The Trick in the Saturday
by Sebastian Blade
all rights reserved
"I'm here," Corey replied. They lay together on the floor, August's head on Corey's shoulder, Corey's arms around him, holding him tight. "I love you."
"I'm frightened. I don't want you to be here too. I want you to be safe. I was happy thinking about you being happy. Why is this happening?"
Corey tightened his hold for a moment, gentle though, aware that August was bruised and tender. "There is a purpose for everything. I couldn't be happy without you. I'd trade a hundred years without you for just this moment, if I had to chose. People are looking for us. They are going to find us."
"I can't tell time. How long have I been gone?"
"This is the second day. Do you trust me?"
"I trust you," August said, a once strong hand trembling as he laced his fingers through Corey's. "I trust you. Tell me what's real."
"You are a strong and powerful man who does good things. You bring law to the people who need it. You're beautiful and clean. Nothing they can do to you will ever take that away. I love you more than life, August Richards. You are a free man with a strong soul."
"I killed a woman," August whispered.
"Your regret is enough penance. You are forgiven, August. Auggie?"
"Um?" August turned a little, trying to hide his erection, eyes red, dark hair tangled and scruffy. "Corey?"
"You're not mad at me? You understand that I needed to be with you?"
Only when he touched Corey's freckled cheek did he realize his fingers were scraped, scabbed. "I understand. Why do people do evil like this?"
"Pain and fear overwhelms people sometimes and they forget their relationship to life and God. We will get through this."
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes," Corey promised. He moved his hand so his palm was against August's palm. "I give myself freely to you in marriage. August Richards V do you freely give yourself to me in marriage?"
"Yes," August said, a bit of life coming back into his eyes.
"I will honor you as my husband for the rest of my life. Will you so honor me?"
"Yes," he said, with more energy.
"If God allows us to have the care of children, will you accept the responsibility with me?"
"How many children are we talking about?"
"Answer the question. I don't know how many children God might give us the responsibility for."
"Yes, I'll raise children with you Corey Anderson."
"Since it is our intention to enter into this marriage, join your hand with mine and declare your consent before God and his Church."
"Isn't that going to get us into deeper shit? Pissing your God off?"
"God would not have given me my love for you if it wasn't his will. I declare before God and his Church that it is my intention to marry you August Richards V, for all my life."
"I declare too."
"I, Corey Anderson, take you, August Richards V, to be my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."
"Aren't you a priest?"
"I stopped being a priest yesterday. I was going to tell you, but I had to wait until I was officially free. Then you were missing. I am free to marry you."
"I, August Richards V, take you, Corey Anderson, to be my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."
"What God has joined, men must not divide. You can give me a ring when we get out of here. It better not be too expensive."
August grabbed Corey to him, holding him desperately tight. "I'll get you a plastic one, if that makes you happy. Corey, are we really married, really?"
"We're married," Corey promised, soothing August's hair. "Bon wanted to pay a ransom, you know. He and Roman were both desperate to have you home."
August shuddered, as if deep lightless tension released it's hold on him. "We're gonna get out of this."
Corey shifted up onto one elbow. "Yes. We are." He ran his hand over August's hip, down to caress his now soft penis. "And we'll have a honeymoon, on our own terms. You can spend as much money as you want on it."
Rough torn fingers caressed over Corey's face, brushing golden red eyebrows, scattered pale freckles and then August's hand disappeared into slightly too long red hair and he kissed his husband, deep and searching. Under the taste of forced plastic, the after taste of drugs and nausea, there was Corey and August, familiar, home, and warm, the shape and textures of love that won't bend to any thing.