New Year's Eve 2009
Lyla & Louis
"He's not going to have a good sleep and he'll be cranky all day tomorrow," Lyla complained, irritated at Louis' insistence on taking Ben with them to Marshall and Maya's New Year's party.
"He'll be fine," Louis returned. "Mateo's goin' to be there and will sleep just fine in Maya's room away from the party. Ben'll do the same. It's Marshall's first party in the new place. We can't not go."
"You go then. I'll stay home with Ben. I'm not much the party type anyway."
"I want you to be there," Louis urged. "It wouldn't be the same without you."
"Louis," she whined, exasperated.
"Please, love," he begged. "Ben is already sleepin'. He'll sleep all the way to Marshall's and might wake up when we get there 'cause of the noise, but'll be off as soon as he's with Matty. You're makin' a mountain out of a molehill."
Lyla set her jaw and kept quiet, annoyed by his last comment and repeated insistence on taking Ben with them. It had started as a minor disagreement and had escalated into a full-on argument, each party insisting they were right and being uncharacteristically stubborn. Maybe it was the absence of their eldest son that made them less understanding of one another. "Fine," she resigned. "But as soon as he starts getting fussy, I'm leaving him with you."
"Deal," Louis said, holding out his hand good-naturedly.
Lyla couldn't help but smirk and shook his hand.
With Ben strapped to Lyla's chest and the diaper bag slung over Louis' shoulder, the three of them started their train journey into Brooklyn. It wasn't five minutes into their subway ride that Ben woke up and began squirming and whining. Lyla shot Louis a dagger-filled look before unstrapping her son from her chest and passing him over to his father who said nothing. She placed the diaper bag on her lap and all but ignored Louis and Ben for the remainder of the journey.
Shortly after nine, they arrived at Marshall and Maya's and knocked on the door. Marshall answered the door and Lyla pushed moodily past him with the diaper bag hanging off her shoulder, leaving Louis to settle Ben.
"What's eatin' her?" Marshall asked, stepping aside so Louis could enter.
"She didn't want to bring Ben. I said he'd be fine, then he spent the whole ride over cryin' and now she's annoyed with us both."
Ben's face was red and his fussiness had turned into a full screaming fit. Louis cringed away from the tiny human strapped to his chest.
"Right," Marshall said, his voice deeper and more commanding than usual. The tone caused Ben to pause for a moment before continuing. "Give 'im to me. I'll put him upstairs."
Louis didn't hesitate to unstrap his son from his chest and push him into his brother's arms.
"Beer's in the fridge," suggested Marshall as he ushered his screaming nephew into Maya's room.
Upon hearing her son's shrill cry as she and Maya set up Mateo's old bassinet, Lyla closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try and soothe herself. It wasn't so much the crying that annoyed her but the fact that she knew that this was how it would play out. "Where's Louis?" she sighed.
"The same place you're goin'," replied Marshall, handing Ben to Maya. "Go get yourself a drink."
Lyla didn't protest and disappeared down the attic ladder to join with the growing crowd. In the kitchen, she found Emily sitting at the table and joined her, venting about Ben and Louis to her friend just like she had done to Maya moments before. Maya met her in the kitchen and shoved a drink with a little too much gin and not enough tonic into her hand before going to mingle.
"What did you do to our son?" Lyla asked once Marshall was down in the kitchen getting a beer from the fridge.
"Matt's psychedelic night light. Shit's a genius invention."
"Why don't you ever call him Mateo?" Emily asked.
"Doesn't look like a 'Mateo'," Marshall shrugged, opening his beer and taking a sip. "What kind of Mateo is blonde?"
"His hair will darken," said Lyla.
"Not enough to be a Mateo," he replied before going to meet some of his friends from work who had just arrived.
Lyla spent the next two hours drinking what Maya handed her, checking on Ben, and getting progressively more drunk. It was close to midnight as she sat next to Emily on the sofa, chatting with some of Maya's work friends while Maya was off flirting mercilessly with another work friend.
As one of the girls spoke about something too mundane for an inebriated Lyla to comprehend, she felt someone playing with her hair. She tilted her head back and received a kiss from an equally inebriated Louis. Instantly, the petty animosity was washed away, and Lyla abandoned Emily wordlessly to be with her husband.
Louis and Lyla found themselves in a corner of the living room holding each other and shouting out the countdown along with everyone else. At "one," they shouted, "happy new year" and kissed each other. While most of the others got back to drink or dancing or talking, Louis and Lyla remained attached to one another like a couple of teenagers at their first party.
Though under the influence, every sensation seemed heightened. Louis' strong touch and soft tongue sent Lyla into a frenzy; she ran her hands down his body to rest in the back pockets of his jeans, wanting to rip them off but settling for some light fondling. Locked in passionate kisses together, Louis toyed with the zipper of her dress, wanting to reveal and kiss the breasts underneath. They were as close as they could be together, but it wasn't enough.
"Get a room!" someone shouted followed by laughter from those in the surrounding area.
Lyla removed her hands from her husband's pocket and rested them on his back while Louis wrapped his arms around her. Lyla rested her head against his chest. They held each other close, but the anticipation grew; they needed each other. "Upstairs," Louis whispered, voicing Lyla's own thoughts.
It was more than alcohol that made their legs feel rubbery as they climbed into Maya's room.
"I'm just going to check on Ben," Lyla whispered before looking in on the two sleeping babies.
Louis followed impatiently behind her, kissing her neck and running his hands under her dress up her thigh until they rested between her legs, his fingers searching and playing, causing Lyla to squirm. She turned around and kissed him while throwing his jacket to the floor and pushed him away from the sleeping duo for some privacy.
His hands were at her dress's zipper again, this time pulling it completely to reveal her pale breasts, which he cupped in his hands as Lyla worked on his belt and jeans. She dropped to her knees, pushing down his jeans and boxer-briefs enough so that her access to him was unimpeded. Gently, she took him in her hand, stroking rhythmically before taking him fully in her mouth. He closed his eyes and breathed, feeling her textured tongue rolling over his skin.
Acting on impulse rather than thought, Louis pushed Lyla back and joined her on the floor, kissing her breasts and running his tongue around her nipples. She urged him from his knees to a sitting position against the nearby wall before mounting him and feeling his hardness glide effortlessly into her. Both Lyla and Louis moaned breathlessly, their desires being satisfied.
Louis buried his face in Lyla's neck, her curls sticking to the sweat on his cheek; he pinched and pulled her nipples with his teeth; she held onto his hair with the vice grip that she always had and expertly rode him, feeling the spark of orgasm building with every grinding motion.
"Oi," came a sudden loud whisper, "there are children here."
The couple froze, breathing heavily and fighting the urge to become exhibitionists. Louis looked over Lyla's shoulder to see his brother and a giggling Maya. He was about to chew him out when he saw the swelling state of Maya's face.
"We've got a bit of a situation," his brother explained. "Maya'll be up here for the rest of the night. Go use my room if y'need."
Louis and Lyla didn't need to be told twice; as soon as Marshall and Maya's attention was focused elsewhere, the two were making themselves decent enough to make their way urgently to Marshall's room.
They didn't notice the murmurs and jokes at their expense as they descended the steps from Maya's room and disappeared into Marshall's, slamming and locking the door behind them. Immediately, their hands were again busy, undressing the other, more fully now that they had more privacy. Louis wasted no time leading Lyla to the bed, pushing her down, and thrusting into her roughly.
"Louis," she cried, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling his hair harder as she got closer to climax.
"Fuck," he breathed into her ear, feeling her contract around him with every thrust until she was reduced to tremors and muted whimpers. She dug her nails into his back, feeling a jolt of electricity every time contact was made between Louis' body and Lyla's. "Lyla," he groaned, his orgasm building and his pace increasing until he began to come, spilling himself into Lyla who moaned in response.
They remained still for a moment, breathing deeply, Louis on top of Lyla. He leaned close to Lyla's face and connected his lips with hers. They shared a slow kiss before Louis rolled off of his wife; they lay silently next to each other, fingers entwined, listening to each other's breaths and falling asleep to the comforting white noise.
Lyla woke a little while later, urgently needing the bathroom. It took her a moment to remember she was in Marshall's room, Louis sleeping soundly next to her. Her head a little clearer despite everything spinning, she covered Louis with a sheet so he'd be a bit more decent. She then straightened her dress, which acted as a belt around her middle rather than a dress in its scrunched up and dishevelled state. She turned the dress around, pulled down the skirt, and zipped up the back so that she looked somewhat presentable. Her panties were in a bunch on the floor, but weren't in a state to put back on, so she tucked them into Louis' jeans pocket to make certain they weren't left behind when they left. Then, quite urgently, she unlocked the bedroom door.
Lights were still on and the TV was playing, but most people had left. A few stragglers slept in the living area, but no one was awake to see Lyla speed walk into the bathroom to complete her business.
Once finished, she tiptoed around the kitchen and living room, turning off the lights and TV, and double checking that the door was locked. Before heading back to sleep, she decided to check on Ben.
Marshall and Maya were sleeping snuggled next to each other in Maya's bed, the former snoring loudly and the latter seeming perfectly content with the noise. Her swollen purple face, though, caught Lyla by surprise; she looked like she would be in immense pain when she woke up. An abandoned bag of water, which Lyla suspected was once ice, lay abandoned on the floor. She made a mental note to pry later and find out what happened.
Lyla snuck to Mateo's old bassinet and peered in to see Ben sleeping soundly, no sign of sleep deprivation or crankiness. She thought it best to leave him be and get a couple more hours of shuteye before they'd have to head back home.
Back in Marshall's room, Lyla joined Louis under the sheet she had draped over him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady breathing and falling asleep instantly.
Marshall & Maya
Marshall turned on Mateo's nightlight – an underwater display of fish swimming by with soft music lulling the viewer to sleep – and said goodnight. Maya followed suit, her sparkling silver dress glimmering when it caught the blue light.
"Night-night, mijo," she whispered, kissing her hand and then placing it on Mateo's forehead. Her heels clacked on the hardwood floor as she walked toward the steps leading into the living room.
"Y'do know that you're not goin' out, right?" Marshall said as Maya descended from her room to the floor below.
"You should always dress to impress," Maya responded as Marshall began his own descent. He slid a noise-cancelling mat over the doorway to keep Mateo sleeping soundly as guests began to arrive. "You could dress it up a little bit," she suggested.
"My good looks are impressive enough," he joked. He went to the kitchen and opened his second beer of the night. "I'll go talk t' the neighbours. You do you."
Maya raised her gin and tonic in the air and took a sip.
Marshall and Maya were treating their New Year's party as a sort of housewarming now that they had completely furnished the space with the help of Maya's paychecks. Guests brought a lot of alcohol and food on top of what Marshall had bought. They had invited their neighbours, friends from work, and close family and friends, and the place, though spacious, became crowded quite quickly. It was exactly the kind of atmosphere Marshall and Maya each thrived in.
Shortly after nine, Marshall answered their door to reveal two irritated parents and a fussy baby. Lyla pushed moodily past Marshall with the diaper bag hanging off her shoulder, leaving Louis to settle Ben.
"What's eatin' her?" Marshall asked, stepping aside so Louis could enter.
"She didn't want to bring Ben. I said he'd be fine, then he spent the whole ride over cryin' and now she's annoyed with us both."
Ben's face was red and his fussiness had turned into a full screaming fit. Louis cringed away from the tiny human strapped to his chest.
"Right," Marshall said, his voice deeper and more commanding than usual. The tone caused Ben to pause for a moment before continuing. "Give 'im to me. I'll put him upstairs."
Louis didn't hesitate to unstrap his son from his chest and push him into his brother's arms.
"Beer's in the fridge," suggested Marshall as he ushered his screaming nephew into Maya's room.
Upon hearing her son's shrill cry as she and Maya set up Mateo's old bassinet, Lyla closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try and soothe herself. It wasn't so much the crying that annoyed her but the fact that she knew that this was how it would play out. "Where's Louis?" she sighed.
"The same place you're goin'," replied Marshall, handing Ben to Maya. "Go get yourself a drink."
Lyla didn't protest and disappeared down the attic ladder to join with the growing crowd.
"She's pissed at Louis," Maya laughed. "She came up here ranting about how she knew it was a bad idea and how he wouldn't listen and whatever. So weird."
"Like stepping into the Twilight Zone," Marshall agreed, finishing the bassinet set up. "Wasn't sure they knew how to argue. Alright, hand him to me. I'll get him down."
Maya did as requested and then disappeared from her room as well.
Marshall placed the squirming, red-faced Ben into the bassinet. "What's up, nephew? If you wake Matty up, you're goin' to have to deal with me." Marshall rolled the bassinet across the floor next to Mateo's crib. He was sleeping soundly. The kid would sleep through anything. Marshall flipped Mateo's underwater night light around to face Ben, which immediately caught the baby's eye. His cries began to quiet with the occasional interruption of a yawn. Soon, he settled, mesmerised by the swimming fish and soothing music, and his eyelids began to droop lazily. When Marshall was sure he was sleeping, he crept out of the room muttering, "best twenty bucks I've ever fucking spent." On the ladder, he pulled the sound proofing over the entry to block noise from disturbing the infants.
"What did you do to our son?" Lyla asked as Marshall got a beer from the fridge. She was sitting at the kitchen table talking with Emily.
"Matt's psychedelic night light. Shit's a genius invention."
"Why don't you ever call him Mateo?" Emily asked.
"Doesn't look like a 'Mateo'," Marshall shrugged, opening his beer and taking a sip. "What kind of Mateo is blonde?"
"His hair will darken," said Lyla.
"Not enough to be a Mateo," he replied before going to meet some of his friends from work who had just arrived.
In a short matter of time, Marshall had managed to get in the good graces of one of Maya's very attractive work friends. When the clock struck twelve and everyone was partnered up, he had kissed her, planning to take her into his bedroom and do more than kiss. But he and Maya had agreed that whoever sealed the deal first could use Marshall's room as Maya's was otherwise predisposed. And as Marshall began walking his girl towards his room, Maya was already closing the door behind her. He sighed and instead lead the girl to the one walk-in storage closet that was always a little bit too hot. It wasn't as though either of them were looking for much romance.
As soon as the door was closed, Marshall was undoing his jeans while the girl took off her own. As soon as she peeled her jeans off, she was on her knees taking Marshall eagerly in her mouth. He rested his hands on her head, guiding her to take him deeper, which she did with all of the talent that her profession offered. At full attention, Marshall pulled the girl up and sat her on a pile of plastic Rubbermaid boxes; she lifted her legs and wrapped them around Marshall as he thrust inside her in rapid movements and sucked the skin at the crook of her neck. Marshall could feel beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face and the middle of his back from the natural heat of the storage room and the frantic movements of the duo.
But they weren't in the closet for long. Reasonably satisfied (as much as can be expected from a quickie with a stranger in a storage closet), the two emerged as sweaty messes and went their separate ways.
Marshall grabbed another beer from the fridge and took a quick survey of the guests. Most people were still partying. Some were making out, others were talking and laughing, or dancing or playing some game. It was still quite crowded and Marshall liked that. He hadn't had a party of his own in a very long time and was thankful for his new place.
He went to join a group playing cards on the floor when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his bedroom door quickly open before slamming shut just as abruptly. With the music and conversation, it didn't look like anyone noticed aside from him. Marshall walked to his door and knocked, loud enough for Maya and her man to hear, if not loud enough for anyone else. "Maya," he said loudly, "y'alright?"
"We're fine," the man snapped, Maya's voice also answering, though a great deal more muffled and incomprehensible, sending red flags flying.
Marshall swung the door open and slammed it behind him causing the man sweating over Maya to jump back revealing a visible bleeding scratch on the side of his face where Maya's fingernails had raked him. Maya was in a state herself, naked, with one hand covering her eye while the other hovered uselessly under a bleeding nose.
Marshall calmly put himself between the man and the bed, and, without taking his eyes off the dickweed, opened his bedside drawer for a box of tissues, which he gently tossed to Maya without a word. He then walked purposefully towards the man who instantly stood up straight, trying to appear bigger than he was. "And just what's goin' on here?" Marshall said, not waiting for or wanting an answer.
"Fuck off," the man replied, pushing Marshall with the strength of a drunk man.
"That the best ya got?" Marshall taunted. But, again, he didn't wait for a response. As the man lunged forward with his fist, Marshall beat him to the punch, his knuckles colliding with cheekbone. Winded, the man was caught off-guard as Marshall pushed him roughly through the window onto the fire escape; it was all he could do to restrain himself from tossing him over the rail, enraged as he was. Marshall slammed the window shut and locked it, watching as the man shouted unheard obscenities and made crude gestures; he tried to open the window and tried to break it, but failed before climbing up the steps leading to Maya's room.
"You lock your window?" Marshall asked, watching the weasel try his luck at another entrance.
"Yeah," Maya replied quietly.
Having failed, the man stumbled back down the stairs, shouting again. Marshall held his gaze until the man was fed up enough to climb down the fire escape.
Without a word, Marshall exited his room and went to the freezer for ice. "Nick!" he hollered over the music, his friend playing some drinking game at the kitchen table.
"Yeah."
Marshall leaned close so only Nick could hear, "if y'see a fuckin' gom with a scratch on his face, fuckin' kill 'im, yeah?" He patted Nick's shoulder before returning to his bedroom, not bothering to listen for Nick's reply.
Maya was still nursing her bleeding nose when he returned, but the blood was now mixed with mucus and tears. Marshall sat on the bed in front of Maya. "Let me see," he said, pulling her hands down and holding tissue to catch any blood.
"Is it broken?" she asked with a shaky breath.
"Think so," he replied. "But I think it'll heal fine. Not crooked or anything." He had brought a damp tea towel with him and used it to clean up the dried blood around her face. "Doesn't look like it's bleeding much anymore. Hold this." She took the tea towel from him and held it to catch anything escaping from her nose. "Can you open your eye?" he asked, examining the swollen area around her seeping eye. He saw a gentle flutter of her eyelashes, but it was too swollen to open completely. "I think everthing'll heal just fine, but here." He handed her a dry tea towel full of ice and guided her hand to her eye before going to his dresser and pulling out a black t-shirt. "Here." He pulled the shirt over her head as she adjusted her hold on the tea towels. "What the fuck, My?" he said once she was settled again.
"I know," she cried, a fresh wave of salty tears falling down her face. "We were all ready—" she hiccupped, "—to fuck and then… once he has me out my clothes, he starts saying 'oh, girls like you fuck bareback' and tries to get me to fuck him without a condom, saying 'you're on the pill, right?' Like that's what I'm worried about." She took a deep breath, but then began vomiting up more complaints. "I can't get anyone but douchebags now. I haven't been with anyone new since before Mateo was born!" she cried.
"Since before—But you've gone out loads."
"I know!" Maya wailed. "But there's some fucking conspiracy. Suddenly safe sex doesn't exist. When I was still breastfeeding, I'd leak, and they'd be all 'oh, you can't get pregnant when you're breastfeeding' or whatever other excuse. So, I just go and see people I always see because I have some invisible sign that I can't take off me that says, 'will have unprotected sex'. Like…" she trailed off, frustrated.
"They're fucked up. Go to classier places," Marshall joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"I can't! Except for this fucking porn, I'm broke. And I can't get a job because I have no prospects and I do porn," she sobbed.
"Right," Marshall began, frustrated at the entirety of the situation. "Fucking quit the porn. You got some cash and now it's done, yeah? Then, I don't know – get your GED, go to school, become a—uh, one of those people who plans things or designs things. Somethin' y'like doin'. You're not even thirty yet. By the time you do get t' thirty, you could have your diploma and startin' work for some high-end company and doin' guys who aren't riddled with disease."
"I'm almost twenty-nine," she said quietly.
"Jesus fucking Christ, who cares?" Marshall rolled his eyes, "just stop doin' things that are makin' you fuckin' miserable and gettin' y'into situations like this."
Maya didn't say anything while she considered what she'd like to do with her life. Her nose was neither bleeding nor running. She dabbed at it one last time before drying her face with a clean tissue. After a moment, she asked cheekily, "so why do you have so much tissue in your bedside drawer?"
"Why d'you think?" Marshall smirked, tossing Maya's used tissues into his bin.
"Good quality," she commended.
Marshall nodded, "don't need more of a mess than there already is." He put the tissues back in his drawer and stood up straight. "Right, what d'you want to do?"
"Sleep away my troubles."
"Wanna stay here or go up to your room?"
"My room," she said. "But," she motioned to her face, not wanting their guests to see what had happened.
Marshall pulled a hoodie off of the hook on the back of his door. "Put this on, pull the hood up."
She did as she was told and followed Marshall as he checked that no one was hanging around, acting as bodyguard as she made her way up the steps to the attic. He followed behind her. Maya pushed the sound proof mat out of the way, stepped up, stopped abruptly and stepped down, facing Marshall with as much shock as her swollen face could muster. "Oh my God," she whispered, grinning. She moved to the side so that Marshall could step up and peer into the room to see Louis seated, propped against the wall with Lyla grinding enthusiastically on top of him, surprising both of the unexpected voyeurs with her intensity. Evidently, whatever state they had been in was too desperate for either of them to remove much clothing, so they were pretty well modest despite being in the throes of passion, Louis' head leaning against Lyla's chest while her fingers were lost in his hair, holding on tightly.
"Oi," Marshall loudly whispered, "there are children here." Maya giggled as the couple froze. Marshall and Maya climbed into the room, replacing the mat.
Lyla leaned her head on Louis' shoulder, breathing heavily, as Louis glared, unfocused, at his brother. He was about to tell him off when Maya pulled down her hood to reveal her battered face.
"We've got a bit of a situation," Marshall explained. "Maya'll be up here for the rest of the night. Go use my room if y'need." He ushered Maya to her bed without further explanation, not waiting to see what the couple would decide. But the slight increase in the noise level as they removed then replaced the mat told him that they left.
"So," Marshall whispered after a moment of silence while Maya got settled, "Lyla."
"Right?!" Maya responded in a loud astonished whisper. "I would never think Lyla would have it in her. But she was riding him."
"I always see her wit' her hands in his hair. Just thought it was a weird husband-wife thing. Didn't think it was their thing."
Maya laughed and then winced from the pain it caused.
Marshall took the melting ice. "I'm going t' get more ice."
Maya shook her head, "it's too cold."
"It's s'posed to be. If you don't ice, you're goin' to swell up worse than y'already are." Marshall disappeared from the attic and reappeared moments later with a new collection of ice this time wrapped in a sandwich bag to keep some of the liquid in.
However, Maya had slipped into bed without another thought and had fallen asleep without issue, so Marshall was left to ice her face for her. Cradling her head in his arm and holding the ice in place, Marshall stretched out on the bed and promptly fell asleep himself.