It's not every day that a plan hatched out of impish playfulness is clearly reaching a fruition level that you didn't expect it to, let alone actually goes further than your plan.
Erin had been fairly vocal for the last what, three months now? About that new coworker whose wife had filed for divorce a couple weeks before Christmas. He wanted kids, she kept complaining that children were the worst of the fucking worst in terms of leaving you any time or energy to give a crap about life. Complete mismatch, making it obvious to both that they'd gotten married for the tax benefits, and not for the feelings they caught while hooking up. The guy was now firmly disillusioned by the concept of love, that he'd begun swearing off women who wouldn't give him kids if they were able to support them. But nonetheless, Axel had been smiles and jokes, seemingly taking the divorce well. Either he truly did, or this was a "fake it 'til you make it" thing, was anyone's guess, but at the company's Christmas party, it seemed like he was a fun guy.
But what started as a drunken joke with his wife's coworker, trading phone numbers to start chatting all about it, Blake was now slowly starting to feel was taking a brand new life's breath of its own as January closed, and the conversations with Axel were moving along, and both guys seemed to be very interested into that joke of a plan, then that plan that would likely fail, then after a few playful conversations with Erin from either of them... Well, it was now a solid idea to make her happy. It was a simple idea, really.
Blake would have the romantic part of the night with Erin, get her just light-headed enough not to question anything, get her exactly worked up enough that she'd have trouble walking the plank back to the ship, and would be taking that dive, head first, then swim into the sea of consequences. Axel would then be let in subtly, and encouraged to go see Erin, and take her as if they'd been long years lovers. No shyness, no being coy, just... Fuck her, and get your fucking fill.
And that was truly how the men had been talking for the last couple of months. Axel would say something crude, and Blake would ask details, and often get to a point where Axel said that he would cum inside Blake's wife. A couple nights later, Blake would send a quickly snapped nude of Erin to the punk man, asking him for something fairly sexy as a comment. Anything from "those nips would look better pierced" to "bet her face would look great covered in cum", and at least once, while Erin was busy at work, Axel had joined Blake in a joint jacking off session, as they dirty talked about her.
And yet, despite all that dirty talk, despite all that planning, it seemed to Blake like the plan was weak, and ready to collapse under its own weight, and they were adding more. Her favorite food, a good wine... And a night with a new lover who had been given a blank check and the thumbs up. Hell, maybe Axel would get his wish, but Blake didn't quite comment on that... No, that wasn't right. Blake refused to comment on it, because entertaining the idea just felt too real, and he'd rather that be something that became real before it felt real.
The night before, less than a full 24 hours to the dinner, the men joined up as Blake had been picking up the best pieces of chicken to do stuffed chicken breasts, and flowers. The men walking into the florist didn't seem too much of a special instance, as a gay couple was wrapping up a purchase a few places up the line to the register, but that didn't even phase Axel. Blake did get a tad nervous, as they were finalizing the details, but he meant this purchase as a way to seal all the deal.
Another dozen of minutes, but walking out with two dozens of flowers in a bouquet with Axel in tow, as the punk seemed confused as to what the assortment, despite colorful and expertly made, could even be for. After all, Blake seemed to want some specific flowers, which gave the florist pause for thought, then a grin of mischief. Yet, the married man seemed more than happy with his bouquet of zinnia, sparse with delphiniums, and a single daisy in the middle of it all, a fairly large one to boot, which every other touched at least once. Well, it's not like he had it yet, she was going to arrange that for the next day.
"It's not just about giving her something pretty and displayable, but I had to do a little bit of research, see. Victorians used to send subtle messages in the shape of plants, mainly flowers and herbs though. Keep it to flowers, and I doubt she'll even realize, so if you want to flex your romance to her, you can go for it. The delphiniums represent open heart fickleness, to say that she should be open to fun tonight. The zinnia are so she knows I'll remember her even if I'm not there for her to hold. The daisy in the middle is a promise to never tell, and the sprigs of tarragon sparse here and there are meant to be that this has been an interest she wanted for a while."
Axel seemed impressed, but he doubted he would remember that in the midst of anything later on, let alone with some of his blood busy where he would care more. "Well, I'm not promising not to fuck that up." A joke, but an honest one, as they returned to the parked car. "So, you said you'd get her ready for around 8?" Blake nodded, and smiled at his newest friend, as it seemed they were in agreement. "And you get her until the morning, and after that, you let me and her have the talk we should have had last month." Axel, shrugged. "What if I don't?"
The silence fell between them. Blake wasn't about to lie about how he probably wouldn't mind if Axel didn't, but he was still a good husband, or at least he tried to be, and he still wanted to do this right, nay, to do this like the art of opening up. "If you don't, I might have to get a much more serious chat with Erin." His words were soft, and didn't even have the bite of a man who meant them. They both definitely knew exactly what that tone meant, too. But they gave each other a bro hug, and Axel started walking to his own car as Blake drove home.
The evening was somehow much more exciting, as he was finalizing the last few bits of the plan. Chicken breasts in the fridge to be cooked, the wine ready to be opened, and Axel seemingly silent. He wasn't sure if the punk's silence was suspicious or a good omen, but he chose to interpret it as a light form of teasing him. The evening advanced more and more, and what was routine then became a source of remembering some of the nastier things Axel said about Erin. Yet Blake's patience wasn't thinning.
And the night wasn't any different from the last few, except that Blake had mumbled more in his sleep than he realized. Not that Erin would hear any of it, but Blake's voice felt a bit coarse in the morning, almost as if he'd spent the night giving a full speech. And after a delicious breakfast, they both left for work, and the last few hours to the fateful moment was on.
Blake had taken a half day, claiming he wanted to set up a bigger surprise for his wife now that they were married, to not lose the spark, allowing him to leave around 1, and get home before the half of that hour. Time to get to work. He set up a camera in the bedroom, one he could access remotely, a higher quality nanny cam if one would. This was something Erin knew he had bought shortly after Christmas, and she joked a few times that they could set it up so that a couple friends could watch them go at it. Well, this would be it, though she didn't know Blake would be looking at it. A quick trip out to get the floral assortment, and back home into a vase with a little note written on a card sitting around the daisy.
Once that was set up, he started slashing into the chicken breasts, putting a mix of shredded cheese, breading, and barbecue sauce inside of the cuts to let it melt and seep in, and covered it with a light salad dressing oil, and threw them in the oven around 4, knowing they would be fresh out of there by 5:15, when Erin would get home. He washed up, then came back down to get on the creamy rice broccoli rice, and by the time it was perfectly cooked, and placed into plates, Erin opened the door to the smell of chicken boiling.
"I'm home!" She announced, though Blake knew exactly when she would be, and was pulling the tray of chicken out. "Take a minute to remove your shoes, kick off your bag, and come in for the romantic night of your life." The man commented from a few rooms over, but he expected her curiosity to win with that card. And he was right, as she hadn't heard a single word he said as her attention was on the flowers, and on the card. By the time she finally turned around to the kitchen's door frame, holding the card, and a clearly happy smile on her face, she was definitely already in the mood for romance. She read from the card, as if to emphasize what she'd ready, and give him a chance to change a few words if he wanted.
"To my Erin, Whose eyes are that of the freshly watered grass, I only want to wish a day of mischief, passion, and daring. May your night be exciting, and define the year to come for us. I love you, whether I'm near or far, for the world can only separate us by a few clicks, and make our kiss sweeter when we can hold one another again. Your generous husband, Blake." She looked at him, not quite sure if it meant anything beyond a declaration of devotion, but she liked it. It cut deep with a blade of sweetness, and it would be a wound she'd cherish for decades to come. "And that, my man, is how you win a lady's heart."
She walked to the kitchen, and took Blake's 'kiss the chef' apron at its word, saying hi like couples should, quietly looking at the table for two, holding two fuming, pungent plates of her favorite meal he could cook. "I don't suppose you've been at work all day?" She pointed out, letting Blake ensure they wouldn't die in a fire that night, closing the oven and the stovetop, and snatching the corkscrew from the drawer, the wine bottle already resting next to the two candles on the table.
"Guilty as charged, and I want you to feel free of it, so I'll take all the blame if my boss gives me a talking to." He smirked, and as he neared the table, took the metal to the bottle's cork, opening it for them, and slowly pouring them both a proper glass. "Once a gentleman, always a generous man. Generous of my love, of my time, and of my passion." He said, pulling her chair, inviting her over there, seating her as if it was their first serious date.
