BHM Hays Code (BHM, Stuffing, WG)

Discussion in 'Recent Additions' started by Shh! Don’t tell!, Aug 26, 2018.

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  1. Aug 26, 2018 #1

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

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    BHM, Stuffing. Isaiah Resnik and Liam McAllister try to survive awards season. A sequel to Big Shot.

    Hays Code

    By Shh! Don’t tell!

    -Part 1 can be found here:https://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/threads/big-shot-bhm-wg-stuffing.125763/

    ——
    1.

    So, you have an anger management problem. You might even be starting to become angry reading this pamphlet.

    Ugh, thought Isaiah, tossing aside the self help pamphlet he’d descreetly picked up the previous day. What a load of crap. He sat for a moment, arms crossed over his chest, before remembering all the times he’d exploded at people he actually liked for no good reason. He picked up the patronizing pamphlet again and flipped through it, looking for something helpful.

    Often, excessive anger can disguise other emotions, like sadness or fear. When you feel angry, ask yourself-what am I really feeling?

    Oof. That was a little much to deal with.

    “Garbage,” mumbled Isaiah as he got up to go meet Liam at Columbia.



    “So,” said Liam, pacing the front of his lecture hall. “Does anyone have any questions about the role of seduction in the narrative?”


    “I have a question,” someone yelled from the back of the room. “When are you going to let these kids go enjoy their Friday afternoon?”


    Liam crossed his arms, grinning. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t believe you’re enrolled here.”


    Students chuckled. A few turned to stare at Isaiah, who was leaning against the doorway.


    “Is that...” Someone whispered.


    “We are actually out of time,” Liam conceded, glancing at the clock. “Alright. See you all next week.”


    The students filed out.


    “You know,” said Liam, as Isaiah walked down the stairs towards him. “You can’t keep interrupting my classes.”


    Isaiah smiled mischievously. “Sorry,” he said, not looking entirely sorry. “God, you make one hot professor. All these college kids must be drooling over you.”


    “No, they’re not.”


    “Sure,” said Isaiah. “They’re not attracted to the young, tall, hot, incredibly successful guy teaching their creative writing class. Get real. Half the class wants to bang you.”

    “You’re projecting. How was your day?” Liam asked as they walked out into the snowy campus.


    “It was good. I did some reading.” Isaiah brushed his sleek dark hair out of his face. It was getting long and looked fantastically thick. “I did some photography out our window. People walking outside in the snow. I’m trying not to be too nervous about tomorrow.”

    Tomorrow was the day that the Oscar nominees would be announced and Isaiah had been jittery over it for days on end. Liam had woken up in the middle of the night earlier that week to find him staring out the window like a moody byronic hero. Poor silly, sweet, dramatic, man.


    “Don’t be nervous,” Liam said. “Everything will be fine.”


    “You’ve never lived through an award season before. It can get really ugly. You’ll understand, soon.”


    “Uh-huh,” said Liam, covertly scooping up a handful of snow and pressing it into a snowball.


    “It’s war. People get-hey!” Liam had thrown his snowball. It hit Isaiah in his belly, which was an unfairly large target. “You asshole!” Isaiah scooped up a loose handful of snow and flung it at Liam, who laughed and ran. “I’ll get you for that. When you least expect it!”


    “Oh, I’m terrified.”


    The pair made their way to the diner near campus, where they had been eating dinner after Liam’s classes. Isaiah announced that he was starving because he’d only had a roast beef sandwich and chips for lunch and nothing since then.


    “Can’t have that,” Liam growled, giving Isaiah’s gut a casual slap. It felt heavy and solid, not particularly empty, but not at full capacity. “Let’s get you some food.”


    Isaiah got a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a side of onion rings. Liam got a modest sandwich with fries and added another side of loaded potato skins for Isaiah. He watched with pleasure as Isaiah chowed down. His weight gain had slowed significantly over the past month, but he was still overeating and slowly but surely getting fatter. As Liam watched, Isaiah finished off the onion rings, after having already demolished the burger and fries. He stifled a belch and wiped his greasy lips with a napkin.


    “I’m full,” he remarked, as he moved on to the potato skins. He winked at Liam. Flirty bastard.


    “Will you come to the anthropology exhibit at the campus museum?” Liam asked. It had come to Liam’s attention that his director-roommate-boyfriend was not particularly well-educated, so he’d taken it upon himself to bring him to museums and send him to lectures. Isaiah, who’d hated school as a child and teenager, actually enjoyed learning without the pressure of schoolwork or the distraction of the bad things, that Liam knew existed but did not dare probe into, that had plagued his childhood. “My old adviser helped organize it and it’ll probably help distract you from the nominations.”


    Isaiah nodded, his mouth full of potatoes. After he finished his dinner, some of Liam’s fries and a slice of apple pie a la mode, they trudged back across campus to the museum.


    “Weird!” said Isaiah, looking at an ancient figurine with spike-like nipples. “Where’s this from?”


    “West Africa,” said a grey haired man. “Hello, Liam!”


    “Hi, Jack!” said Liam enthusiastically. “Isaiah, this is Jack Leary. He was my adviser when I was an undergrad.”


    “Hello, Isaiah,” said Leary. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


    Isaiah shook Leary’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”


    “Some movie you two put out,” Leary said. “It’s just like Liam to get really successful, then come back and teach anyway.”


    “He’s so modest,” agreed Isaiah.


    “Stop it,” said Liam, blushing furiously.


    “What’s that over there?” Isaiah asked, pointing to a wall of photos.


    “Oh, that’s female body modification rituals in a variety of cultures. Here’s a Padung woman with an elongated neck-they do it to protect themselves from enslavement. And this one is quite abusive and grostesque- force-feeding for male sexual pleasure-“


    “What?” said Isaiah, his eyes going as wide as saucers as he took in the images of several obese young women.


    “In certain parts of Africa. Here’s a woman from Morocco. And here’s a Tunisian woman.”


    “Huh,” said Isaiah. “Huh.” Liam nudged him in the side.


    “Well,” said Liam, later, as they walked into the apartment. “That was enlightening.”


    “It was!” Isaiah took off his puffy winter coat revealing his puffy fat body underneath it. “There’s a whole world of perverts like us out there. I wonder how many other men like getting fat and not just watching women get fat.” He turned to Liam. “Do you like fat women, too?”


    “Um. Yes. Sometimes. I prefer fat men.”


    “Interesting,” said Isaiah. He flopped down on the bed. “Ugh. I’m still nervous about the nominations.” Liam walked over and sat down next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his belly. It was tight, round, packed with food. “Mmm,” Isaiah sighed. “Oh. That’s nice.”


    “The nominations will be fine,” Liam soothed. “It’ll be fine.” He freed Isaiah’s cock from his pants, marveling at the way his belly looked mountainous from below and how the little pillow of fat above his shaft had gotten just a little larger since their first time. “Mm. Look at you. Getting so big and round.”

    “I’d probably be popular in Turkey. Or what was it? It wasn’t Turkey. Micronesia? Oh, yes, baby, just like that.” Liam rubbed Isaiah’s belly worshipfully as he sucked his cock.



    Isaiah woke up at four in the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. He tossed and turned. He paced. He brushed his teeth. At six, he made himself tea. At seven, he put some coffee on for Liam and made some toast, slathering on massive quantities of butter. Shortly after that, he gently shook Liam, who looked incredibly beautiful in sleep, awake.


    “Psst,” Isaiah whispered. “Liam. The broadcast starts soon. Get up. I made you coffee.”


    Liam dragged himself out of bed and joined Isaiah in front of the television. The announcer was beginning, listing names, so many names. For a long time, they waited through the endless listings of celebrities and unknown strangers.


    “Jack Simmons,” the announcer said, and Liam sat up straight. Isaiah nodded, sipping tea.


    “Evelyn Weiss,” she said.


    “Evelyn!” Liam said. Isaiah grinned like an idiot.


    “Liam McAllister,” she said and Isaiah all but tackled him, knocking him over on the couch.


    She listed directors off. “Fredrick De Luca. Sam Rosenthal. Isaiah Resnik.”


    Liam whooped and pulled Isaiah close.


    “Call your mom,” Isaiah whispered. “Go do it.”


    “Yes,” said Liam. “I will.”


    “Jesus.” Isaiah shook his head. “It’s fucking awards season.”
     
    Last edited: Aug 26, 2018
  2. Aug 26, 2018 #2

    loopytheone

    loopytheone

    loopytheone

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    Yaaaaaay!!! =D
     
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  3. Aug 26, 2018 #3

    Starling

    Starling

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    Oh, I am so excited for this one!
     
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  4. Aug 26, 2018 #4

    Chubhandles

    Chubhandles

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    Aaaaaaa!!! Sequel!!!! :D
     
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  5. Aug 26, 2018 #5

    Clandy Caine

    Clandy Caine

    Clandy Caine

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    Best surprise ever! Although I had my fingers crossed I was not expecting you to start the sequel so soon, but I’m so glad you did! Great first chapter!
     
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  6. Aug 26, 2018 #6

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

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    This will probably be updated in a really sporadic fashion.
     
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  7. Aug 26, 2018 #7

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

    Xyantha Reborn

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    I love you so much right now!
     
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  8. Aug 28, 2018 #8

    fat hiker

    fat hiker

    fat hiker

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    This story is off to a great start!
     
  9. Feb 6, 2019 #9

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

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    2.

    “You goddamn brilliant bastard,” Isaiah gave Liam a rough kiss on the lips. “If you don’t win then those assholes at the academy really have no clue what they’re doing. You’re-“


    The phone was ringing.


    “-Isaiah, the phone.”


    “Got it!” Isaiah disentangled himself from Liam and walked over to the ringing landline. “Hello?”


    “Resnik?” said Zach Berger’s thick New York twang. “Isn’t this McAllister’s line?”


    “Berger! Good morning! How are you on this beautiful January day?”


    “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days! Have you been in New York this whole time?”


    “Yup.”


    “Well, as long as you’re here, I can talk to you both at once. Get McAllister over here and put me on speakerphone.”


    “Okay. Hey, Liam, it’s,” Isaiah waggled his eyebrows. “The studio, so keep it professional.”


    “You both there?”


    “You’ve got us both,” said Liam as he came up to the phone.


    “McAllister, do you need help removing this man from your home?”


    “No, he can stay.” Liam reached an arm around Isaiah and gave his flank a gentle stroke. Soft, cushy, and warm.


    There was crinkling of papers, as though Berger was shifting things around on his desk. “Since you’re both in town, both of you should come to a meeting we’re having at the studio. Tuesday at Eleven. We’re discussing how things will precede these next few months, and how we expect you to behave as nominees. A lot of this is going to be an image game. Resnik, that pertains to you, in particular-“


    The other phone rang on the other side of the house.


    “I’ll get it,” said Isaiah, eager to get away from Berger’s lecture.


    “No,” said Berger. “I’m not done talking to you.”


    “I’ll get it,” said Liam, walking over to the other phone. “Have fun-“


    “Screw you!” Isaiah mouthed after him.


    Liam picked up the other line. “Hello?” He said.


    “Hi Liam,” said Evelyn,


    “Hi, Ev! Congratulations!”


    “You as well! You as well. Do you know where I could get a hold of Isaiah?”


    “He’s here with me, actually.”


    “Like right there?”


    Liam looked up across the room at Isaiah, who was gesturing aggressively as he spoke on the phone, even though Berger couldn’t see him doing it. “He’s on the other side of the room, arguing with Zach Berger over the phone.”


    Liam could hear Evelyn’s smile in her voice. “That seems about right. Liam, um-do you, um-What part of New York do you live in, again?”


    “Midtown.”


    “I see. What do you think about the West Village? Do you have-” she struggled for a moment. “An opinion on it?”


    Was she asking if she was gay? She was! She was! Jesus Christ. “Not particularly,” Liam said, evading the question underlying her question. “I don’t go down there in my day to day, so I don’t have much to base an opinion on.” Sorry Ev, Liam thought. You’ll just have to keep wondering.


    “I know you were raised catholic,” Evelyn continued, not letting the issue go. “Do you think the clubs down there are-“ She fumbled for words, seeming frustrated. “Morally wrong?”


    “No,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I don’t think the clubs are morally wrong. I don’t like to judge people that way.” God, what a shitty cop-out answer. If only he’d been able to concoct something witty and clever that communicated how he felt without outing himself. It would be so much easier, he thought, just to answer her directly, answer her real question. Lying was hard. This whole phone call had left him feeling tense.


    “Is that Evelyn?” Isaiah bellowed as he came over to join Liam’s phone call. “Ev, I knew you could do it. You’re a fucking star. How’s L.A?”


    “Sunny.”


    “No kidding.”




    “What are you doing?”


    “What, this?” Liam looked up at Isaiah who was blinking blindly down at Liam’s penis. “Just washing.”


    “Do you pull it back every time you take a shower?”


    “Every time. I have to to keep it clean.”


    “Let me try.” Isaiah reached down and gently pushed back Liam’s foreskin, seeming genuinely curious about his hygiene habits. Liam laughed quietly .

    Taking showers together was fun-he loved watching Isaiah wobble around under the hot water, lather himself up with soap until he was slick as a seal, heft his heavy belly with one arm so he could clean the underside with a wash cloth. It was endlessly entertaining.


    “I want to have a big eating day today,” Isaiah murmured. “I feel like kind of a big deal, and like I’ve earned a big eating day. I already had breakfast, I had toast, but I want to go out to the diner after this. I’m in the mood for pancakes. With lots of bacon. I’m in one of those moods where I want to get absolutely enormous, you know? I keep imagining my belly sticking out to-“ he stuck his hand about a foot away from the crest of his gut. “Here. I had this incredible fantasy this morning. I had a fantasy about walking into that meeting on Tuesday with Berger so full I could barely move. Can you imagine that? He’d be yapping away about awards show this and public appearances that and I’d just wheeze and burp and waddle very slowly towards the brunch spread-“

    It was a little difficult to grab Isaiah with all that slippery soap covering his body, but Liam managed it.
     
  10. Feb 6, 2019 #10

    Starling

    Starling

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    Yesss I’ve been hoping for an update to this
     
  11. Feb 6, 2019 #11

    loopytheone

    loopytheone

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    Hooray for more of this story! =D
     
  12. Feb 6, 2019 #12

    Clandy Caine

    Clandy Caine

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    Yeah!!!!! I can’t wait for more!
     
  13. Feb 9, 2019 #13

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

    Shh! Don’t tell!

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    3.

    “I’m hungry,” Isaiah muttered, by accident, under his breath. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud-it had slipped out from between his lips and he wished he could force it back inside, because now his father was glaring across the room at him. His mother was at work and he had been trying to avoid attracting attention, making up a story in his head in the corner of the room, but now he’d gotten careless and said something and now his father was staring at him with a white-hot hatred.


    “What did you say?”


    “Nothing. Nothing.”


    “No, you said something! What did you say?”


    “Nothing!”


    “You little bastard, don’t you lie to me! You did say something!”


    “No-“


    “You said you were hungry. How could you be hungry? You ate this morning!” A carefully measured portion of cereal that had left him feeling hungrier then before. His mother hadn’t eaten anything, she’d skipped breakfast before work to stretch out the box for him and his father, but it just wasn’t enough, not enough to fill the aching hunger from an insufficient dinner of only soup and a sandwich the night before. The checks from his mothers job came biweekly and they were halfway into the second week. Just a few days to go and then there’d be a big dinner. He wished he could curl up and sleep until the next check came in and the food was hot and ready.


    “You don’t even know what real hunger is,” his father continued. “When I was your age, my whole family was starving. We went to our neighbors to ask for food, and they were starving too.”


    Isaiah had heard this story nearly word for word before and didn’t want to hear it again, but there was no way to stop it. His father continued.


    “Nobody had any food. There was nothing! Absolutely nothing! We just kept walking on and on and no matter where we went, no one had any food. We walked through a village and we thought the people there might attack us, but they were sick and weak because they were starving too- they left us alone because they could see we didn’t have any food. Don’t cover your ears! Put your hands down!”


    Isaiah’s father advanced towards him, and knelt down almost on top of him. He pulled Isaiah’s hands from his ears and pinned them to the floor, putting his weight on them.


    “You got the nerve to cover your ears while I’m talking to you?”


    “I’m sorry-I’m sorry-“


    “Never do that again-“


    “I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry-“ Please stop crushing my hands, please stop, please stop.


    “In this village they had piled up the bodies, instead of burying them. They weren’t like us. They were like animals. They didn’t even take the time to bury their dead and they were standing near the pile and circling it like hungry dogs. They were so hungry that the bodies looked like meat to them-they were staring and drooling-and I watched you eat cereal and milk for breakfast and now you say you’re hungry? You aren’t hungry. You’re ungrateful-“


    “Tatty, I’m sorry-I’m sorry-“ The pain and terror was making Isaiah hyperventilate. Red fireworks and dancing purple lights flashed before his eyes.


    “You’re ungrateful!”


    Oh god, just make it go away. Get me out of here. I’m not here. This isn’t really happening. I’m somewhere else. I’m someone else. Please, enough, no more.


    “I’ll teach you a lesson-“


    Isaiah opened his eyes, certain that he was about to be struck. Instead, he found himself staring at Liam’s worried, wide eyed face, lit up by city lights pouring in through the window.


    “Are you okay?” Liam asked, his voice croaky and tired. It was late at night. “You were moving around in your sleep a lot.”


    “I’m sorry,” Isaiah said. I’m here, not there. I’m here. “I woke you up-“


    “Don’t worry about that. Are you okay?”


    His heart was racing fast and hard. It had been so vividly real that he was looking around the room for something to hide under, some way to shield himself.


    “Isaiah?” Liam asked. “Hey, look at me.”

    Liam reached out to touch Isaiah’s hand, but the touch was like an electric shock and Isaiah twitched and pulled away when Liam touched him. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”


    Isaiah touched his stomach, and looked down, surprised by how large it was. My god, I’ve changed my body a lot. It looks nothing like it did when I was young. He rested a hand there as a sensory reminder of where and when he was. “I had a bad dream,” he said. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a pussy for being scared of a bad dream.”


    “No, it’s okay. I get scared all the time. If I touch you now, will you jump again?”


    Isaiah shook his head. “No.”


    Liam gently touched Isaiah’s chest. “Your heart’s pounding. What’s scaring you? Is it the Oscars?”


    Isaiah shook his head. “No.”


    “Is it nuclear war?”


    “Jesus Christ, well now it is.” Isaiah rolled over. “What time is it?”

    “It’s four o clock. Not so early.”


    “Can I have a sandwich?”


    Liam snorted. “Yeah, you can have a sandwich. Want me to make you one?”


    Isaiah nodded.


    Liam made him a couple of greasy grilled cheese sandwiches and watched him eat them at the kitchen table. Snow was falling outside. It was Monday.


    “You wake up a lot at night,” Liam said.


    “Yeah?”


    “Yeah. Sometimes I’ll wake up and see that you’re out of bed.”


    “Sorry. I don’t mean to wake you up.”


    “No, it’s okay. Do you have nightmares often?”


    Isaiah took a massive bite of grilled cheese and found himself unable to swallow it. He chewed vigorously. “No,” he said, after managing to swallow. “Not so often. Usually I’ll just wake up feeling nervous and have trouble falling back asleep.”


    “Maybe I could read to you, if you can’t sleep. You know, I’m really not supposed to share these, but some of my students write really bad stories for the assignments. Like, really terrible. Do you want to help me figure out what to write for feedback?”





    “Augustina flipped her long blonde hair. Her breasts were huge and perky. “I’m so sick of all these little boys,” she said. “I want a real man, like you.” I took her aside. “You know I can’t,” I said. “I have to focus on my work.””


    “Jeeeezzzus,” Isaiah moaned through a mouthful of potato chips. “Just fail him. Kick him out. Kick him out of school.”


    “No, I have to give him feedback and help him grow as a writer.” Liam flipped through the rest of the ten page long story. “I won’t bore you with the rest of this. It’s all more of the same. There’s also one about a vampire that’s just-an erotic version of Dracula, basically. Or, a more erotic version, the original is already pretty charged.” Liam looked up at him. “What’s that look you’re giving me?”


    “Nothing,” said Isaiah in a fake Transylvanian accent.


    “Jesus. Stop that.”


    “Vhy? Zis is how ve speak, in ze old country-“


    “That’s not even at all Transylvanian anymore,” Liam protested. “It’s closer to German.”


    “I did not think zis accent through. I am trying my best.” Isaiah got onto all fours and began to crawl towards Liam, slowly, grinning deviously, all dark eyes and plump lips. His swollen belly and fuzzy body hair ruined the vampiric impression somewhat. “I’m hungry-I must feed on the blood of the living-“


    “Shush and eat your potato chips, Count.”


    “I vant to suck your blood, Mr. McAllister-“


    The phone rang. Liam picked it up.


    “Hello?” said a woman on the other end in a thick foreign accent that Liam couldn’t completely place, but found familiar. Her voice was apologetic and nervous. “Who’s there?”


    “Who’s this?”


    “Is Isaiah there-“


    “Who is it?” Isaiah asked, draping himself over Liam to take the phone. “Hello? Hi, Mama. I know-it’s great.”


    Liam froze, listening. He’d seen Isaiah send his mother money, checks with a sprawled I.R. on the line, and talk about how much he admired her, respected her. Liam hadn’t thought of her as having a first language other then English, although in retrospect it made perfect sense.


    “Did you get the check I sent?” Isaiah asked.


    “I did, but you don’t need to send those,” Liam heard her say.


    “Well, if I don’t need to, let me because I want to.”


    “So much money...”


    “It’s nothing. Don’t think anything of it.”


    “Is New York cold?”


    “Compared to L.A.”


    “Wear a hat! You need to cover your ears!”


    “Mama...”


    There was something Liam couldn’t make out.


    “Yeah. I could. Not this week, but maybe in a few weeks. I’ll check...”


    Liam wandered out of the room and stood in the kitchen for a while as Isaiah talked to his mother. He sorted through his students stories. One, with excellent dialogue, took place in-and a shiver ran down Liam’s spine-the West Village. Why was this symbol of out-ness haunting him like a shirtless and oiled down specter? The writing really was excellent, not the sort of thing that could be popular in the mainstream , but smart and witty and fun to read. Which of his students wrote this? Liam checked. Steven Rosso. Who was that?


    Isaiah emerged from the bedroom. “Hey.” He said. “Would you want to come if I visited my mother for a long weekend?”


    “Sure,” Liam said. “Where? In Chicago?”


    “No, in Transylvania.” Isaiah advanced towards him.


    “Oh no-“ Liam laughed. “Stay back. I’ll stake you-“


    “Oh, that makes me want steak.” Isaiah leaned into Liam’s chest, breathing him in. “There’s a weird part of me that wants to actually bite you.”


    “Don’t you dare.”


    “Sorry. Yeah, in Chicago.”
     

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