by Darien Cox
“I did.”
“Even about the candy cane thing?”
“Yeah. He knows everything.”
“Nolan,” Myles said. “Does Baz have any idea what’s happening to Christian?”
“Ah...I don’t want to upset you, but Baz was legitimately freaked out. And he didn’t seem to have a clue. But he did immediately take off to talk to the Whites. Which couldn’t have been an easy conversation for him. If the Whites already went by your house, we should know more soon.”
“Great.” Christian shivered, rubbing his arms. “This is fucked up.”
“How do you feel?” Nolan asked.
“Hungry. Angry. Scared.”
“I’ll call as soon as I know anything, Christian.”
“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do until then?” Christian asked.
“I don’t know,” Nolan said. “Eat. Try to relax. I promise to get back to you the minute I hear something. I canceled my shift at the pub tonight. I’m on it, okay?”
“God dammit.”
“For the record,” Nolan said. “Baz is a mess. He feels awful about this.”
“He fucking should!” Christian shouted, and Myles flinched.
“Calm down,” Nolan said.
“Don’t tell me how to feel, Nolan.”
“Nolan,” Myles jumped in. “We’ll be fine. Just call us as soon as you hear.”
“I will. Bye.”
Myles turned to Christian. “Easy, okay? I know it’s hard, but you have to stay calm.”
“I’m sorry.” Christian stood and paced the floor. “I feel like my whole body is one big nerve. Like there’s something...” He held his stomach. “Crawling around inside me, making me crazy, trying to get out. I need to work out or something. I need to wail on my punching bag.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to get yourself worked up.”
“Well if I don’t get rid of this energy by pounding on the bag, it might come out another way.”
Myles chewed his lip. “Okay. Go downstairs and workout. I’ll make an early dinner. But call to me if anything...weird happens.”
Christian worked out for an hour, until he was dripping with sweat. He felt better after, and blessedly, his cock didn’t pop any surprise wood. He showered, and when he finished dressing, he smelled food coming from the kitchen, and his stomach cramped tight. He was fucking ravenous.
He and Myles sat at the kitchen table and made small talk while Christian shoveled food down. He was on his third plate of ravioli and meatballs when Myles’ phone rang. He took it in the other room. Christian wanted to bitch about that, but couldn’t seem to tear himself away from his food, and finished his plate instead. The food calmed the cramping in his gut, and finally he began to feel full. This sensation was baffling, like nothing could satisfy him. Not food. Not sex. Not exercise. It was all a temporary fix to whatever this thing was churning inside him.
When Myles stepped back into the dining area, Christian wiped his mouth and looked up. “So?”
“We need to go over to Elliot and Nolan’s place.”
Christian stood. “Because?”
Myles’ brows tightened. “The Whites were able to diagnose you. Baz and Joff are headed over to Nolan and Elliot’s. We’re supposed to go over so Baz can try to...cure you.”
A relieved sigh left Christian. “That’s good.” He didn’t like the look on Myles’ face. “Myles? It is good. Right?”
Myles walked over and gently grasped Christian’s face. “You know how much I love you, right? That I’d do anything for you? Anything, Christian.”
“Of course I do. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
“This cure. Christian...” Myles jaw stiffened. “You’re not gonna like it. Shit, I don’t like it. But if we don’t do this...”
Christian scowled, pulse tapping hard at his neck. “What?”
“You could die.”
****
Myles parked car in front of Elliot and Nolan’s big gorgeous house on the side of the mountain. The sun had gone down, the night sky black with impending snow clouds, making their surroundings extra dark. The house had shimmering Christmas decorations and white lights strung through the trees, an exotic, festive oasis nestled in the blackness of the mountain. Light shone warmly from inside the glass windows that dominated the top floor. Myles looked at Christian. “You ready?”
Christian stared at the house. “How is this gonna work?”
Myles forced a calm tone into his voice for Christian’s sake. “We’ll find out more when we talk to Baz. But I told you what Nolan said.”
Christian looked at Myles, his brown eyes wide. “I don’t want to have sex with Baz. I can’t, Myles.”
“You don’t have to. According to Nolan, you don’t have to have sex with anyone. You just have to...have an orgasm with Baz nearby. That’s what I’m here for. I’m gonna be there with you. I’ll help make this happen. It’s you and me, okay?”
“Will he have to touch me?”
Myles nodded. “Only at the last minute, to draw it out of you.”
Christian flinched.
“Not out of your dick, relax. The energy, or whatever it is you’ve got inside. You need to be in an orgasmic state so the thing stuck inside you comes to the surface. It’s been trying to purge itself from your system, but because you’re human, it can’t get out. A hybrid put it in you. A hybrid has to pull it out.”
“And Baz? He has to be...aroused too?”
“Yeah. He’s gotta be on the cusp of climax, I guess. That’s why Joff is here. So it won’t flow back into you. After drawing it out of you, Baz will channel his...feelings into Joff. Another hybrid. So it’s safe.”
Christian looked miserable, and Myles didn’t know how to soothe him. But Baz had told Nolan what the Whites’ diagnosis said. The energy Baz inadvertently transferred to Christian was alien, something a human body was not designed to endure. Christian would be unable to release it naturally, through sex, exercise, or anything else, unless a hybrid or a White intervened—and the conduit had to be sexual. Otherworldly sexual energy had put it there. Otherworldly sexual energy had to remove it.
To get back what is give out.
Myles recalled the conversation with Baz the night before. Giving without receiving would apparently drain a hybrid. But for a human, merely receiving from a hybrid sent things all screwy in the body, upside down and inside out. And according to Nolan, the Whites were furious about this. Myles didn’t know what that meant for Baz, or the future of their alliance. He was only grateful that at the moment, at least Ogden wasn’t involved. Small blessing in the larger scheme of things.
None of that mattered now. It had to be done. Because this sexual, alien energy Baz had inadvertently blasted into Christian, was eating him up inside, tearing him apart, erratic in the unfamiliar landscape of Christian’s human body. According to the Whites, it was likely that when this thing eventually exhausted its efforts trying to lash out and release the pressure, it would begin to channel inward, draining Christian. The dizzy spells were only the start. If this wasn’t dealt with, the energy would eventually drain him dry. Feed on his life force. It was like a bouncing ball of otherworldly fire inside his body, thrashing around and seeking release. But it was trapped.
Myles had never been a group sex guy, never been intimate with a partner in front of other people. It was definitely not his thing. But he was able to put his own discomfort aside, because this was Christian’s life they were playing with here. If Myles had to strip himself bare, literally and figuratively, to save Christian? He was more than willing to step outside his comfort zone. The biggest problem would be getting Christian relaxed enough to comply. At the moment, Christian was the polar opposite of relaxed. He was wired, nervous as fuck, and terrified.
“Come on,” Myles said. “Nolan and Elliot are inside. We’ll have a drink. Talk a while. Then figure this out.”
“I need a minute.” Christian hung his head in his hands, breath
ing heavily. “Fuck! Why is this happening?”
“Christian...now’s not the time to—”
“All I had to do was shut my mouth and listen to someone else for a change. Listen to you and Elliot and not go to that cabin to confront Baz. But no. I knew best. I am such a fucking asshole!”
A crack spider-webbed across the windshield on Christian’s side.
“Christian!”
Christian looked quickly up, eyes wide. “Shit.” He stared at the crack in the glass. “Shit, I’m sorry Myles. I’m sorry.”
Myles grabbed his head and turned his face toward him. “Look at me. Breathe.”
Taking a deep breath, Christian closed his eyes and let it out.
“That’s it. Slowly. In and out. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s you and me, Christian. Just us. Nothing can hurt us. Just you and me. Calm. Breathing. In and out.”
For the next five minutes, Myles held Christian. Neither spoke. Myles kept his arm wrapped around Christian’s back, head pressed against his temple. And they just breathed. No further cracks appeared on the windshield. But with the engine off, it was starting to get cold in the truck.
“Guess we should go in,” Christian whispered.
“Only when you’re ready. You’re in control, okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Kiss me.”
Cradling Christian’s face, Myles kissed him, opening his mouth when Christian’s tongue searched his lips. Christian didn’t seem to want to let go, and Myles let him control the kiss, let him decide how long he needed it. Finally, Christian eased back. “It’s just sex. Right?”
Myles smiled. “It’s just sex.”
“And we’re pretty good at that. Don’t you think?”
“We definitely hold our own.”
Christian chuckled. “All right. Let’s go.”
They left the truck and Myles took Christian’s hand as they walked up to the front door, breathing the frigid mountain air. Myles rang the doorbell, then smiled at Christian, pointing to the door. “Nice wreath, huh? Ever think Elliot and Nolan would end up so domestic?”
Christian huffed. “Nolan? Maybe. Elliot? Never. It’s still so weird.”
“He seems happy though.”
“Yeah. They both do. I’m glad.”
Myles was pleased with the distracting banter, and that Christian seemed slightly calmer.
The door opened and Elliot grinned at them, dressed in jeans with thick red socks, a long-sleeved black tee shirt with a vulgar image of Santa Claus holding his semen-spewing dick. The caption read ‘SANTA ONLY COMES ONCE A YEAR!’
Myles cocked an eyebrow. “Hey, Elliot.”
“Hey, boys.”
They stepped into the foyer, and Christian sneered at Elliot’s shirt. “Did you have to wear that? Seriously, Elliot.”
Elliot slapped Christian’s shoulder. “What else would I wear to a Christmas party slash alien sex circus?”
“Elliot!”
“Come on.” Elliot grabbed Christian’s shoulders and shook him playfully. “The only way to get through something gravely serious is to not take it seriously. Right?”
Christian smirked.
“Right?” Elliot pulled Christian into a hug. “Come on. Give me your coats. Let’s get you a martini.”
Elliot released Christian. He and Myles took their coats off, then followed Elliot into the house. The place was warm and welcoming, dimly lit and smartly decorated, flames crackling in the fireplace.
“Come over to the bar and get a drink,” Elliot said, leading them into the big room with the wall of glass. “Nolan’s in the dining room entertaining our other guests, but we can take a minute to ourselves before we go in.”
A tall, fat Christmas tree stood near the windows, and the room smelled like pine and wood fire. Elliot bounced over to a bar in the corner and got three martini glasses out, chattering to Christian about village gossip, JT’s upcoming Christmas party, Nolan’s cat, anything but the reason they were there. It was a comforting distraction. Music played from somewhere, Billy Idol’s ‘Eyes Without a Face’, and Myles instantly relaxed.
“Here you go.” Elliot handed Christian a martini. “Sorry if it’s not as good as Nolan’s, he’s the expert. But he told me how you like it. Even got you the blue cheese stuffed olives.”
“Thanks, El.” Christian sipped the drink, his brows rising. “Not bad.”
“Myles?” Elliot handed Myles one as well.
“Thank you.” Myles took two hearty sips, grateful for the way the alcohol instantly warmed his blood and soothed his nerves.
Elliot picked up his own martini and leaned against the bar. “You guys are coming to the Christmas party at the pub this weekend, right?”
Christian huffed and sipped his drink. “Sure. If I survive that long.”
Elliot’s green eyes narrowed. “The fuck does that mean?”
“You know what it means. You know why we’re here.”
Elliot leaned in to Christian. “Hey. Cut the bullshit.”
“What? I’m just being honest.”
“So you have to get your rocks off in front of an alien. We’ve been through worse things.”
Christian shrugged, looking down.
“Hey!” Elliot slapped his shoulder and Christian looked up. “Remember when Nolan almost died in October?”
Sighing through his nose, Christian nodded. “Like I could forget that.”
“Yeah.” Elliot nodded. “It fucking sucked. Remember me freaking out and screaming and crying and you slapped me across the face and told me we had to stay calm?”
Christian rolled his eyes. “Yes, Elliot. I remember.”
Elliot pointed at him. “Don’t make me return the favor. Because I am not in the mood to have another friend almost die on me just two months after I almost lost Nolan. So suck it up, calm your shit, and do what you have to do tonight. Like the scrappy little reprobate you are. Or I swear to God I will smack your pouty ass into the next millennium. Got it?”
“Got it. So what happens now?”
“Drink your martini. Then we’ll go sit down with Nolan and our two favorite Q-Tips and hash things out. Don’t worry, Nolan and I will make ourselves scarce eventually, but we’ll stick around as long as you need us. Oh, and be forewarned. Baz is exceptionally salty this evening.”
Myles chuckled. “He’s not loving this idea either then.”
“Please.” Elliot rolled his eyes. “Got his ass chewed off by the Whites. He’s been a very naughty boy this year and I’m pretty sure he’s getting coal in his stocking. But really, be prepared. He’s in a fucking mood.”
“Great,” Christian said. “Should make for a perfect setting for intimate relations tonight.”
“I know, I know,” Elliot said. “And you have every right to be cranky too. Just try and remember, Baz is also riddled with guilt. Try to go easy on him, okay?”
“I’ll do what I have to. I just want to get it over with. And Myles will be here. To help.”
Elliot glanced at Myles. “Drink up, Sheriff. It’s gonna be a bumpy night.”
“Yeah.” Myles huffed. “I’m aware.”
“But you better stick to the one martini, Christian.” Elliot smirked. “Need your equipment working tonight.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Christian lifted his shirt and showed Elliot the bulge in his jeans.
“Shit.” Elliot frowned. “Nolan told me but...it’s still happening?”
“Every hour on the hour, boners for everyone and everything,” Christian said. “I have become a human tripod.” He dropped his shirt, letting it cover the front of his jeans, then downed his martini.
“All right,” Elliot said. “You two ready to go face the others?”
Myles wrapped an arm around Christian. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Christian took a deep breath and let it out. “Lead the way, Elliot.”
****
The
y followed Elliot through the kitchen, which was open-concept with a huge dining room just off it. At the dining table, Nolan sat with the two hybrids. Nolan and Joff were across from each other, but Christian’s eyes immediately fell on Baz, seated at the head of the table, farthest away.
Baz was wearing dark sunglasses, eyes hidden. He slouched back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. His body language was clearly defensive, closed off, and he gave no indication that he noticed when Christian and Myles walked into the room. “Okay, I’m gonna go grab some refreshments,” Elliot said. “Be right back.”
Nolan looked up and smiled tightly. “Hey guys. Have a seat.”
Christian took the chair next to Nolan, and Myles rounded the table and sat across from him, next to Joff. The hybrids were both in human clothing tonight, attire oddly similar to Nolan’s—baggy ski sweaters, jeans, and boots. Joff glanced at Myles, then his head turned and huge, luminous eyes landed on Christian. Baz’s hybrid boyfriend looked different than Christian remembered from when they met after Elliot and Nolan’s wedding. That night his snow-white hair had been a kind of shaggy bowl cut. But it had grown out some since then. Joff’s thin white locks had a slight wave, parted in the middle and falling to his jawline.
The new hairstyle accentuated his high forehead, making his eyes look even larger, and Christian noted that Joff wasn’t bad looking as far as hybrids went. Christian could see both human and alien in his features. Slightly different than Baz’s face, Joff had a shorter chin and a longer nose, though his nose still held the cleft at the end all hybrids seemed to have. He shared the signature blue and green double-iris inherited from the Whites, but the colors were a different shade than Baz’s, pale like tinted ice against his smooth alabaster skin.
But spooky eyes aside, his expression was warm. Joff smiled at Christian with lips closed. The smile added to his ethereal beauty, lending expression to his face. “Hello, Christian. Is happy to see you again.”
Christian raised his eyebrows in surprise at the full, coherent sentence. Joff’s voice was soft and raspy, only a slight accent. And he’d used Christian’s actual name, where Baz always called him ‘Chrischris’.