Paul tapped a foot and crossed his arms. He had heard Zay’s van drive up, and he had grimaced at the screech of tyres. No doubt realizing how late he was, Paul thought with a dismal shake of his head.

Putting on a much sterner face than he actually felt, Paul opened the front door, parked himself at the porch, waiting.

*Damn it, I'm really late, and Paul's at the front door. Damn.*

Zay got out of the van and gave his waiting, exasperated lover a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I had some dim sum with friends and it took forever for us to get served and even longer to get the bill." He gave Paul a kiss on the cheek. "You smell like curry."

Paul kissed Zay back, and then promptly swatted him on his behind. Hard enough to elicit a gasp and a yelp. “Yes, I made lamb curry for dinner. And no, being caught up with friends is NOT an excuse for being late. Get your butt inside, and we will talk about this after dinner. Move!”

Paul had already set the table, and as always when they had curry, he had chilled a nice bottle of white wine in the fridge. He served them both with generous portions, and brought out a loaf of crusty bread for dipping into the rich thick gravy.

“So tell me, what does a curfew mean, Zay?”

*It means I'm gonna get a lecture with my curry*

"I thought we were gonna talk about this after dinner?”

Paul raised his eyebrows and Zay hurried to say, “A curfew means I'm supposed to be home at a certain time. And I wasn't caught up with friends as much as I was a victim of slow restaurant service. I shoulda made it home in plenty of time. Wasn't deliberate."

Paul shook his head. “No darling, unacceptable! You don’t go and blame slow waiters when you don’t plan your time properly. You know full well I wanted you home by 5pm. What you do prior to 5pm was within your control. You may take yourself up to bed right after dinner.”

When you are sitting down, you really can't stomp effectively, so Zay settled for stabbing a piece of lamb, with vigour. "I'm lousy at scheduling my time and you've known that from the beginning. And I'm not five, Paul. I can't believe you're sending me to bed like that. For being late?"

"Yes, it is punishment for breaking your curfew.” Paul went on chewing, placidly.

Zay viciously stabbed another piece of lamb. "Fine, but I think it's a bit over the top, just because I was a few minutes late. Ok, ok, it was a half hour, but still...”

Paul smiled. “Well, I am hoping that will reinforce good behaviour. And remind you that curfews are to be obeyed.”

"I know that Paul." Zay managed, barely, to keep from rolling his eyes. "To change subjects, the curry came out really well. It's what first attracted me to you, you know, your cooking. I made a point to crash all the functions you catered. Then you caught me and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Yes it did, and thank you for the compliment, but you are still going to bed after dinner."

"Bugger it."