"PDA, gentlemen," Gary remarked with a smirk in his voice. Norman rolled his eyes and dropped Carter's hand.
"Is holdin' hands really considered 'PDA'?" he wondered aloud. Ireland, a few desks away from where Norman sat across from his husband, scoffed.
"It is, the way you two do it," she said. She didn't take her eyes off her computer screen. Jayden ignored his nosy coworker and sat down.
Though technically not anyone's superior (Norman was outside of the 'tiered' system) the precinct respected him. It had grown on him: his entire career with the bureau had been based on his inferiority to the others. Working as a profiler for the homicide department in Philly, it was different. Norman really did like it there.
Ireland stood up to bring Blake a file. It was at this point that Norman noticed he'd been staring at him. "Hellooo," the brunette sing-songed. Blake snapped out of his thoughts and took the file from her. Norman snickered and Ireland winked at the pair of them.
"Gary!" she called. "We got more PDA over here!"
"Shut up!" Carter retorted. Norman just laughed.
Norman turned the corner and accelerated jerkily. "This is the last time I let you drive anywhere," Blake announced for the third time during the course of the trip.
"You didn't know how to get here!" Norman reasoned. He narrowly avoided hitting the curb. Carter said nothing more as he passed the remaining half of his cigarette to his husband. He smoked quickly and pulled into the driveway of 45 Rockmill Road. "Ready?"
Blake stared at the house with a smirk. "So this is where you grew up. How quaint. I can just see little Norman Jayden running around here…" The other scoffed, ashed and exited the vehicle.
"You comin' or what?"
Carter sighed and followed him towards the front door. It was a small affair, the Jayden house; two stories with a small garden in the front and a patch of grass no bigger than a kiddie pool in the back. A large oak tree flourished in front of the house. It was located in a small suburban area of the capitol; The Monument was visible from the front yard.
"Okay, just be yahself. But don't be the dickwad part of yahself," Norman advised, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground and preparing to knock on the door.
The other rolled his eyes. "Funny." Though it had been his idea to meet Norman's parents (albeit almost two months after their marriage), the lieutenant was now wondering if this was a good idea. Even in his adolescence, he'd never been good with parents, always offending one or another with his 'bad influence'. Norman knocked, and he sucked it up.
"Norm, is that you?" asked a voice from inside the house. The door was opened and Blake saw Norman's mother for the first time. "Aw, there's my baby!" she cried in exuberance. She took her son's hand and kissed him on the cheek, her short stature making Norman bend down to her height.
"Hi, Ma, good to see yah."
Mrs. Jayden turned to Blake. "And you must be Gabriel! Nice to finally meet you, sweetie." Carter gave Norman a questioning look. The brunette laughed awkwardly.
"No, Ma, he's Carter. Gabe and I broke up in twelfth grade."
She laughed and gave Carter a peck on the cheek and an awkward old-lady hug. "Oh, of course, yes I remember now." She looked at the cop with an innocent smile. "I was never good with names. Sometimes I wonder if I'll forget my own name one of these days! I'm Susan." Norman was barely thirty-five, so his mother wasn't nearly as old as Blake's; Blake wondered if she had early onset Alzheimer's or if she was just forgetful.
"Nice to meet you," the black-haired man said as politely as possible.
Susan invited the two in for "tea" and went "to get that lazy man's ass out of his armchair to say hello to his son."
Norman looked adequately embarrassed when they were alone. "Sahry, she's really… out there sometimes."
Carter scoffed. "She's fine, my mom's the lunatic in this family." Norman looked down at his coffee and smiled at his use of the term 'this family'.
Norman's father, significantly older than his mother, entered the room with an air of grandeur. "Norm! Good t' see yah!" he greet emphatically, almost energetically. Quite a contrast to Susan, Mr. Jayden was full of life with little disregard for his age.
"Cahter! I've heard so much about yah, c'mere, boy!" he declared, pulling Blake into an impromptu hug. "Lemme guess: Susan called yah 'Gabriel'."
"Heh, yeah, she did." The other shook his head.
"That woman'll be the death of me. She's had one name for all of Nahman's boyfriends since nineteen-fuckin'-ninety." Carter chuckled at the old man's casual use of the swear word, and was pretty sure of where his husband had derived his accent from. He felt considerably more at-ease as the 'family' sat down for coffee and some sort of inedible pastry of Susan's own creation. 'Guess not all moms are great cooks', he thought.
"Good to see yah finally settlin' down, Norm," his father said approvingly. "Thank God yah got rid of that last one, he was pretty bad."
Norman blushed. "Please, Dad, let's not go there."
Blake grinned. "No, I wanna hear this story."
Mr. Jayden roared with laughter. "Okay, so this guy," he began, setting down his coffee for effect. "What was his name, Susan?"
The woman considered this. "Not Gabriel… What was is… Oh, of course! Anthony!"
Norman sighed as his father continued. "Yeah, Anthony. He was some sort of 'artist' and he was always broke, of-fuckin'-course. Always askin' Norm fer money. What a deadbeat!"
"Okay, vehry funny, Nahman can't pick good boyfriends," the profiler summarized. "Can we move on, please?"
Susan stood up and kissed her son on the head. "We love you, hun." She began gathering up the empty cups and plates (featuring an uneaten piece of 'cake' on each) from the table. "Come help your old mother, Norm." Norman reluctantly complied.
"So, Mr. Jayden – "
"Walter, then. What do you do?" Blake asked for the sake of conversation.
The elder man stood up and motioned for Carter to follow him into the small living room. He pointed to a framed document on the wall: Certified FBI Agent.
"Like father, like son, huh?" Carter asked with a knowing smile. "Let me guess, psychology department?" He recognized the document well; Norman's hung from their bedroom wall, his name in lieu of Walter's. Norman was unlike his father in many respects, more quiet and reserved. ("And gay", he added. "Obviously".) But when it came down to it, Carter could definitely see the family resemblance, both physical and mental.
"Nope," he replied to Carter's earlier assumption. "Forensics. Nahman was always into that mind bullshit though, so that's what he went with." He smiled to himself and looked at the certificate on the wall. "He's a great kid, followin' in my footsteps and all. I only been retired a couple years, so we used to work togethahr."
"Yeah?" Blake commented. "That's interesting. My old man died when I was eleven, never was close to him."
Walter put a hand on Carter's shoulder. "Cahter, so long as you don't hurt my boy, you will always have a family here."
The black-haired man let a shy half-smile creep onto his face. "I wouldn't dream of hurting him, Walt."
"Good man." The old man gave him a sincere smile. "He's been through enough, he has. He needs someone like you."
Blake smiled to himself and they returned to the kitchen.
"You're gonna get fat," Blake declared bluntly. Norman took another bite of cake and promptly told the other man to go fuck himself.
"It's my anniversahry," he explained.
Carter frowned. "No it's not. Wait, anniversary of what?"
Norman smirked. "Six months off Tripto." Carter grinned and high-fived him. "Have I earned the cake, or what?"
"Yeah, yeah. Congrats." Blake was about to say something more when the doorbell rang. "I got it," he murmured when Norman started to stand up from the kitchen table. "How much you wanna bet it's some fuckin'charity beggar again?"
"Don't be an asshole."
He returned a moment later with a box of Girl Scout cookies, and Norman had to restrain himself or otherwise die of laughter. "HAHAHA! G-girl Scout cookies? You're such a fahg!" Jayden cried as he laughed his ass off before him. Blake rolled his eyes and waited for his husband to 'calm his fucking tits', as he put it.
"Fuck you, dickhead, they're good. The way I see it, it's like groceries coming to my door. I don't even have to go out and get stuff now, it comes to me," he rationalized. This didn't stop Norman from practically falling off his chair as he sniggered. "Oh, go fuck yourself."
Norman calmed down a moment later and placed his now-empty plate in the sink. "I'm sahrry," he said insincerely. "Yah nevah make fun of me, right?" Blake ignored his sarcasm.
"Nope. I nevah make fun of yah," Carter replied, imitating the other's accent impeccably. "That'd be mean, Nahman."
The brunette smiled and rolled his eyes fondly at the impersonator. He then mustered up his best 'Carter Blake' voice: "Of course not, never. Because we're both mature, right?" Blake laughed at his poor impression – his accent was seemingly impossible to mask.
They kissed deeply, Blake holding the back of Jayden's neck. "Yah so haht, Nahman," he muttered with an asshole smirk.
He tried even harder this time: "And you're really sexy." Norman wrapped his arms around Carter's neck.
Another kiss. "That was much better, I think you're –" Norman's tongue down his throat cut him off, not that he much minded. He slid his hands under the younger man's suit jacket, pulling him closer. "C'mere." They leaned against the kitchen counter, a lazy, slow, mess of tongues. Jayden inhaled deeply, capturing the other's scent.
They broke apart briefly, breathed desperately against each other's mouths. Carter pressed his lips to Norman's jaw, Norman bracing himself against the counter. Blake relocated his hands to Jayden's ass and sucked roughly on his neck.
"Ahh," Norman moaned, closing his eyes as the lieutenant's tongue worked wonders on his neck. Before he knew what he was doing, he found his hand on Blake's crotch. Then he found his other hand at his belt.
"Norm?" He said nothing as he unlatched Carter's belt, attached his mouth to his own and unzipped his pants. Blake reluctantly pulled away. "What're you doing?"
Still Jayden said not a word as he stroked the other man gently. He locked his eyes onto Carter's and pulled down his boxers. He gave him a shy smile and kneeled.
Blake inhaled sharply. The profiler tentatively stroked him. He took one last deep look at Carter and put his mouth around his hard-on.
For the first time, he tongued Carter's member feverishly, fisting the base that he couldn't reach without practice. He swirled his tongue expertly and bobbed his head. A hum made Blake throw his head back in ecstasy.
"Shit, just like that, Norm," he moaned louder than usual. He put a fist in Norman's hair and another steadied himself against the kitchen counter. "Fuck, fuck."
Frantically, erratically, Jayden forced his own pants down and touched himself. He groaned around Blake's hard-on and deepthroated him. His skills at giving head, so usefully used to pass grade eleven chemistry all those years ago, seemed to come back to him like it was yesterday. "Just like riding a bike," he thought.
Norman's eyes squeezed shut and he hummed again, one hand on his own arousal and the other now exploring Blake's upper thighs. He suddenly looked up, up to Carter's face, now contorted in pleasure like he'd never been given head in his entire life. Jayden's tongue danced slyly around his head, shaft, head, slit… he could barely keep track, his own mind too flooded with adrenaline to think straight. He shook his hair out of his face.
Norman felt Blake's grip on his hair tighten, forcing him down further. He moaned deeply at the feeling and stroked himself impossibly faster.
"Oh my fucking God!" Carter cried desperately. "Gonna c-come."
A surprise to both men, Norman jerked away from his husband as he came hard. A few more frenzied pumps and Norman came too.
Sweaty and hot, the two sat down on the kitchen floor. "Wh-what was that?" Blake managed to choke out as they caught their breaths.
Norman shook his head. "No idea."
"Fuck, I haven't had a fucking blow job in three years." Jayden smirked and closed his eyes. He kissed back unfazed when he felt lips on his own. "Y'don't swallow?"
The brunette blushed. "Nevah have."
Blake grinned. "Well, nobody's perfect. Don't worry, I can fix you."
"Pfft. 'Fix me'?"
Norman smiled. "Well that's gonna take a lot of practice, isn't it?"
"I'd imagine so." A smirk.
"Then we should really get started on that." The profiler stood up and dragged Carter up with him. "C'mon, let's go make the neighbours want to rip their ears out."
Blake laughed and agreed. "I love you, Norm."
"I love yah too, Cahter." They kissed again and headed for the bedroom.
A/N: As usual, not incredibly pleased with the ending, but it'll do. Thanks fer sticking around fellas, tip your waitresses and have a safe drive home.
(I kill myself :D)