templemarker

A Day of Judgement and Reckoning
by templemarker

Note: Leshanah tovah tiktavi vetichatami! Today is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, and I celebrated by writing a little agentverse cookie for . With thanks to callmesandy for not only listening to me talk for ages about things, but also for running her eyes over this for me. No rabbis were assaulted in the writing of this story.

***

“Where the fuck are you going?” Nate called from his study. “I got some of those stuffed pork chops you like on my way home from that meeting. I thought we could grill them tonight, before it gets too cold.”

“It’s never too cold to grill,” Brad said, rolling his eyes. “And I’m going to temple, Nate,” he said, pulling on his shoes. “I told you that this morning.”

Nate ducked his head in the room. “I thought that wasn’t until tomorrow?” he questioned, watching Brad straighten his hated tie.

Brad caught Nate’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s a two day observance,” he said. “This would be the first of the two days.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Nate asked, looking down at his work clothes. “It would take me just a couple seconds to get ready.”

“You can go tomorrow, if you want,” Brad said after a second. “I won’t make you. But my mom would kill me if I didn’t make it to temple on Rosh Hashanah.”

“And you already do so much shit to piss her off,” Nate said with a smile.

“You might have grown up a east coast liberal dicksuck,” Brad said, “but even you know the wrath of a Jewish mother.”

Nate reached forward, helping Brad slip into his coat. “You’re right about the dicksuck part,” he said slyly. “Just consider that your masel tov for when you get home.”

Brad snorted. “I bet you’ll win more points for going to synagogue than I will,” he said. “You don’t even have to go. This is like my Easter and Christmas–three thousand miles away and my mom still emailed me a list of services in town.”

“I don’t make you go to Easter and Christmas,” Nate said, kissing Brad’s shoulder.

“Allow me to take this opportunity to remind you that we are not, in fact, the same person,” Brad said. “And also, you’re a gentile and therefore excluded from my Jewish guilt.”

“But you hide your Jewish guilt so well I forget you have it,” Nate teased. “Episcopalians don’t do guilt. We just read some more stuff and maybe say a prayer and we’re golden.”

Brad snorted. “I think I get off easy,” he said. “She never bugged me about services when I was deployed.”

Nate’s eyes turned serious. “I think she figured you had more important things to worry about.”

Brad hooked his arm around Nate’s neck, pulling him in closer. “I guess I have to put up with G-d when I’m a pussy civilian,” he said, placing a kiss on Nate’s mouth. “It’s a small price to pay to make my mom happy.”

Nate pushed his hand beneath the coat of Brad’s jacket. “I’ll tell her what a good little Jewish boy you were, if you want,” he said, nosing up Brad’s jaw, breathing against his skin. “She wants to see those pictures we took down in Atlantic City anyway.”

“Not the dirty ones,” Brad said.

Nate laughed. “No, not the dirty ones,” he said. “But the one of you and Ray was nice. Before you started tonguefucking his ear.”

Brad grinned. “He always screams like a bitch,” he said, pleased. “Next time I’m going to record that as a ringtone for my phone.”

Nate pulled back, unbuttoning his own shirt. “Go, or you’ll be late,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower. And maybe I’ll make those steaks instead. No reason for you to piss off God more.”

“I think G-d would hate MRE’s more than stuffed pork chops,” Brad said. “Also, thanks for that, now I’m going to be thinking of you wet and naked the whole time.”

Nate’s smile was dirty as hell. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

Brad groaned. “Fuck. Okay. Well, if you want to do something Judaic and useful, you could make apples and honey for dessert. If you tell my mom that you did that, she’ll call you her own son. And maybe I can get out of talking about the service I’m going to.”

“She already calls me her son,” Nate said dismissively, shrugging out of his shirt and pulling off his undershirt. “But I’ll tell her anyway.”

Brad bent forward for another kiss. “I’d say ‘happy new year’ in Hebrew but it would just turn you on,” he said.

“As opposed to you standing there in a suit?” Nate asked. “Go, be religious, call your mom, and come home.”

“Ani O’heve Ot’cha,” Brad said with a sly grin.

“Stop it with your Hebrew school! Get out of here,” Nate said, unbuckling his belt.

“But you make so many good points about staying,” Brad says, eyes affixed on the front of Nate’s pants. As Nate opened his mouth to answer, Brad held up a hand. “I’m going, I’m going. I’ll see you on the other side of the ancient cultural pageantry.”

“Don’t assault a rabbi!” Nate said as Brad left.