What the fuck, Cahir thinks when he opens his eyes. It is the only somewhat coherrent thought he can string together before his mind goes totally blank at the sight of the creature leaning over him. He stares into the pair of huge, black eyes that seem to scrutinise him very thoroughly. Or is the strange, greenish being with the far too big forehead, the small, narrow nose and lipless mouth reading his mind? A shudder runs down his spine. This is truly creepy. But if the creature is indeed reading his mind, at least it does not hurt. Nor does he hurt anywhere else. He only feels weird somehow. He is not sleeping and dreaming up this strangest of creatures?
Without making a sound, the being straightens up and raises its overlong, thin arm. In its spindly hand that only appears to have four fingers, it is holding a strange, rod-like device. It glows blue and pink and makes a humming sound. The creature slowly moves it along his body, for a disconcerting moment hovering first over his head, then moving further down. Cahir follows the movement with his eyes. And freezes. Shit, is he naked? What the hell? Alarmed, he tries to sit up. However, it does not work. His arms and legs are shackled to what seems to be some kind of operation table. Hell and damnation, where the fuck is he? Who is that creature? What is happening? And, most importantly, where is Gallatin? They were riding through a snowstorm together on one horse after they had to mercy-kill the other one that had broken its leg when slipping on the treacherous, icy ground. It was freezing cold and there was nothing but snow as far as the eye could see. Then, suddenly, he noted a very high-pitched, whirring sound and flashing lights, Cahir recalls, and then nothing. Did he black out somehow? Was he abducted by this strange creature? Is Gallatin here, too? Frantically, he gazes around the room as much as he can from his supine position. Except for the creature and its device, everything is completely white, a shiny, immaculate, almost blinding white that looks unreal. A second operating table is standing not far from the one he is lying on, but it is empty.
Having arrived at his naked feet, the device stops humming. The creature throws him a quick glance from its black eyes, then it walks away and out of a door that slides open all by itself. Magic? Is the creature some kind of weird sorcerer or sorceress? It must be, as suddenly images are flitting across the white walls and soft, lulling music can be heard. If he was not spooked almost out of his mind, the images and sounds could be quite relaxing. A sun-flooded beach with palm trees waving their long leaves in a gentle summer's breeze, the ocean a deep blue, crowns of white sea foam dancing on the rolling waves. Woven into the music, Cahir can hear seabirds sing, the rush of the waves and people laughing. Now, humans appear in the images on the walls, or, at least he believes they are humans, although they look different from any human he has met. It is mostly because of their clothes though, which are very colourful and apparently made from a new kind of fabric, a much finer one than what his own garments are made of. However, what the people are occupying themselves with is even weirder than what they are wearing. A couple of teenagers are standing on boards with tiny wheels and doing all kinds of crazy acrobatics on them, while others are wearing shoes not unlike ice skates, but with little wheels instead of the blades. They are racing down a path that has a smooth, greyish-black surface, very different from the continent's cobblestone roads. Even crazier, however, are the humans who are riding along those paths on structures that, with a lot of imagination, resemble a horse, but are made from metal and roll on two big wheels. The riding devices seem to exist in all kinds of different sizes as Cahir can spot both adults and children of all ages using them. Or are the things actually living beings and grow like horses?
Before Cahir can make heads or tails of what he sees, the magic door opens again and in strides a tall, muscular figure that faintly resembles Gallatin. Cahir's eyes grow wide. The man is wearing the strangest of clothes he has ever seen in his life. He looks again. Damn, can it really be his elf friend? Or is it some kind of shapeshifter imitating him?
"Sorry, Cahir, it's me. I had to put this stuff on. I know I look ridiculous. But," Gallatin fixes the young commander with a meaningful gaze, "it's better than no clothes."
Cahir flushes bright red. Shit, with all the weirdness that was going on, he totally forgot that he is mother naked.
"Don't worry, friend," the elf continues, putting a bright pink bag on the free operating table and pushing something that resembles a button. Cahir's restraints magically open by themselves. "They also gave me something for you to wear. Only, there is a little problem."
Covering his private parts with his hands, Cahir sits up and looks at Gallatin questioningly. What little problem? Those clothes themselves are a problem, a rather big one if you asked him, and especially so the huge leather hat Gallatin is wearing that covers both his friend's pointed ears and his trademark hairstyle, making him hard to recognise. But the brightly coloured shirt with flower ornaments, green leaves and birds with huge yellow beaks, and the black leather vest with the extra long fringes that the elf is wearing on top of it, are not much better. The pants are tight and made of a sturdy blue fabric that does not look half bad on Gallatin actually. Yet the shiny, richly embroidered boots with the high bootlegs are something else entirely.
"Well, the creatures seem to believe that you, my blunt-eared friend, are a female," Gallatin elaborates with a chuckle, producing something pink and glittery from the bag and throwing it at Cahir.
"What?" Cahir chokes out, dumbfounded, not daring to look more closely at the pink abomination in his lap.
"It's a dress. For you. And I'm sorry. I tried to tell them that this is wrong, but they did not understand. I guess it's because of your long hair and us riding on that horse together."
"But it's obvious that I'm not a woman!" Cahir protests. "This— this is thoroughly ridiculous!" Gingerly he picks up the pink and sparkly thing and glances at it with utter disgust. It looks like it might be his size, but fuck, he is not wearing this, over his dead body. "Who are those creatures anyway, and where are we?" he then asks, frowning at his friend.
"No idea, really." Gallatin shakes his head pensively. "They speak no language that you or I understand. But they showed me pictures and drawings. I believe they're from a different planet and we're on their ship. Only that the ship does not sail the ocean, but flies through space."
Cahir stares at Gallatin, so perplexed it is almost funny. Creatures from a different planet. Is it possible? Of course, he knows that there are different spheres, and about the conjunction that brought humans and monsters to the continent, but green creatures that sail through space of their own volition? And randomly kidnap people?
"They seem quite friendly, and curious. Strangely fascinated with beaches and bright clothes. Did you know that they don't weave and sew their garments but simply press a couple of flashing buttons on a device, and then the clothes come out of some kind of metal box? It's almost like magic. Very advanced technology."
"Fuck their advanced technology if they can't even recognise a man when they see his cock," Cahir grumbles, annoyed by the elf's obvious admiration for the alien beings.
"Don't be too hard on them, friend. They're jolly little creatures. Really. They could easily have carved us open to examine how our organs work instead of having us dress up a little. And they have obviously never seen a cock before and do not associate it with gender. Perhaps they reproduce differently from humans and elves, and believe a cock's just for peeing?"
"Shit, do I really have to do that?" Cahir asks miserably.
"I'd swap clothes with you, but the dress would explode if I tried squeezing myself into it. And you don't want to walk around the ship naked, do you?"
"Damn it, Gallatin! Swear you'll never ever mention this to anybody."
"I solemnly swear I will neither mention how cute you look in pink, nor write a lengthy poem about it," Gallatin laughs. Then he reaches into the bag a second time. "There's more than just the dress. What about raspberry-coloured lace panties and a matching bra, Cahir? Really sweet, don't you think?" Gallatin holds the items up and then throws both pieces of underwear at his friend. "And just look at the shoes! All glittery, and the heels are truly phenomenal, as pointy as any dagger! A perfect match for this handbag here, isn't it cute?"
"Fuck you, elf," Cahir groans. "I'm not going to wear a bra! And how can anyone walk in those things? This is physically impossible!" He glares at the shoes and underwear as if they were worse pests than cockroaches and needed to be instantly annihilated with the power of his steely-blue gaze.
Before Gallatin can comment, the magic door slides open once again and several of the green creatures glide into the room on their spindly legs, chattering animatedly in something that does not resemble any language Cahir has ever heard. Quickly, he drapes the pink dress across his groin. The alien creatures approach Gallatin and seem to greet him by raising their thin hands into the air and, one after the other, slapping the flat of their palms against the elf's simultaneously raised palm. Then they fix their huge black eyes on him. Although the mask-like expression on their faces does not change at all, somehow Cahir feels the temperature in the room drop several degrees. The alien creatures' chattering has stopped. Damn, they seem disappointed. Because he is not wearing this ridiculous, pink outfit? Who knows what those beings will do to them with their advanced technology if they become upset? He could use those blasted heels to stab several of them in the eye, but if they are indeed on a space ship, this would not help them at all, as neither he nor Gallatin have any idea how to fly a thing like this. On the other hand, if they do what the creatures want, perhaps there is a chance that they will drop them off on their planet again? Cahir would even take those lonely, frozen highlands on their own continent over any other place in space.
Swallowing his pride and trying hard not to look as disgusted with their choice of clothes as he feels, Cahir slips on the pink panties. The bra thing he does not even know how to put on, but with Gallatin's help, he manages. It does not really fulfil any purpose as, naturally, he does not have tits, but the thing is heavily padded and stiff enough. So, together with the tight-fitting dress, it will probably look as if he had quite a big bust. Fuck, how he hates this! Yet, he has no choice, does he?
The creatures watch Cahir get dressed without any visible sign of emotion, however, the room temperature rises significantly. The aliens obviously appreciate his efforts. Alright, if it keeps Gallatin and himself safe, he will survive a few hours in pink, right?
The dress is very tight and Cahir is afraid it will burst if he takes a deep breath, but it turns out it is made of a surprisingly stretchy material, and Gallatin helps him with the strange metal teeth things that need to be zipped up in the back and on one side. And now the shoes. If you can even call them that in good conscience. They fit perfectly, as everything else, Cahir has to admit. Perhaps this strange, rod-like device that the first creature used on him somehow measured him up so the magical machine could produce the custom-tailored garments? But how the fuck is he supposed to walk in those abominable contraptions without breaking a leg or two? Even standing upright is not easy and he has to steady himself against the operating table to not stagger and fall. To look on the bright side, suddenly Cahir is considerably taller than Gallatin.
"Ah, sorry, I forgot," the elf suddenly says and, once again, produces a pink item from the bag. "Mylady, your hat." With a flourish and a smirk, Gallatin swings the pink thing through the air and, slightly askew, puts it on the young commander's head. Then he steps back a little and eyes Cahir up. "Wow, you do look pretty in pink," he chuckles merrily.
Cahir rolls his eyes at his friend. He hates this so much that it is almost funny. Perhaps he should take the entire situation as some sort of cosmic joke? Or is it just the most ridiculous dream a human brain can possibly conceive and he will wake up and laugh his head off? Well, at least, Gallatin is having fun, and the green aliens appear to be quite happy with their captives. They have started to chirp and chitter and seem to kind of - glow with excitement?
"Last but not least, every beautiful lady needs some jewellery, right?" Gallatin says with a wink. From the bottom of the bag, he fishes several small items that are - no surprise here - brightly pink, glittery and thoroughly horrible. Gallatin fastens a big heart-shaped clip-on earring to each of Cahir's earlobes while Cahir slips on several pink bracelets that are made of a strange material that is neither metal, nor pearl or ivory or anything else that is natural to the continent. The jewellery must have come from the same machine as the clothes, Cahir suspects, not from a mountain or the depth of the ocean. The very last item to complete the ridiculous outfit is a pink, velvety choker with a huge and sparkling heart pendant that Gallatin fastens around Cahir's neck.
"Pink perfect," the elf grins and blows Cahir a kiss.
"Can you just kill me now," the young commander groans, very glad that there is no mirror and he cannot see himself in all his ridiculousness.
There is no time for Cahir to wallow in self-pity, though. Clearly satisfied with his looks, the green creatures glide toward him with raised hands to do this strange greeting ceremony. Cahir forces a smile onto his face while holding his palm out for the happy aliens to slap. Then one of the creatures points at the wall behind them, chittering with excitement. Cahir and Gallatin turn around. A huge image of a blond man with a hat like Gallatin's and a similar shirt and vest, and an equally blonde woman all in pink with the blue ocean and high palm trees in the background has appeared on the wall. The man leans toward the woman, they both close their eyes and then, they kiss, long and deep.
The creatures clap and cheer. Then they point at Gallatin and Cahir expectantly.
"Mmh, I think they want us to kiss," Gallatin says with a slight frown.
"What?" Cahir asks, flabbergasted, flushing yet again.
"They want us to kiss. You have heard of this activity, Cahir, haven't you? It's something both humans and elves enjoy once in a while."
"I know what a kiss is. But shit, you can't seriously mean— not— not in those clothes— and in front of all these creatures— it's not that I'd hate to do it— but— but—" Cahir stammers, suddenly lost for words.
"It could be worse. They could want us to have hot sex on the beach while they are watching," Gallatin says matter-of-factly. It is not a reassuring notion at all, on the contrary. Who knows, they might still request something like this, right? Cahir shudders at the thought. Not because he would not want to have sex with Gallatin, but because, if it ever happened, he would definitely not want it to be like this, no, definitely not.
The creatures' huge black eyes are fixed on them expectantly. The music has changed to something that sounds like the most kitschy love song in the universe. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Gallatin gently puts his arm around Cahir's neck and, standing on tiptoe, pulls him closer. Then he presses his lips onto his friend's. Kissing is not quite as easy as it looked in the moving images because the big hats are in the way and, with the extreme high heels, Cahir is not really steady on his feet, but they manage. The young commander draws in a shaky breath and closes his eyes. This feels surprisingly good, despite the more than weird circumstances. And, with his eyes closed, he can pretend that they are alone somewhere on the coast and not dressed like total fools while floating through the universe on some kind of technically advanced ship from a different planet. Willingly, he parts his lips when Gallatin deepens the kiss. Their tongues meet and suddenly, Cahir feels a strange fluttering in his stomach, like a hundred butterflies dancing and doing somersaults. He presses himself closer against his friend's muscular body, wishing the moment would never end.
Unfortunately, it does, though. The green creatures erupt in wild applause and Cahir can hear repeated clicking noises. Bright light flashes across his retina although his eyes are still closed. Reluctantly, the two friends - or are they more now than just friends? - break the kiss and open their eyes. The creatures are glowing brightly green from excitement. One of them is holding a small, black box into the air, the source of both the clicking sounds and the flashes of light. Another alien has a somewhat different device trained on them and the walls are now flooded with still as well as moving images of Cahir and Gallatin kissing. They look so ridiculous in their outfits that Cahir hardly recognises himself beneath the pink, glittery hat. Yet, the kiss is cute and hot and feels so right, he would not mind doing it again. Preferably somewhere more private and less pink, but it does not really matter, as long as it is Gallatin he is kissing. This time it is he who leans toward his friend and initiates the kiss, suddenly not bothered by the clapping and jeering and clicks and flashes. Perhaps he would not even mind doing this hot sex on the beach thing right here and now. However, the aliens seem not to be interested in this kind of activity. They tug on the two friends' clothes to signal that they have seen enough. Then, suddenly, Cahir can feel a sharp prick in his back. Only a split second later, the room begins to sway and turn and everything goes black.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
"What the fuck?" Cahir groans when he wakes up. He feels slightly nauseous, like after having used a magical portal, or drunk too much. But otherwise, nothing hurts and he feels cosily warm. Has he just had the weirdest of weird dreams? Of having been kidnapped by aliens that made him and Gallatin kiss?
"Ah, you're awake, finally." Gallatin grins at his friend. The elf is lying inside of some kind of fluffy sack or bag, Cahir observes, and so is he, only that Gallatin's bag is ocean blue while his is bright pink. Some kind of thin, shiny white dome is above and around them, like a roundish tent. Shit, then maybe the whole alien thing was not a dream after all? Quickly, Cahir checks if he is still wearing the pink dress. Sighing with relief, he notes that he is not, and neither is he naked, but in his somewhat tattered but comfortingly dark blue shirt and grey underpants. Also gone are the earrings, bracelets, the pink choker and the shoes and hat.
"What happened?" he asks his elf friend, propping himself up on his elbows to look around. The dome-like tent is not big, but roomy enough for two people if they do not mind the proximity. Which, if the space-ship-alien-kidnapping-thing was not just imaginary but real, they obviously do not.
"The green creatures must have dropped us off where they found us," Gallatin explains. "Luckily they did so with lots of provisions and some nice equipment to keep us from starving or freezing to death. How do you like your sleeping bag?"
"Hhm, it's warm, but it could be a bit less pink." Cahir looks at the obnoxious colour dubiously.
"I knew you'd say that," Gallatin chuckles. "But I think you won't mind the colour that much as soon as you've found out about the best feature of those bags." The elf grins mischievously, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement and something else that Cahir cannot put a finger on.
"What's that then?" he asks, intrigued. Then he sees it. There is some kind of pictogram on his sleeping bag giving instructions on how to use it. One of the options looks very interesting indeed. Cahir flushes bright red.
"Should we do it?" Gallatin asks, moving closer to his human friend. Cahir nods. It is not exactly on the beach, but they are no longer floating through space and are all alone in a vast, snow-covered wilderness with not a chance of anybody disturbing them - unless the aliens come back, which seems very unlikely. He opens the metal teeth zip thing and Gallatin does the same with the one on his bag. Then, like shown in the instructions, they connect their bags. What an ingenious invention. Cahir smiles at Gallatin, who puts his arm around the young commander and pulls him closer. Their lips meet, and instantaneously, the butterflies are back.
It is the beginning of a very pleasurable night.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
The next morning, after having enjoyed a lengthy breakfast snuggled up in their joint sleeping bag, the two friends - or lovers? - pack up their things. During the night, any traces the space ship left in the snow have been erased by a fresh layer of white flakes that glitter in the late morning sun.
Will anybody ever believe them when they tell them about their alien experience? Most probably not. They can barely believe it themselves. Yet, it does not really matter. What matters is that it has changed everything.