Posted using PostyBirb",
"writing": "The door closed, and Niel looked up from the display. He rubbed his eyes to clear them, and the cougar stood there, looking at him, his expression turning worried.\n\n“What have you been into these last weeks?”\n\nNiel looked at the screen again. He’d lost track of which historical database he was looking through at this point.\n\n“Have you even gotten laid?”\n\n“Every day,” Niel replied and frowned, looking again at Brandon. “What’s with the bag?” Maybe he needed to take a break if he missed he was holding that.\n\nThe cougar headed for his dresser. “I’m getting my stuff ready. I’m heading home right after practice tomorrow; my dad’s picking me up.”\n\n“But tomorrow’s just Wednesday.” Today was Tuesday, right? A quick glance confirmed that.\n\n“It’s not just a Wednesday, roomie. It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Unlike you, I’m looking at a four-hour drive after two hours of getting screamed at by the coach. I have to get my stuff ready before.”\n\n“What are you talking about? Thanksgiving is in two weeks.” He looked at the clock at the bottom corner of the screen again, leaned in and blinked until it came into focus. “Oh, shit.”\n\n“Relax, you’re basically a hop and a skip away. You have time.”\n\nThis couldn’t be happening. “It’s just me and my dad again this year.” The two of them at the dinner table with a large serving of tension.\n\nThey’d made it work the last two years. They missed the Hertz, but there hadn’t been this secret between them. Well, it had been there since the moment of his birth, but Niel hadn’t known about it.\n\nWhy go home at all? He could message Stewart and… what could he say? What could he say that wouldn’t have him coming over trying to get the father of the year award? He couldn’t simply sit there, just him and Stewart. There would be questions, evasions, and Niel wasn’t sure he could keep his temper under control when Stewart acted like eighteen years of hiding the truth was no big thing.\n\nHe straightened.\n\n“What happened?”\n\nNiel ignored the cougar’s question as he rushed outside. Who said it had to only be the two of them?\n\n* * * * *\n\n“Niel!” Limbani exclaimed on opening the door. “Hungry again?” He licked his lips.\n\n“No, but I need your help.”\n\n“What’s up?” Kuno called, leaning against the kitchen’s doorframe, pint of chocolate mint ice cream in hand.\n\n“Give us a second,” the monkey said, slipping a hand in Niel’s pants.\n\n“Lim, not now,” Niel protested the stroking, then moaned.\n\n“Limbani, Stop!” Kuno ordered. “Niel, What’s wrong?” He was next to them, searching the raccoon’s face.\n\nAfter a squeeze of the hard cock, the monkey pulled his hand out, and raised it innocently at the margay’s glare.\n\nNiel caught his breath. “We should get the others, at least those who aren’t going home for Thanksgiving.”\n\nA minute later, he was seated in the ground-floor living room with eight guys facing him. He took a breath. “Alright, things are tense between me and my dad and—”\n\n“Just fuck it out,” Erwin said, and Niel glared at the rabbit. “What? It’s a great way to work off that angry energy, then you can talk the problem through in the afterglow.”\n\n“Niel isn’t Society,” Peng said. “Respect that he isn’t comfortable with all the things we do.”\n\n“I’ll help,” Limbani offered eagerly. “I don’t care what it’s about.”\n\n“I…” Niel could just imagine the scale of the uncomfortable having the monkey hit on Steward would cause. “No, Lim. Thanks, but no.”\n\n“I can be subdued.” The monkey crossed his arms over his chest at the explosion of laughter. “Now I know who’s going without for a while.”\n\n“I do appreciate it,” Niel said once that wave of laughter died down. “And you can help me with my problem over this weekend’s away game.”\n\n“Oh,” the monkey bounced in his seat. “Do I get to do the whole team?”\n\nNiel sighed. This could easily turn into the highschool team again, only without mind control as a way to excusing the molesting that happens. “How about we revisit that in a bit. What I need right now is a wingman to come with me to my dad’s Thanksgiving.”\n\n“Things are that bad?” Kuno asked, sounding worried.\n\n“Is this because you went with Olavo?” Gagan asked.\n\n“Not exactly, but yeah, sort of. I just don’t want to be alone with him this year. I figured that since some of you aren’t going home, one of you might be interested in having dinner with us.”\n\n“Unless it’ll be vegetarian,” Gagan said, “I’ll have to pass.”\n\n“Wait, you’re just looking to have interference between you and your dad?” Kuno asked, and Niel nodded. “One person isn’t going to be enough for that.”\n\nNiel looked at the guys in the room. “We aren’t set up to feed a group, Kuno.”\n\n“I’m not saying we should go to your dad’s place.” The margay smiled. “I’m saying you should come celebrate Thanksgiving with me and my family.”\n\n* * * * *\n\nNiel was out the car before it came to a full stop and hoped the tense silence wouldn’t hound him. Stewart had tried, and failed, to fill the silence. His questions faltered before they were fully uttered. The one that made it out in its entirety had been innocent enough; he’d inquired about Niel history classes. That had sent Neil thinking about the research into the Antarctica expedition and Jarod’s history, which had brought back the secret Stewart kept and Niel had had to remain silent, in case that rekindled anger exploded.\n\nOther than the size, the building was unassuming. An apartment building on the outskirt of downtown St-Paul large enough to house six families. Because of their wealth, Niel figured Kuno’s family lived throughout the whole building. That, and Kuno mentioning a lot of guys lived in his father’s house.\n\nThat had been one of the reasons why Niel had thought this was bad idea.\n\nHis first argument had been that he was nowhere near upper-class enough to be with the Richards.\n\nKuno had rolled his eyes. “We might be rich, but everyone in my family holds down a job. Some of them blue collar jobs like your dad. Trust me, you aren’t the poorest person in my circle of friends.”\n\nSo, Niel had pointed out he wouldn’t have anything appropriate to wear. The few times he’d needed a suit, it had been rented. “And if you tell me we’re not expected to wear anything, it’s going to a hard no.”\n\nKuno had laughed. “Come on, you know we’re never expecting guys to wear anything, but we’re not one of those families who force anyone visiting to suck our cocks and be okay with it. If you and your dad are going to be there, everyone will be dressed, I promise.”\n\nRunning out of excuses, Niel pointed out Kuno couldn’t know his father would be okay with having the two strangers intruding into his Thanksgiving.\n\n“Really? Strangers?” Kuno replied with a roll of the eyes. “You’re my friend. That alone guarantees my dad will be okay with you and yours celebrating with us. But on top of that, you are a friend of the Hertz, and you’ve been going through a rough patch. My dad is going to be overjoyed to make space at our table.”\n\n“But the rest of the guys there are—”\n\n“Niel, what are your options here? You and your dad, alone. Some of the guys—”\n\n“Me, me, me!” Limbani exclaimed.\n\n“Or me and my family?”\n\nAnd here he was, in his best jeans and shirt, and his church shoes. His Sunday Best, as his mother had liked to call it.\n\nHe’d expected Stewart to shoot down the offer once Kuno confirmed his dad was on board. Instead, he’d been elated at the idea. Or, maybe, he’d just been happy Niel was talking with him and he’d have agreed to anything.\n\nStewart wore dress pants and a shirt. He looked like he was on his way to a meeting with his boss, as far as Niel was concerned.\n\nThe door opened before they reached it, and a margay a few years older than Niel watched them. The most surprising thing, to Niel, was that he was dressed. Jeans and an old T-shirt with a faded design on it. Stylized lightning over an electric guitar and drum set. He leaned back into the house.\n\n“Kuno, your friend and his dad are here! You didn’t tell me how hot they were!”\n\n“Bastien!” came a yelled reply. “What have I told you about ogling guests!”\n\n“Be discreet about it!”\n\n“And you call what you’re doing discreet?”\n\n“I’m not ogling anyone, Dad!” He rolled his eyes and definitely ogled Niel and Stewart. “The man raises me for the last seven years, and he think I’m going to obey him more than before he took me in.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sebastien. Everyone calls me Bastien. If you don’t, we’re going to have problems.”\n\n“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Bastien,” Stewart replied, shaking his hand.\n\n“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but hot guys are hot guys.”\n\n“I’m flattered, actually.”\n\n“Cool. There’s nothing hotter than a guy comfortable enough with himself not to be offended when another guy calls him hot.”\n\n“I think I’m uncomfortable enough for him,” Niel said, shaking the hand.\n\n“There’s nothing wrong with him thinking I’m hot, Niel.”\n\n“That’s not why.” Niel fixed his gaze on the grinning margay. “It’s what he’s imagining that’s got me squirming.”\n\n“Don’t let my cousin chase you away,” Kuno called, out of breath.\n\n“We aren’t going anywhere,” Niel replied.\n\nThe margay appeared. “Good. I’d have been here to welcome you, but someone—” Kuno glared at Bastien “—told my dad I’d volunteered with meal prep.”\n\n“Did you want him to ask Gaston?”\n\nKuno looked annoyed as he closed his mouth. “There are thirty guys in the house right now. Half of whom know how to cook. You just didn’t want me here to supervise you. I apologize if Bastian tried to jump your bones; whoever was in charge of installing his self-control chip needs to be fired.”\n\n“There was no jumping,” Stewart said.\n\n“Well…” Bastien looked the older raccoon up and down.\n\nThe rest was choked out as Kuno grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. “I swear Bass, you give the rest of us a bad name.”\n\n“It’s Bastien,” the other margay snapped, rubbing his neck.\n\n“Come on in.” Kuno motioned them inside. “I can’t promise everyone will be on their best behavior, but they will behave.” He took their jackets, put them in the closet and escorted them deeper into the house. A wide range of guys greeted them, going from slightly younger than Niel to the mid-thirties, with a few reaching forties or fifties.\n\nNiel was separated from his father during the introductions and shaking of hands and… nothing more. Considering how handsy Niel knew Society men to be, he didn’t quite know what to make of it.\n\nWhen he caught glances of Stewart, he was in conversations with older men, and a few times with younger ones, who seemed to enjoy talking with him. Niel received knowing smiles from a few of them as they caught him looking.\n\nNiel went looking for Kuno, needing to know what that was about.\n\n* * * * *\n\nNiel hadn’t tracked down his friend by the time dinner was called, but he had probably met everyone else in the house, and not been offered one quicky. He couldn’t decide if he was reassured by the self-control, annoyed that they weren’t that into him, or scared this was going to explode while they ate.\n\nThe dining room was huge. It had to be, with eighteen out of the twenty-five bedrooms in the building occupied. Niel was seated six seats from the head of the table, with Kuno on his left. Steward sat opposite, and three seats further back, talking with an older man.\n\nThe table had more food on it than Niel recalled seeing. More than this crowd could eat, he was sure. Several large turkeys with bowls and plates along the table. Cheese and vegetable casseroles, plates of potatoes in all their cooked forms. Loaves of bread, fresh by the smells. Bottles of pop, wine and beer.\n\nHe had a plain plate, with a large and small fork to a side. A knife and spoon to the others.\n\nKuno chuckles as Niel couldn’t stop staring at the simplicity of the presentation. “We keep the twenty-piece silverware placement for when we’re trying to impress people.”\n\nNiel opened his mouth to ask if there was such a thing.\n\n“And of course, we make sure to provide the instruction manual on how each utensil has to be used.”\n\nHe closed his muzzle and glared at his friend.\n\n“Alright everyone,” Leo, Kuno’s father, said, standing behind his seat at the head of the table. “I want to start by thanking our guests for accepting our invitation and if there is there’s a way you prefer starting the meal. We aren’t traditional in our beliefs, but as our guests, if you want to say grace, please feel free to do so.”\n\n“Thank you,” Stewart replied. “But this is your home. I’ll be happy to follow whatever tradition you do.” He looked around at the snickering that followed.\n\nLeo shushed everyone. “That’s kind of you. In that case, I’ll simply say thank you for everything we have gotten and will get.” He pulled his seat and sat. “Dig in.”\n\nChaos erupted as everyone reached for the food at the same time. Then things quieted as they ate. Niel ate little. Olavo had told him that he should be fine at this point, but he’d been so busy with his research he hadn’t put it to the test yet, and tonight didn’t feel like the time to risk an incident. What he did eat tasted amazing. Whoever the cook had been could give Nadia Hertz a run for her money.\n\n“Hey, Niel!” Bastien called from the other side of the table. “I thought you lived off sex.”\n\n“Sebastien,” Leo chastised him.\n\n“What? I’m curious. He’s from those Survivors everyone’s talking about, right? Don’t the stories say they don’t have to eat, just have sex?” he motioned to Niel and his plate. “And yet, there he is, eating the food we made.”\n\n“I don’t remember you helping,” Someone said.\n\n“We, us. The Richards.” Bastian rolled his eyes. “Not me specifically.”\n\n“Sure,” the same person said, imbuing an impressive amount of sarcasm in the lone word.\n\nStewart’s attentive expression in his direction reminded Niel he knew only the barest facts about what it meant to be a Survivor.\n\n“I don’t need to eat. In fact, I couldn’t survive on food if I tried. I have to have sex once a day to be ‘sated’. But I can still eat food. Food tastes good, and I think that’s reason enough to do it.”\n\n“You aren’t exactly eating like someone who’s loving the food.” The older man next to Stewart said, with a hint of reproach.\n\n“I’m…” he trailed off, wondering how much he could explain. As far as Neil knew, their existence was the only secrets the Survivors had been interested in keeping. With that cat out of the bag, he shouldn’t have to worry, not that he was looking forward to explaining his… condition.\n\n“Because I was initiated only a few weeks ago, my body has to adjust. The results of eating too much can be forcefully explosives and I don’t want to risk that.” He folded his ears in embarrassment and promised himself he was eating a solid meal first chance he got to know for sure.\n\n“You seriously don’t get anything from eating food?” A thirty-something asked. “Like at all? I thought the surviving off sex thing was like us. We just need it to stay powered up.”\n\n“Powered up?” Stewart asked.\n\nThe table fell silent.\n\n“Way to go Russel,” Someone young said.\n\n“He’s his dad,” Russel replied. “How is any of this a secret?”\n\nKuno groaned. “That’s what I get for not making my warning a power-point presentation and forcing everyone to sit through it.”\n\n“It might have been too much to expect this aspect to remain secret at the table, Kuno,” Leo said, then turned to Steward. “The short of it is that the group your son is affiliated with is part of our group as well. Sex is also power for us. It’s more complex than just hat, of course, but magic is real.”\n\nStewart nodded.\n\n“I was expecting a freak-out,” someone said.\n\n“Pay up!” another added.\n\nKuno sank into his chair, but Niel was more interested in Stewart’s reaction to comfort his friend.\n\n“My grandfather looks younger than me,” Stewart said. “He carefully explained how things work for him so I wouldn’t accidentally make them happen to Niel. It’s how I knew what was happening when the doctors mentioned he wasn’t getting nutrition from the food or the IV. It’s surprising to learn there’s more, but not shockingly so.”\n\n“I’m glad you’re talking it well,” Leo said. “It isn’t a common reaction.”\n\n“Can I ask a question in return?”\n\n“Of course.”\n\n“Everyone’s referring to each other as siblings, but also cousins. Jackson’s your nephew, but you called him son. What is that? Also, why isn’t there anyone under seventeen here, or women?”\n\n“Ah.” Leo composed himself in the absolute silence around the table. “Do you recall the rise in anti-gay sentiment, seven or so years ago?”\n\nNiel nodded along with Steward. It had been all over the news, especially when the protests turned violent. Niel had been eleven at the time and he remember them.\n\n“There was more to it than simply what the news report said. We, the Society, were the primary target. We made sure that fact never came to light, nor any of the attacks against our families. Every family suffered losses. The Richards weren’t the hardest hit, but our losses were significant.”\n\n“My condolences,” Niel said, at the same time as Stewart.\n\n“Thank you. We dealt with the losses by coming together. Not so much abandoning the standard North American family structure, but setting it aside until we are healed.” He paused. “As for the women… I lost my wife during that time. Collateral damage, since I and Kuno were the intended targets. We’d been together for twenty years. There was a push to repopulate, but we aren’t the Lewistons. Our personal choices were respected. Think of this household as being filled with bachelors. The older among us decided the loss was too much to look for another woman. The younger… well, they’re young and think they have all the time in the world before they have a son of their own.”\n\n“Or some of us are, you know, perfectly happy not having kids.” The speaker sounded young.\n\n“Give it time,” Russel said. “You don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve held him in your hands.”\n\n“Then I’m golden. I’ll never know.”\n\n“And that’s why there aren’t any kids here tonight?” Stewart asked.\n\n“Oh,” Russel said, looking around the table, “there are plenty of kids here.”\n\n“There are children in this household,” Leo answered. “Many babies lost their parents, and the rest of us are doing our part. Because there are so many older boys and men at the moment, instead of forcing them to endure what I’m sure they’d feel is a tedious meal with us, they have their own Thanksgiving celebration. One more in line with their age and preferences.”\n\n“And I wish I’d gone to that one instead,” someone grumbled.\n\n“I as I said,” Russel said, “there are kids here.” This time the comment caused laughter, and the conversation moved on to light topics.\n\nDesert was a collection of cakes and pies. Niel couldn’t believe anyone was still hungry. He and Stewart shared a disbelieving look as arguments over who got the last pieces erupted. Niel indulged in a little white chiffon cake with the best strawberry ice cream he’d ever tasted.\n\nAs one of the men took off his shirt, Niel realized the meal had only sated one of their appetites. Others followed, and Steward looked around, bemused.\n\n“Now.” Leo stood, undoing his belt. “It is our tradition to thank Him the way He wants us to on this day, more than others.” The snorts that followed sounded disbelieving. Even Russel rolled his eyes. “You are welcome to join us in the celebration.”\n\nStanding, Niel said, “I think we should go.”\n\n“Why?” Stewart asked, perplexed.\n\nNiel stared at him. “They’re going to have sex. Guys, together, having sex. I know at least one of them is going to try to force himself on you.”\n\nAgain, Steward looked surprised. “Niel, why do you think he’d have to force anything?”\n\n“Because you’re straight.” He did not add the ‘duh’.\n\nStewart smirked. “Niel, how do you imagine I was comfortable asking Petro to have sex with my son to save his life?”\n\nNiel stared at the man, having difficulty processing the implications.\n\nThe realization his dad was bi hit just about the time Bastien jumped up exclaiming. “I call dibs!”",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "The door closed, and Niel looked up from the display. He rubbed his eyes to clear them, and the cougar stood there, looking at him, his expression turning worried.
“What have you been into these last weeks?”
Niel looked at the screen again. He’d lost track of which historical database he was looking through at this point.
“Have you even gotten laid?”
“Every day,” Niel replied and frowned, looking again at Brandon. “What’s with the bag?” Maybe he needed to take a break if he missed he was holding that.
The cougar headed for his dresser. “I’m getting my stuff ready. I’m heading home right after practice tomorrow; my dad’s picking me up.”
“But tomorrow’s just Wednesday.” Today was Tuesday, right? A quick glance confirmed that.
“It’s not just a Wednesday, roomie. It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Unlike you, I’m looking at a four-hour drive after two hours of getting screamed at by the coach. I have to get my stuff ready before.”
“What are you talking about? Thanksgiving is in two weeks.” He looked at the clock at the bottom corner of the screen again, leaned in and blinked until it came into focus. “Oh, shit.”
“Relax, you’re basically a hop and a skip away. You have time.”
This couldn’t be happening. “It’s just me and my dad again this year.” The two of them at the dinner table with a large serving of tension.
They’d made it work the last two years. They missed the Hertz, but there hadn’t been this secret between them. Well, it had been there since the moment of his birth, but Niel hadn’t known about it.
Why go home at all? He could message Stewart and… what could he say? What could he say that wouldn’t have him coming over trying to get the father of the year award? He couldn’t simply sit there, just him and Stewart. There would be questions, evasions, and Niel wasn’t sure he could keep his temper under control when Stewart acted like eighteen years of hiding the truth was no big thing.
He straightened.
“What happened?”
Niel ignored the cougar’s question as he rushed outside. Who said it had to only be the two of them?
* * * * *
“Niel!” Limbani exclaimed on opening the door. “Hungry again?” He licked his lips.
“No, but I need your help.”
“What’s up?” Kuno called, leaning against the kitchen’s doorframe, pint of chocolate mint ice cream in hand.
“Give us a second,” the monkey said, slipping a hand in Niel’s pants.
“Lim, not now,” Niel protested the stroking, then moaned.
“Limbani, Stop!” Kuno ordered. “Niel, What’s wrong?” He was next to them, searching the raccoon’s face.
After a squeeze of the hard cock, the monkey pulled his hand out, and raised it innocently at the margay’s glare.
Niel caught his breath. “We should get the others, at least those who aren’t going home for Thanksgiving.”
A minute later, he was seated in the ground-floor living room with eight guys facing him. He took a breath. “Alright, things are tense between me and my dad and—”
“Just fuck it out,” Erwin said, and Niel glared at the rabbit. “What? It’s a great way to work off that angry energy, then you can talk the problem through in the afterglow.”
“Niel isn’t Society,” Peng said. “Respect that he isn’t comfortable with all the things we do.”
“I’ll help,” Limbani offered eagerly. “I don’t care what it’s about.”
“I…” Niel could just imagine the scale of the uncomfortable having the monkey hit on Steward would cause. “No, Lim. Thanks, but no.”
“I can be subdued.” The monkey crossed his arms over his chest at the explosion of laughter. “Now I know who’s going without for a while.”
“I do appreciate it,” Niel said once that wave of laughter died down. “And you can help me with my problem over this weekend’s away game.”
“Oh,” the monkey bounced in his seat. “Do I get to do the whole team?”
Niel sighed. This could easily turn into the highschool team again, only without mind control as a way to excusing the molesting that happens. “How about we revisit that in a bit. What I need right now is a wingman to come with me to my dad’s Thanksgiving.”
“Things are that bad?” Kuno asked, sounding worried.
“Is this because you went with Olavo?” Gagan asked.
“Not exactly, but yeah, sort of. I just don’t want to be alone with him this year. I figured that since some of you aren’t going home, one of you might be interested in having dinner with us.”
“Unless it’ll be vegetarian,” Gagan said, “I’ll have to pass.”
“Wait, you’re just looking to have interference between you and your dad?” Kuno asked, and Niel nodded. “One person isn’t going to be enough for that.”
Niel looked at the guys in the room. “We aren’t set up to feed a group, Kuno.”
“I’m not saying we should go to your dad’s place.” The margay smiled. “I’m saying you should come celebrate Thanksgiving with me and my family.”
* * * * *
Niel was out the car before it came to a full stop and hoped the tense silence wouldn’t hound him. Stewart had tried, and failed, to fill the silence. His questions faltered before they were fully uttered. The one that made it out in its entirety had been innocent enough; he’d inquired about Niel history classes. That had sent Neil thinking about the research into the Antarctica expedition and Jarod’s history, which had brought back the secret Stewart kept and Niel had had to remain silent, in case that rekindled anger exploded.
Other than the size, the building was unassuming. An apartment building on the outskirt of downtown St-Paul large enough to house six families. Because of their wealth, Niel figured Kuno’s family lived throughout the whole building. That, and Kuno mentioning a lot of guys lived in his father’s house.
That had been one of the reasons why Niel had thought this was bad idea.
His first argument had been that he was nowhere near upper-class enough to be with the Richards.
Kuno had rolled his eyes. “We might be rich, but everyone in my family holds down a job. Some of them blue collar jobs like your dad. Trust me, you aren’t the poorest person in my circle of friends.”
So, Niel had pointed out he wouldn’t have anything appropriate to wear. The few times he’d needed a suit, it had been rented. “And if you tell me we’re not expected to wear anything, it’s going to a hard no.”
Kuno had laughed. “Come on, you know we’re never expecting guys to wear anything, but we’re not one of those families who force anyone visiting to suck our cocks and be okay with it. If you and your dad are going to be there, everyone will be dressed, I promise.”
Running out of excuses, Niel pointed out Kuno couldn’t know his father would be okay with having the two strangers intruding into his Thanksgiving.
“Really? Strangers?” Kuno replied with a roll of the eyes. “You’re my friend. That alone guarantees my dad will be okay with you and yours celebrating with us. But on top of that, you are a friend of the Hertz, and you’ve been going through a rough patch. My dad is going to be overjoyed to make space at our table.”
“But the rest of the guys there are—”
“Niel, what are your options here? You and your dad, alone. Some of the guys—”
“Me, me, me!” Limbani exclaimed.
“Or me and my family?”
And here he was, in his best jeans and shirt, and his church shoes. His Sunday Best, as his mother had liked to call it.
He’d expected Stewart to shoot down the offer once Kuno confirmed his dad was on board. Instead, he’d been elated at the idea. Or, maybe, he’d just been happy Niel was talking with him and he’d have agreed to anything.
Stewart wore dress pants and a shirt. He looked like he was on his way to a meeting with his boss, as far as Niel was concerned.
The door opened before they reached it, and a margay a few years older than Niel watched them. The most surprising thing, to Niel, was that he was dressed. Jeans and an old T-shirt with a faded design on it. Stylized lightning over an electric guitar and drum set. He leaned back into the house.
“Kuno, your friend and his dad are here! You didn’t tell me how hot they were!”
“Bastien!” came a yelled reply. “What have I told you about ogling guests!”
“Be discreet about it!”
“And you call what you’re doing discreet?”
“I’m not ogling anyone, Dad!” He rolled his eyes and definitely ogled Niel and Stewart. “The man raises me for the last seven years, and he think I’m going to obey him more than before he took me in.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sebastien. Everyone calls me Bastien. If you don’t, we’re going to have problems.”
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Bastien,” Stewart replied, shaking his hand.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but hot guys are hot guys.”
“I’m flattered, actually.”
“Cool. There’s nothing hotter than a guy comfortable enough with himself not to be offended when another guy calls him hot.”
“I think I’m uncomfortable enough for him,” Niel said, shaking the hand.
“There’s nothing wrong with him thinking I’m hot, Niel.”
“That’s not why.” Niel fixed his gaze on the grinning margay. “It’s what he’s imagining that’s got me squirming.”
“Don’t let my cousin chase you away,” Kuno called, out of breath.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Niel replied.
The margay appeared. “Good. I’d have been here to welcome you, but someone—” Kuno glared at Bastien “—told my dad I’d volunteered with meal prep.”
“Did you want him to ask Gaston?”
Kuno looked annoyed as he closed his mouth. “There are thirty guys in the house right now. Half of whom know how to cook. You just didn’t want me here to supervise you. I apologize if Bastian tried to jump your bones; whoever was in charge of installing his self-control chip needs to be fired.”
“There was no jumping,” Stewart said.
“Well…” Bastien looked the older raccoon up and down.
The rest was choked out as Kuno grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. “I swear Bass, you give the rest of us a bad name.”
“It’s Bastien,” the other margay snapped, rubbing his neck.
“Come on in.” Kuno motioned them inside. “I can’t promise everyone will be on their best behavior, but they will behave.” He took their jackets, put them in the closet and escorted them deeper into the house. A wide range of guys greeted them, going from slightly younger than Niel to the mid-thirties, with a few reaching forties or fifties.
Niel was separated from his father during the introductions and shaking of hands and… nothing more. Considering how handsy Niel knew Society men to be, he didn’t quite know what to make of it.
When he caught glances of Stewart, he was in conversations with older men, and a few times with younger ones, who seemed to enjoy talking with him. Niel received knowing smiles from a few of them as they caught him looking.
Niel went looking for Kuno, needing to know what that was about.
* * * * *
Niel hadn’t tracked down his friend by the time dinner was called, but he had probably met everyone else in the house, and not been offered one quicky. He couldn’t decide if he was reassured by the self-control, annoyed that they weren’t that into him, or scared this was going to explode while they ate.
The dining room was huge. It had to be, with eighteen out of the twenty-five bedrooms in the building occupied. Niel was seated six seats from the head of the table, with Kuno on his left. Steward sat opposite, and three seats further back, talking with an older man.
The table had more food on it than Niel recalled seeing. More than this crowd could eat, he was sure. Several large turkeys with bowls and plates along the table. Cheese and vegetable casseroles, plates of potatoes in all their cooked forms. Loaves of bread, fresh by the smells. Bottles of pop, wine and beer.
He had a plain plate, with a large and small fork to a side. A knife and spoon to the others.
Kuno chuckles as Niel couldn’t stop staring at the simplicity of the presentation. “We keep the twenty-piece silverware placement for when we’re trying to impress people.”
Niel opened his mouth to ask if there was such a thing.
“And of course, we make sure to provide the instruction manual on how each utensil has to be used.”
He closed his muzzle and glared at his friend.
“Alright everyone,” Leo, Kuno’s father, said, standing behind his seat at the head of the table. “I want to start by thanking our guests for accepting our invitation and if there is there’s a way you prefer starting the meal. We aren’t traditional in our beliefs, but as our guests, if you want to say grace, please feel free to do so.”
“Thank you,” Stewart replied. “But this is your home. I’ll be happy to follow whatever tradition you do.” He looked around at the snickering that followed.
Leo shushed everyone. “That’s kind of you. In that case, I’ll simply say thank you for everything we have gotten and will get.” He pulled his seat and sat. “Dig in.”
Chaos erupted as everyone reached for the food at the same time. Then things quieted as they ate. Niel ate little. Olavo had told him that he should be fine at this point, but he’d been so busy with his research he hadn’t put it to the test yet, and tonight didn’t feel like the time to risk an incident. What he did eat tasted amazing. Whoever the cook had been could give Nadia Hertz a run for her money.
“Hey, Niel!” Bastien called from the other side of the table. “I thought you lived off sex.”
“Sebastien,” Leo chastised him.
“What? I’m curious. He’s from those Survivors everyone’s talking about, right? Don’t the stories say they don’t have to eat, just have sex?” he motioned to Niel and his plate. “And yet, there he is, eating the food we made.”
“I don’t remember you helping,” Someone said.
“We, us. The Richards.” Bastian rolled his eyes. “Not me specifically.”
“Sure,” the same person said, imbuing an impressive amount of sarcasm in the lone word.
Stewart’s attentive expression in his direction reminded Niel he knew only the barest facts about what it meant to be a Survivor.
“I don’t need to eat. In fact, I couldn’t survive on food if I tried. I have to have sex once a day to be ‘sated’. But I can still eat food. Food tastes good, and I think that’s reason enough to do it.”
“You aren’t exactly eating like someone who’s loving the food.” The older man next to Stewart said, with a hint of reproach.
“I’m…” he trailed off, wondering how much he could explain. As far as Neil knew, their existence was the only secrets the Survivors had been interested in keeping. With that cat out of the bag, he shouldn’t have to worry, not that he was looking forward to explaining his… condition.
“Because I was initiated only a few weeks ago, my body has to adjust. The results of eating too much can be forcefully explosives and I don’t want to risk that.” He folded his ears in embarrassment and promised himself he was eating a solid meal first chance he got to know for sure.
“You seriously don’t get anything from eating food?” A thirty-something asked. “Like at all? I thought the surviving off sex thing was like us. We just need it to stay powered up.”
“Powered up?” Stewart asked.
The table fell silent.
“Way to go Russel,” Someone young said.
“He’s his dad,” Russel replied. “How is any of this a secret?”
Kuno groaned. “That’s what I get for not making my warning a power-point presentation and forcing everyone to sit through it.”
“It might have been too much to expect this aspect to remain secret at the table, Kuno,” Leo said, then turned to Steward. “The short of it is that the group your son is affiliated with is part of our group as well. Sex is also power for us. It’s more complex than just hat, of course, but magic is real.”
Stewart nodded.
“I was expecting a freak-out,” someone said.
“Pay up!” another added.
Kuno sank into his chair, but Niel was more interested in Stewart’s reaction to comfort his friend.
“My grandfather looks younger than me,” Stewart said. “He carefully explained how things work for him so I wouldn’t accidentally make them happen to Niel. It’s how I knew what was happening when the doctors mentioned he wasn’t getting nutrition from the food or the IV. It’s surprising to learn there’s more, but not shockingly so.”
“I’m glad you’re talking it well,” Leo said. “It isn’t a common reaction.”
“Can I ask a question in return?”
“Of course.”
“Everyone’s referring to each other as siblings, but also cousins. Jackson’s your nephew, but you called him son. What is that? Also, why isn’t there anyone under seventeen here, or women?”
“Ah.” Leo composed himself in the absolute silence around the table. “Do you recall the rise in anti-gay sentiment, seven or so years ago?”
Niel nodded along with Steward. It had been all over the news, especially when the protests turned violent. Niel had been eleven at the time and he remember them.
“There was more to it than simply what the news report said. We, the Society, were the primary target. We made sure that fact never came to light, nor any of the attacks against our families. Every family suffered losses. The Richards weren’t the hardest hit, but our losses were significant.”
“My condolences,” Niel said, at the same time as Stewart.
“Thank you. We dealt with the losses by coming together. Not so much abandoning the standard North American family structure, but setting it aside until we are healed.” He paused. “As for the women… I lost my wife during that time. Collateral damage, since I and Kuno were the intended targets. We’d been together for twenty years. There was a push to repopulate, but we aren’t the Lewistons. Our personal choices were respected. Think of this household as being filled with bachelors. The older among us decided the loss was too much to look for another woman. The younger… well, they’re young and think they have all the time in the world before they have a son of their own.”
“Or some of us are, you know, perfectly happy not having kids.” The speaker sounded young.
“Give it time,” Russel said. “You don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve held him in your hands.”
“Then I’m golden. I’ll never know.”
“And that’s why there aren’t any kids here tonight?” Stewart asked.
“Oh,” Russel said, looking around the table, “there are plenty of kids here.”
“There are children in this household,” Leo answered. “Many babies lost their parents, and the rest of us are doing our part. Because there are so many older boys and men at the moment, instead of forcing them to endure what I’m sure they’d feel is a tedious meal with us, they have their own Thanksgiving celebration. One more in line with their age and preferences.”
“And I wish I’d gone to that one instead,” someone grumbled.
“I as I said,” Russel said, “there are kids here.” This time the comment caused laughter, and the conversation moved on to light topics.
Desert was a collection of cakes and pies. Niel couldn’t believe anyone was still hungry. He and Stewart shared a disbelieving look as arguments over who got the last pieces erupted. Niel indulged in a little white chiffon cake with the best strawberry ice cream he’d ever tasted.
As one of the men took off his shirt, Niel realized the meal had only sated one of their appetites. Others followed, and Steward looked around, bemused.
“Now.” Leo stood, undoing his belt. “It is our tradition to thank Him the way He wants us to on this day, more than others.” The snorts that followed sounded disbelieving. Even Russel rolled his eyes. “You are welcome to join us in the celebration.”
Standing, Niel said, “I think we should go.”
“Why?” Stewart asked, perplexed.
Niel stared at him. “They’re going to have sex. Guys, together, having sex. I know at least one of them is going to try to force himself on you.”
Again, Steward looked surprised. “Niel, why do you think he’d have to force anything?”
“Because you’re straight.” He did not add the ‘duh’.
Stewart smirked. “Niel, how do you imagine I was comfortable asking Petro to have sex with my son to save his life?”
Niel stared at the man, having difficulty processing the implications.
The realization his dad was bi hit just about the time Bastien jumped up exclaiming. “I call dibs!”",
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