believe it or not, but you can go to college, get a degree in an excellent field, earn a fantastic living, help loads of people, and still be considered an animal to your folks for simply being gay. Sad, but true. Shane had offered a couple of times to help me reconsole with my folks. No thanks. I cared about our relationship here in LA more than I cared about them. Did I still love them? Kinda. It was hard to hate the people you've loved for a generous portion of your life, but there you go. Life, I suppose.

Shane stepped up behind me, hands gripped my shoulders as he leaned down and nuzzled his face against mine. He was one, warm comforting line behind me. We'd dated for seven months and had traded keys to one another's apartments. I lived here in the Pallisades, while he lived in Malibu. The apartment was one of those open-planned modern ones. All varnished floorboards, kitchenette raised on its own platform at one end, and a balcony-area with the master bedroom and en suite bathroom. It was a regular bachelor pad, not that I saw it much during the day. This was my first weekend off in over six months. It had been rough trying to date and work endless hours at once. I had pulled it off though, through strategic scheduling and late night cuddles on the couch. The odd dinner date here and there, and we'd made it.

Shane lifted the tie from around my neck and started to fasten it in place while standing behind me. I'd seen others fasten from the front, but never from behind. You learn something new everyday. He tightened it and pulled it a little closer than needed. It was perfect. He reached for the jacket and helped me slip into it. He leaned close when he had fastened the buttons on the jacket and tucked the tie down, beneath the V-neck of the jacket. He trailed his hands over the shoulders and smoothed it into place. He slipped his arms around my middle and rested his head against my shoulder, looking at me in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. "There," he whispered. "Thanks." "Is it wierd that all I wanna do now is get you undressed and into the shower with me?" he asked with a grin. I could feel that rush of heat. Me? Blushing? Damn you, Shane. "I'd be offended if you didn't want to," I said. See. I could still be flirtacious, even in the middle of an intense blush. He grinned wider and kissed my jawline. "Perhaps later tonight," he whispered before he turned and headed out of the bathroom, into the master bedroom. I frowned and watched him leave the bathroom, positively bouncing with childish glee. "We are so not fucking at your parents' house tonight!" I called after him. "We'll see," he called back over his shoulder. He'd started fastening his own tie. "Yeah we will." "Aren't you going to ask how the wedding went?" he asked as he perched himself on the end of the bed and looked back at me. I padded into the bedroom and watched him at the threshhold of the door. "How did it go?" I asked. He smiled and replied, "As perfect as a wedding could go. The mother's sobbed, the father's looked on proudly, and the flower-girl got a sickening "awww" from the onlookers." He looked thoughtful for a heartbeat and then said, "And I think James is banging one of the other bridesmaids. Chantelle, I think." "What makes you think that?" I grinned back. James was his younger brother. The Rochelle household had had three sons. James being the youngest in his late-teens. "He and the bridesmaid in question have been blushing and exchanging looks all day. I think the onlookers were more interested in their antics than the actual bride and groom," he laughed. "That's weddings for you. The bride looks beautiful, the groom looks dashing, but its the backstage antics that get people interested," I replied. He nodded and said, "Dad's looking forward to meeting you, by the way. He asked about you earlier." I padded across the bedroom, headed for the wardrobe. I tousled Shane's long, dark brown hair as I passed him. "Thanks for trying to make me more comfortable." He looked up at me, nonplussed. He had a pale brown coat on him, trimmed fine and close to that muscular form. His head hair was long and dark brown, a wavy mass that he'd braided over one shoulder for the event. I looked into those pale-brown eyes of his and added, "Your father never asked about me." "He did. I'm being serious. He asked how things were with us and when I said they were excellent, he said "good, I'm looking forward to meeting him at last", promise." He even did a salute. "Fine, fine." I fastened the dress shoes in place with their small buckles and let the pants cover them before turning and holding up my arms at my sides like a mannequin. "How do I look?" He looked me up and down and then murmured, "I don't know." "W-What?" "I feel like somethings missing, something that you wear all the time and have taken out." He lay back against the bedspread and reached for the bedside table. He picked up the three small, silver loop piercings I owned. "Seriously?" I replied with a raised eyebrow. "Sasha, all I ask is that you be yourself tonight. I've told them all about you and they are genuinely excited about meeting you. Honest. So, please wear what your comfortable in," he assured me as he held up the small loops. "No one's gonna disapprove?" I asked. He stood and stepped up close to me and grinned, "I might have to disapprove a little later, but we can deal with your punishment when that time comes." He spilled the loops into my open palm as he spoke. I frowned back and could still feel the blush growing hotter and hotter. "I-am-not-fucking-in-your-parents-condo," I said through the frown. "Like I said, we'll see." I fastened the loops into place, one on my left, lower ear, while the other two fastened into the tip of my right. "Fine. Now how do I look?" I asked. He looked me up and down again and then dipped his head, his lips brushed mine. The warm flesh on flesh contact made me melt for a second. The kiss deepened and then he slowly pulled back. He held me close against that towering frame, the muscles under his suit tensed a little where I supported myself against him. Was he flexing for my benefit? Surely not. I was a little breathless from the suddeness of the kiss. I shuddered a little and shook like I had just climbed out of the shower wet. "Do not do that tonight," I breathed against him as he leaned his forehead against mine. "Your my partner, my lover and my best friend. I'll do what I like with you tonight. I told you, my family is a lot more accepting than you realise. I promise," he assured me for a second time that morning. "What time is it?" I asked. He glanced at his wristwatch. A rolex no less. "Almost half twelve. The reception doesn't start for another half an hour...and we can be fashionably late if you wanted?" he suggested. A dark look bathed those pale-browns in heat. He moved an inch closer and I could feel him through his pants. He was growing harder and harder the more he pressed himself against me. I moved my knee a fraction closer to his groin and he flinched in mid-grind. "Reception first, playtime when this weekend is over." I grinned as I said the warning. He grinned back and whispered, "I cannot wait for tonight." I smirked and sniped, "Nothing is happening tonight, Shane. Trust me."

He continued grinning and then leaned in. We kissed, gentle and chaste. No more antics. Time to meet the rest of the Rochelle family. Was I still nervous? A little. I'd rather be out at a crime scene now, than about to meet what could be possible, future in-laws. It was 2010. Sooner or later we'd be allow to wed like straight folks. Someday, perhaps. Til then, I was cool being Shane's partner. It was better than being called his boyfriend. Partner sounded that much more solid than boyfriend.

Don't you think?