FDR Foster

Indie FDR Foster of This Means War. Private NSFW Content

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Carnival Cruise: Chad and FDR

[seenitinbangladesh]

On a big ship, a cruise ship, there wasn’t much movement from the waves. You had to have a very weak stomach to get sea sick on one of them, and Chad would be forever grateful that he did not have a weak stomach. He’d been awakened, not by FDR’s snoring in the bed next to him, not by his alarm going off on his phone to the not so gentle refrain of Moves Like Jagger, but by the horrendous noise of the guy in the next cabin puking his guts out.

“Thank god,” he said with a heavy sigh, his legs tangled in sheets and the gorgeous man who he’d finally spent the night with as he stared at the ceiling. “That is not you or me, and the thin walls are thick enough to block the smell.” The noise alone was enough for Chad to also be grateful that he’d not had much to eat or drink the night before.

But then the two of them had skipped dinner to do something they’d both thought about for months without bothering to call each other to say that they’d been thinking about each other. Yes, Chad and Frank were stupid, but they both had satisfied smiles on their face—at least Chad knew he did. He wasn’t sure about Franklin yet because his face was buried in his pillow.

“Frank? Are you awake? Are you hungry?” He was also praying that he wasn’t late. Chad couldn’t find his phone, and he had a horrible feeling that his client might be trying to find him. He’d had last night for himself, but the WEDDING had to be his priority. And the ship had to be Frank’s. He was the captain after all.

“I’m starving. Chad does not live on cookies and wine alone.” He thought about adding ‘nookie’ to that list, but he was not one to make a cheesy joke like that. Chad was a creature of snark and bitchiness not jokes that would make a 12 year old boy snicker. “I’m going to take a shower, and then we can hit the buffet, OK?”

@seenitinbangladesh

Warmth radiates next to him, the kind that your body unconsciously inches towards like when the sun creeps through a bedroom window every morning. The rest of the world had gone silent for Frank after last night. It was unusual for him to every stay the night, ever. Yet here he was. Mostly because his own room wasn’t anywhere near the Captain’s quarters as Chad would have expected. The last thing he needed was for Chad to offer to escort him back to his room. Talk about an amateur way to blow your cover.

Somewhere in dreamlands dark blanket of warmth, Chad’s voice filtered through his thoughts in an attempt to wake him. Fuck, it was still too early. Shaking off the sluggish haze weighing down his limbs, the agent opened his eyes to find Chad watching him. And as if his head had been pulled from underwater,

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled with a sleepy grin, acknowledging that he was awake. Leaning upward, a hand found the back of Chad’s neck, pulling him forward where their lips met. He lingered there a moment, a soft moan drawn from his throat as he sucks the caterer’s bottom lips between his teeth before pulling away. “Never thought you the type to be up at the ass-crack of dawn…”

Propping himself up on his elbows, a yawn escapes as he examined the cramped little cabin that made up Chad’s room. Sliding reluctantly from the bed, pulling the sheets with him before finally deciding fuck it, he wandered around naked until he spotted his discarded black slacks. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, the screen lit up. Staring him in the face, the bright digital numbers read 8:33 am along with eight missed calls.

“Shit…when I said I’d take a nap, I didn’t think you’d let me sleep all night. Today’s the big day.” His tone is only half serious. Whoops, he was supposed to wander around deck and near Dmitri’s rooms around four this morning to retrieve the outside bugs. Phone clutched in one hand, he slid over to take a seat next to Chad, eyes intensely searching the caterer’s whiskey ones. “If, um, if I ask you to do something for me, can you do it? No questions asked?”

@mrchadwarwick

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Murder My Love: Chad & FDR

[seenitinbangladesh]

“Well shit, aren’t you Mr. Observation,” Chad said with a pout. He should’ve taken something more generic, but it had been ages since he’d had good wine. That shit Vivienne brought into the house was like drinking vinegar or piss. Her taste in whites had been pathetic. Her taste in reds had been vulgar. Chad shivered just thinking about the endless bottles of merlot and zinfandel.

“I might’ve slipped in while the movers were running around.” Constance got away with this shit all the time! For fuck’s sake. She would steal from them! “Saw this one hit the road and wanted to make sure it was OK.”

He pressed the bottle into Franklin’s hand and turn on his heels. “Oh well. Another time perhaps.” When he got to the bottom step, he turned back around and touched the corner of his own lip. “By the way, you’ve got pizza all over your chin, and that robe ain’t hiding nothing.”

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Confusion flickers over FDR’s features, having forgotten the pizza sitting on the coffee table. Tucking the wine bottle under his arm, a hand shot to his chin, swiping away small smears of tomato sauce from the corners of his mouth, the other attempting to close the flaps of his robe. Sure enough, it was open. Great. Without a doubt, Frank was certain he probably looked like a little kid with his hair all over his head and pizza sauce clinging to his face. The last thing he needed was neighborhood gossip that the newest neighbor is a slob who has a tendency to flash anyone bold enough to come to the door.

Unsure of just how much Chad happened to see, the agent fastened the ties of the robe. Still, he couldn’t help noticing the look of disappointment on Chad’s face. Who knows how long he actually sat at his house wondering if he should stop by. Hell, Chad did go to the trouble of swiping one of his own wine bottles from the cellar. The attempt is…kind of adorable.

“W—wait, um…“ FDR suddenly stammered, still caught a little off guard with the knowledge of his previous blunder. Finally, a brilliant smile found its place on his lips. “Y’know, I’ve got a little time. You hungry? Pizza boy was a little generous tonight and it’s plenty to go around. Besides, something tells me your taste buds are hankering for this bottle of wine.” And with that, he stepped to the side to allow Chad passage inside, “Just promise anything you see in here…stays between us. Hm?” He let the last comment linger, allowing Chad’s imagination to run.

@mrchadwarwick

[seenitinbangladesh]

{ Follow the Scent of Death }

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“You’re the one who didn’t believe me,” she reminded him with a cocky smirk. She refused his help and took her own single suitcase to carry to the taxi area to get a ride to their hotel. God help me, she thought, I’ll be stuck with him trying to flirt with me for the rest of this mission! Not that it was any different than she usually had to deal with. It was so typical.

“Glad you enjoyed the nap. I’d hate to have you fall asleep in the middle of our mission.” Peggy turned from him to speak in flawless Russian to a cab driver, giving him the address to their hotel. The driver took their luggage, placing it in the large boot and then held the door open for them to get inside. It was warmer in the taxi, and it smelled of stale Russian cigarettes and old vodka. Lovely.

She sat with her hands folded in her lap on top of her copy of the Gone with the Wind, and watched as they slowly drove through Moscow. “I should assume that he speaks more than Russian,” she cautioned FDR with a dazzling smile of her own. “You’ll want to keep your thoughts about bondage to yourself until we’re in private. If not, you might find it very difficult to complete your objective with a broken wrist.”

seenitinbangladesh

[seenitinbangladesh]

Mimicking her sarcasm, the corners of his eyes crinkled as a cheeky yet not-so-amused smirk of his own flashed over his lips. It was childish, he knew, but not that he particularly cared at this point in time. After having just spent the majority of a fourteen-hour flight unconscious, drooling on a fourteen hundred dollar suit thanks to Peggy drugging her own ‘partner’, he was no longer in a curious and affectionate mood. Of course he had it coming, but he wouldn’t let her know that.

“Yeah, yeah…complain now, sweetheart. Just remember who’s gonna bail you out when those short legs of yours get you captured,” he murmured. Sliding into the back seat with her, the cab driver scurried around and climbed into the driver’s seat with a grin. “Just, um...just hope I’m in the mood when the time comes ‘cause I can assure you…it will. And I’ll never let you forget it.”

Of all people, he had to be on a mission with Bond’s little sister. Lucky for her, she was nice to look at otherwise he wasn’t sure just how many more minutes he could stand of little Miss ‘too-high-and-mighty-to-pull-the-stick-outta-my-ass’. The car lurched off from the curb into morning traffic with a start, moving about the pace of a snail as it aligned with the rush. Despite the acrid scent of the cab, the light airy fragrance of her perfume seemed to keep most of it at bay. Settling comfortably into his seat, electric blue eyes scanned the busy Moscow streets. Thick white tufts of powder snow lined the streets, piled along the curb.

“Mmhmm…I’m not the one bringing up bondage in front of this—fine gentlemen carting us around town,” his eyes flit to hers with the most adorable look of mock innocence she would never be able to match. Wondering just how adorable she must look when flushed, FDR leaned close and lowered his voice, “What’s the matter? ‘fraid I might teach you something the old English Scots only read about in a magazine in the loo? Might not hurt to loosen up a bit, I mean.” 

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Heckler and Koch USP in .357 SIG

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Kisses

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Spicy Mac and Cheese with Smokehouse Ham via A Cookie Named Desire

Recipe: http://cookienameddesire.com/spicy-macaroni-and-cheese-with-smokehouse-ham/

Submitted by acookienameddesire, thank you!

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This means war (2012)

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Carnival Cruise: Chad and FDR

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mrchadwarwick:

The kiss on the back of his head was nice. Chad was always a sucker for a gentle touch, not that his breath didn’t catch when FDR yanked at his jeans and underwear—too say nothing of the little slap on his ass. That one he wasn’t sure he liked all that much, but it was their first time together so they had a learning curve to consider. Also a light tap on the butt did not require a safe word, although Chad had never used his safe word, Veronica, who was his favorite character in Heathers, he still had it.

“No, why would you think that?” Good, he thought, that didn’t sound desperate at all! “Are you?” He looked at FDR’s crotch, at his own, and then arched his heavy brows at the other man. There was not enough cold water on the ship to take care of him if Franklin changed his mind. “Nope, don’t think either of us has changed their mind—little head and big head seem to be on the same page.”

Chad hooked his thumbs into his own pants and pulled off the outer and inner layer at once. Best part about the cruise was there was no cold air to send a shiver down his spine or anywhere else. “Plain as day.”

Of course that’s when he realized that his shaving kit was in the tiny bathroom, which meant the lube and condoms were in there too. Obviously the little head had kept the big head from proper planning like putting those on the night table. Now he had to go and get them, taking the mood down yet another notch. “Except the lube and condoms are in the bathroom, because I was a shitty Boy Scout.”

seenitinbangladesh

He’s rambling, Frank thinks. And as he continues on, Frank was observing every minute of it, concentrating on something else entirely. Like the movement of his bow-shaped lips as Chad spoke. There’s a fascinating battle of emotions flickering in those brown eyes: confusion and lingering uncertainty. But finally, when the layers of clothing are pulled down, that hardened length bobbing free of its confinement, Frank’s blue-eyed gaze is drawn to it and already his mouth has begun to water. For weeks, he’s wanted to see him exposed and vulnerable like this. But Chad was still talking?

The agent leans in suddenly, their lips just barely touching as he speaks, his voice a quiet low hum, “Oh, c’mon—that’s an easy fix. Good thing I’m not a shitty Boy Scout ‘cause someone’s gotta be a leader around here.” Having been around the block more than a few times (and having made mistakes in the heat of the moment), protecting himself wasn’t something you just forget anymore. Not at his age, anyway.

And with that, Frank offers a wink, his fingers teasingly skirting along the flushed skin of the caterer’s length before pulling away and vanishing into the bathroom. It’s tidy, sparkling clean. Not surprising. But for a ship this size, it was almost remarkable that the bathroom somehow looked like a tiny little hobbit hole. No way in hell they’d be able to shower together afterward. Scanning the basin quickly, he spotted a leather kit and plucked it from the counter, eager to return to the man waiting patiently for him in the other room.

Strolling back in as bare as the day he was born, Frank spots Chad standing near the wall adjacent the bed, watching like a naked dear in headlights. With a smirk, the agent’s eyes rake over the dark hair of Chad’s chest, his swarthy skin. The bag is tossed onto the bed and he closes in on Chad, his hands pressed to either side of his head to pin him between them. Before the caterer could open his mouth again to prattle off something unimportant, FDR pressed his forehead against Chad’s, “Shut up and kiss me.”

mrchadwarwick