Halloween, 2020 continued
Four drunk women were unceremoniously carried from the fire pit, loaded into cars, and driven either to their homes or a hotel to be watched over until they sobered up.
Three old friends stayed up late discussing their successes and failures over the last ten months.
Two reunited young lovers crawled naked into bed, fully intending to pick up from where they left off earlier in the day. Instead, due to their mental and physical exhaustion (and the abrupt relief from the mental part at least), they immediately fell asleep in the other's embrace.
One small creature crept out of its hiding place and scurried over to the warm grounds where the fire had been. It smelled food dropped by the really tall beings that stomped on the ground. As it sniffed around, hunting for graham cracker and potato chip crumbs, a fox slinking in the shadows focused his eyes on his next meal. With a single bite, it swallowed the creature.
The creature was understandably upset at being swallowed whole, and so set about freeing itself from the stomach it found itself in. With a few bites from extremely sharp teeth and rips from even sharper claws, the creature freed itself from the fox's belly.
The stench of blood from the mortally wounded fox coaxed the creature's brethren out of their hiding places. Pleased with the unexpected feast, they proceeded to gorge themselves upon the fox's flesh and bones until the only reminder the fox had been there was a small blood stain in the grass. A few of the creatures nosed around their sibling, dying from being immersed in stomach acids, not entirely sure what to do with it. In the end, though, hunger won out, and they ate it, too.
A few visibly bloated creatures looked towards one of the large burrows where the tall two-legged creatures hid from night predators. Just one of these tall creatures would feed them for many days. They were too few in numbers; a single tall creature could kill the whole pack. They would have to wait for a few more breeding cycles, increase their numbers. And then they would feast.
Christmas Eve, 2020
What a difference one year makes.
This year, instead of four young men staying up all night on Christmas Eve eve playing video games in the basement, there were six.
This year Mary and Charles were not the winners of some silly contest. So he was at work in his home office while she baked cookies, and they both were in slacks and casual tops.
This year Eleanor had friends of her own over; four women were watching the Legend of Fei and drooling over its lead actor.
This year there were to be no surprises of the wrong kind, no abrupt weddings, no broken phones, no amnesia. No heartbreak and definitely no crying, unless it was from happiness.
This year, after the guests left, the star was placed on the tree, and Mary had handed out her traditional Christmas Eve gifts, books, the Wu family and Ming Lim settled down to watch the Muppets' Christmas Carol. Ming Lim hugged his lover tight; they were still exorcising their own ghost of a Christmas past.
Having one's lover say 'ego te absolvo' was fine and dandy. It didn't, however, make the 'sinner' feel any better about his actions.
Ming Lim still felt that he should have done more to push back against the wedding. Especially given how quickly Lan Qinyang was able to act and her connections. One phone call to Sheng Lin, a joint refusal with Wang Lina to go along with their parents' plan, and perhaps he would have been back in the States before the start of the new term. While Michael felt that he should have been stronger, mentally, and handled the news about the wedding like a man instead of hiding within his mind. Many arguments later, they still each felt like the other had done nothing wrong while they had made the absolute wrong choices.
When the movie was over, Michael's family left him and Ming Lim alone. The two boys left the TV on some twenty-four hour news channel for background noise. They were lying on the couch, pressed together from chest to ankles, kissing slowly, enjoying the slow burn of passion.
On the television, the young blond anchor looked away from the teleprompter. "Is this a joke?" Whatever she heard in her earpiece made her sit up in shock causing the bell attached to her Santa hat to jingle. "Breaking news, tonight. We are hearing reports of… what kind of Dickensian joke are you playing here. Dead people don't get up and walk around!" This caught the attention of the two men on the couch. "Let's go to the video." She smiled the overly bright smile of news anchors everywhere.
The video looked like it was from a hospital. Whoever was recording it was bleeped over by the censors. "Holy BLEEEEP. This is BLEEEEP crazy! These people in BLEEEEEEEEP body bags are just shoving their way out! Holy BLEEEEP BLEEEEEP! Are you guys seeing what I'm seeing?" The footage showed inert body bags suddenly moving, and fists punching their way up. The rest of the body followed, ripping the black bag to shreds. The corpses awkwardly fell off the metal carts and even more awkwardly began to walk out of the room. The camera panned to another section of the room, where it looked like there were mini-refrigerator doors stacked up. There were sounds of something being punched or kicked. And those shiny metal doors were beginning to look dented. From the inside.
The feed switched back to the studio. The anchorwoman started laughing. "You got me! For half a second I thought that might be real. Are we promoting a horror film tonight?" She turned to look off camera. "How come no one told me? Practical jokes on Christmas Eve? Not funny, people." Someone must have spoken in her earpiece because her face drained of all color under her make-up. "What?"
The feed switched again. To a grave site in Louisiana where corpses in various stages of decomposition were breaking out of the tombs. To a city morgue where coroners were crouching under their desks while partially eviscerated corpses were walking around trailing their entrails. To a crematorium where a corpse on fire was beating at the door trying to break out of the furnace.
On the couch, Michael and Ming Lim looked back at each other. "Real or hoax?" Michael asked.
"If it's a hoax, it's a really good one. The special effects are far better than what I've seen before."
Michael's phone buzzed and he reached over to grab it off the coffee table. "Shore leave's over," he sighed after reading the message. Ming Lim's phone buzzed, too. Michael handed that phone over, "You probably got the same message."
Sheng Lin's text read: 'Have you seen the news? It's time to step up your training. Be back in Mass before the New Year.'
Michael slid his phone back onto the table. Corpses walking around meant an increase in Yin energy as well as Yang. Logically that meant the fae would also be coming back. Perhaps even demonic cultivators. 'Step up your training' meant… what? Learning how to fight with a proper sword? Bows and arrows? Guns? Learning aggressive magic? Getting hurt? He slid his hand into his pocket to feel the objects inside. "Ming Lim, can I ask you something?" The older one nodded. Michael pushed against a shoulder, "Sit up for a minute, huh? I can't think properly when you're lying on top of me."
Ming Lim grinned, evilly, but did as was asked. He leaned over to nip at an ear. "I like that you can't think properly when I'm lying on top of you."
Michael fisted the objects in his pocket. "Asshole." The sensation from that nip traveled from his ear, all the way down his spine and over to his cock, making it twitch and drool a bit. His boxers were already wet and uncomfortable in the front; that bite wasn't helping.
"You love me anyways."
"Yes. Yes, I do." He dumped the objects from his pocket into Ming Lim's palm. "Do you think maybe you want to get married someday?" At the other's shocked face, he quickly grabbed the rings back. "That proposal kinda sucked. Just forget it. Proposals are supposed to be all romantic and shit. And stuff."
Ming Lim, sighed. "Michael. Stop being stupid." With one hand, he held onto Michael's fist holding the engagement rings and the other dug into his own pocket. "You beat me to it." He opened his hand to show his own set of rings. "I was debating whether to ask you at midnight or tomorrow when we open gifts. But since you asked first…." He held out his right hand. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Michael blinked stupidly at his lover. "Say what?"
"Say 'yes'. Come on! Put it on me!"
Michael grabbed Ming Lim's other hand. "Engagement rings go on the left."
Ming Lim shook that hand away. "We have two sets of rings. Engagement on the right, wedding on the left."
Michael didn't look convinced, but he did as requested, sliding the slim gold band onto Ming Lim's right ring finger. He suddenly felt rather faint. "Damn that looks good. No. Amazing. God, I think my heart is going to pound out of my sure you really want to marry me?"
Ming Lim took Michael's left hand and slid the matching ring on the third finger. "Yes, I really want to marry you. At least since your eighteenth birthday and you brought up marriage. I've dreamed so many times of what your hand would look like with my ring on it."
"It's my ring. And I thought you wanted the engagement rings on the right."
"My ring. Your ring. Our rings." He bent to kiss the fingers and ring. "This way we can hold hands and the matching rings will touch." Then he leaned over to press his lover back down to the couch. "I love you so much." He pressed his hips, hard, into Michael's. "I want you. Now."
Michael shoved Ming Lim back up. "Not here!" he hissed. "This is my parents' house! And we're in the living room!"
"So?" Ming Lim stood up, smoothly scooping his fiancé up into his arms. "I'll take you upstairs to bed, then, if you don't want to do it on the couch." He juggled a bit, resettling Michael's legs over his elbow.
Michael struggled in vain to get out of Ming Lim's grip as he was carried up the stairs. "What the fuck are you doing?" he whispered harshly. "I'm not some girl that needs to be carried over the threshold on her wedding day!"
"If you don't be quiet, you're going to wake your parents up. And then I'm going to have to Silence you while we're doing it."
"We're not doing it in my parents' house!" That didn't come out as a whisper.
"What are you not doing in my house?" Mary Yang leaned on the door jam to her bedroom. "You two sound like a herd of elephants coming up the stairs like that. Speaking of… why are you carrying my son?"
Ming Lim grinned at his future mother-in-law and somehow managed to wiggle his ring bearing hand so she could see it. "Michael proposed. I'm taking him to celebrate our engagement."
Mary leaned over so she could better see the ring. "Charles?" she called out. "You owe me $50."
Charles stuck his head out of the doorway, saw his wife looking at the ring. "Congrats, kids. We're even; I don't owe you anything."
"No. Fifty. Pay up." Mary looked back at her husband. "Twenty-five for proposing before Christmas day. And twenty-five for Michael proposing."
"Michael proposed?" Charles looked at his wife in shock. "I was so sure I was going to win that one! I saw Xiao Ming taking rings out of a box this morning!" He looked at the older boy in mild despair. "Are you sure you didn't ask him first?"
Michael sighed and opened his hand for his parents to see the other set of rings. "LimGe was going to propose tomorrow."
"Well, congratulations to you both." Mary kissed her son. "Welcome to the family, Xiao Ming. You can call me Ma or Mom. Whatever you like. Just keep your celebration noise down tonight, please." To her son she added. "You do your own laundry, so whatever you do on that bed is none of my business, got it?"
Michael stared at his parents in shock. They weren't supposed to be so casual about their son, especially an unmarried one, having sex down the hall from them!
Charles started to shut the door, then paused and added. "I'm sure you know to clean things properly and to use a condom, so I won't remind you of that. Like your mother said: keep the noise down. I really don't want to hear 'oh god!' and 'yes, yes, yes!' coming out of either of your mouths. And do try to not put a dent in the wall with the headboard." Both boys flushed bright red at hearing the sex talk. "I especially don't want to know who's batting and who's catching." He closed the door firmly.
With that, Ming Lim practically sprinted down the hall to Michael's room. The younger one was abruptly dropped on the bed so the older one could roll his shoulders. "You're heavier than you look."
"No one asked you to princess carry me, either." Michael retorted.
"My arms hurt now, so you're going to have to either ride me or let me doggy-style you the first few rounds till they feel better."
"No rounds," Michael hissed. "No sex. My parents are right down the hall!"
"And they gave us permission." When Michael's response was to fold his arms over his chest and look even more stubborn, Ming Lim reached down to take Michael's left hand in his right. "You really don't want to make love with me tonight? Hǎole. I'm sleeping naked in case you change your mind."
Michael couldn't sleep. They were naked under the blankets, cuddled together, beringed hands firmly clasped. They were both hard and throbbing, both wanting to love the other. One was restraining himself out of respect for his partner and the other…. My parents basically told us to have fun. We just got engaged. In China that's practically the same thing as getting married. Sort of. They're expecting us to be having sex tonight. It's one thing to know your socially conservative parents know you're not a virgin and they're not overtly upset or mad about it. It's another to have your parents give you the green light to get down and dirty in their home when one: you're not married; two: they were raised to be homophobic and you're a man engaged to and in love with another man and you know they're still struggling with it; and three: you're only twenty feet and a few hollow walls away. Fuck it. "LimGe?"
"Yes?"
"I want you."
Ming Lim scrambled out of bed to find the lube he'd shoved in a pocket of his overnight bag. He hadn't really expected they'd make love on this trip; he had planned for it. Just in case. Michael's demeanor made him pause on the way back to bed. The younger boy was a mix of contrasts: apprehension and doubt mixed with an obvious arousal and naked desire in his eyes. "Michael… you know this isn't just about sex, right? Yes, I want to fuck you until you faint because you can't handle another orgasm. And I want to cum so hard into your ass you can taste me. It's not just sex, though. It's you." he held his ringed hand out. "This shows the world that I'm yours. I want to show you, prove to your body, that I'm yours. That I belong to you and you belong to me."
"I know that," Michael answered. "Come to me. Come in me." He opened his arms wide in invitation. "Cum in me." The words may have sounded the same: Ming Lim was well aware of the two different meanings. "Make me yours. Be mine."
There was an urgency, now, to their kisses that had been missing earlier on the couch. This urgency transmitted its way through their eager fingers as they sought to arouse the other even more. Hands caressed pectoral muscles, tugged and twisted the taut protrusions there. Or teased their way across ribs to slide along spines from nape to hips. And back to the front to cup tender sacs, rolling the balls inside gently but firmly. Reaching desperation, Michael rolled them over so he was on top, then turned around so he was facing Ming Lim's cock. "Use your fingers," he begged, waggled his ass, and dipped his head down to start sucking.
Soon three fingers were making their exquisite presence known in his ass. They stabbed in and out, scissored around to stretch the narrow passage or curled and pressed against his prostate. Combined with the cock gently fucking into his mouth, he was seeing stars. His own cock was steadily oozing pre-cum; he could almost hear the drips splattering onto his lover's body below.
Michael loved getting head. That warm, wet cavern sucking him down…. That clever tongue licking back and forth, rubbing over highly sensitive skin, sliding along his slit. Even when he thrust in at a wrong angle and ended up scraping himself against Lim's back teeth and it fucking hurt. Even that he loved.
Giving a blow job…. Not his favorite thing to do. He didn't enjoy the taste of semen. Or the way it gave him heartburn after swallowing it. Nor, because his gag reflex was pretty much nonexistent, did he like having his throat invaded. Thankfully, no gag reflex meant that more often than not, Lim considerately waited until he was fully embedded in Michael's mouth before ejaculating, thereby eliminating most of the unpleasant taste. However, kneeling in front of Lim, mouth full, and looking up to see his lover's bliss-filled face? That was… intoxicating. Made any other unpleasantness fade away into irrelevance.
The partial sixty-nine they were involved in was almost as good as kneeling. It set his imagination flying. If fingers fucking into his ass made giving a BJ feel this amazing, how much better would it be to have a cock fucking into him? He didn't want to bring a third person into their bed, obviously, but maybe a toy? A nice firm dildo?
A warm and wet tongue licked a path from his dripping lower head to the base and back. He shuddered in pleasure before gasping out "Ar aghch!" when Ming Lim's mouth engulfed his cock head. It was really hard to say 'oh fuck!' when his mouth was stretched full. The triple set of pleasures had him trembling; he couldn't concentrate. Below him, Ming Lim was stealing his attention: first to his ass, then his mouth, then back to his ass, then a particularly strong suck on his cock, then an even harder fuck into his throat. With a sigh, Michael gave up control of his pleasure and let his lover manipulate him as he would. Too soon, yet not soon enough, Michael was allowed to collapse onto his stomach on the bed, felt his hips being raised, legs spread, and finally, finally, felt himself being filled. Strong hands covered his; he turned his head to see the ring he had placed on his lover's hand shining faintly in the dim light. Mine beat into his brain with the same rhythm as the cock fucking into him. He let the combined feelings tilt his axis, and he came, shaking and shuddering. He spaced out after that, only vaguely aware of the increasing power of Ming Lim's thrusts, the sweat dripping onto his back, off his chest and running down his thighs, some pooling in the bend of his knees. When he finally did rouse a bit, Ming Lim's soft cock was still pulsing in his ass, and he could feel cum slipping out and sliding down onto his balls. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you, too." The two men squirmed around a bit until they were face to face again. Underneath them, the sheets felt disgusting: damp from sweat and semen and lube. They didn't care. More 'I love you's were interspersed with kisses that increased in intensity until they were both hard again. "I need you. So much." Ming Lim was begging.
"I need you, too," Michael wrapped his sweaty legs around his fiancé. "Get in me."
Ming Lim nudged his hips forward softly but firmly until they were once again one body. This was heaven; Ming Lim never wanted to leave. "Let's just stay like this forever, hǎobù hǎo?"
"Forever."