Chapter 7

Ebenezer woke up feeling a bit groggier than he usually did. His body ached, but in a sweet way, the best way. The kind of way that reminded him he’d been well-fucked the night before.

Well-fucked didn’t even begin to describe it. Didn’t come close! What Gorg did to him, what Gorg made him feel…there were no words.

He smiled as he rolled over, fully expecting to see Gorg asleep next to him, but the side of the bed was empty. He got up, pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, and went in search of Gorg.

Gorg was in the kitchen, his head stuck in the refrigerator.

Literally stuck. He’d somehow managed to wedge his head between two shelves and couldn’t pull it out again.

“Gorg! What did you do, dude?” Ebenezer tried not to laugh but failed.

“I was searching for something that looked even vaguely familiar that I could use to make you breakfast,” Gorg said. “I thought I saw something but when I pushed my head in to see, it got stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just reach in with your hand to grab it?”

“I thought it was a faffenugaer. They bite. I didn’t want to grab it with my bare hand and I don’t know where you keep your faffenugaer tongs.”

Ebenezer shook his head. He reached in and started unloading the top shelf of the fridge so he could remove it and free Gorg. “I don’t know what a faffenugaer is, nor do I have tongs made specifically for it. For future reference, none of the food in my fridge bites.”

“Good to know.”

He wiggled the shelf free, and Gorg pulled his head out, rubbing his ears.

“I thought your refrigerator was trying to eat me.” Gorg shot the fridge a dirty look.

“It wasn’t. It’s a machine.”

“I was making a funny.”

“You mean a joke? You were joking.”

Gorg nodded, and Ebenezer laughed. “Okay, you got me. Instead of cooking, how about we go out for breakfast? I have the strongest hankering for blueberry pancakes.”

Gorg gave him an odd look. “Yes, pancakes. They are good?”

“You’ll love ‘em. Let’s get dressed. You’ll have to wear the overcoat again, though.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Hey,” Ebenezer said. He put his hand on Gorg’s arm and leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Thanks for last night. It was fucking amazing.”

Gorg smiled then, his dimples deepening. “I am glad you enjoyed it. I worried that you wouldn’t because we are different species.”

“It was fantastic, and if you’re a good boy and eat all your pancakes, maybe we’ll do it again later.”

Gorg sighed. “We can, but there will be no knotting. That only happens the first time.”

“Oh. You mean that weirdly wonderful feeling when you were inside me? How come?”

“It’s the way our species is built.”

Ebenezer nodded. That was kind of sucky, because he’d really enjoyed being so connected to another living being, but hey…que sera, sera. He’d still take sex with Gorg and those tentacles any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

***

Breakfast was at the local IHOP, blueberry pancakes topped with lots of powdered sugar, fresh blueberries, and blueberry syrup. It was weird — usually, Ebenezer didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and carbs were almost always off the menu, but this morning he couldn’t get enough of the stuff. He was tempted to drink the blueberry syrup straight out of the little pitcher.

After breakfast, they were on their way to the car when someone called out his name.

“Ebenezer! Hey! Ebenezer Splooge! Don’t you fucking walk away from me.”

Ebenezer turned and glanced in the direction the angry voice was coming from. “Allen? What do you want?”

Allen, the director from the last film he’d been making, stalked up to them. “What do I want ? You walked off the set and I had to replace you with the fucking fluffer! You have a contract, my friend, and you’re in breach of it.”

“I had a damn good reason for walking off the set. You hired another no-talent straight boy because of some gay-for-you fantasy you have.”

“Gerald is bi. He told me so.”

“Tell that to Gerald’s dick. It seems to have missed the memo. I saw that you replaced him with the cameraman.”

“I didn’t have a choice. We were on a tight shooting schedule, man! It was hard enough getting anybody to work with you anymore. You knew that, but somebody chose to have a hissy fit and walk off anyway. Who was that again? Oh, yeah. You.”

“I did not throw a hissy fit. And everybody loves me. I am a consummate professional. Look, I’m done with your company, Allen. You constantly cut corners to save money and expect me to pick up the slack.”

“And you never think about what happens to those around you! The movie shut down because the star — you — walked off. Melanie lost her job, and without a paycheck, she’s going to have a helluva time feeding her kids. Pete started drinking again, and I don’t have to remind you that he was three years on the wagon. Harry—”

“Stop with the sob stories. I’ll have my attorney call you.”

“Good fucking luck with that! Like I said, you’re in breach of contract. I’ll be suing you, my friend.”

“Is this person upsetting you?” Gorg asked. He stepped in between Ebenezer and Allen. “I do not wish you to be upset. It is not good for you.”

“What is he, a china doll? Afraid he’s gonna shatter? He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself,” Allen said.

Gorg turned on Allen, and for a minute Ebenezer was afraid Gorg would shrug off the overcoat and beat Allen senseless with both arms and all eight tentacles. Instead, Gorg got up in Allen’s business and growled at him.

“Go away. Now. Or you will be very, very sorry.”

“Oh, great. Now your boyfriend’s going to make threats to me? I’ll sue his ass, too!” Allen spat. But he backed up.

“Come on, Gorg. Let’s go.” He led Gorg back to the Jeep, got in, and started the engine.

When they pulled out into the street, Ebenezer didn’t give Allen a backward glance.

As far as he was concerned, that part of his life was over. He couldn’t imagine himself fucking other men on camera anymore. He had more important things to worry about now.

For the life of him, though, he couldn’t figure out what those things were.

***

“Did you really do all those things Allen said you did?” Gorg asked.

“Pull a hissy fit? No. I just… Well, I walked off the set. It was his fault. And he’s a liar. Everyone loved working with me.”

Gorg gave him an odd look. “I think perhaps you are misremembering things. Allen seemed very upset with you. I don’t like to think you aren’t concerned with the lives of your fellow human beings.”

“It happened just the way I said it did. Maybe. I mean, it could be I was a little angry. With good reason, mind you! I am a professional, but he just pushed me too hard.”

“Is it because you hate the holidays? Besides the memories you have from your childhood. The movies you made – you said they were all holiday movies. Is that what made you so angry?”

“No! Maybe…come on. I just lost my temper that one time…”

Gorg took out the handheld time-shift processor and extended the antennae.

“Oh, hell no! We’re not going back into my past again!”

“Not the past this time, Ebbie. I think you need to see how your actions affect others. It will make you a better parent.”

“Parent? What are you talking about?”

But before Gorg answered, the gray mist covered them, and the world spun away.

When the mist cleared, they were in a bar. It was a seedy place, smelling of strong spirits and mold, and body odor. Only one man sat at the bar, hunched over, a half-full glass of beer in front of him.

Ebenezer turned pale and walked up to the man. “Pete? Oh, man, no. Pete, you were doing so good! Three years sober… What happened?”

“Ebbie? What are you doin’ here?” The man looked up at Ebenezer with bleary eyes. “You fucker. You think you’re all high and mighty because you’re the star and all I did was hold the fuckin’ camera, but without me, you would be nothin’! Nothin’!”

“I-I’m sorry I walked off the set, Pete. Stop it now. Come on. Let me buy you a cup of coffee. We can call your sponsor and—”

“Oh, fuck off! I don’t have a job because of you. They tried to swap me in for that asshole, Gerald, and use the fluffer but it wasn’t the same. The producers wanted you , Ebbie, and you were gone. They shut us down. No job, no money for rent. Just…just leave me alone. Go on! Get out!”

He’d never heard Pete sound so venomous, so full of hate. Maybe he deserved it, too. He frowned and backed up to where Gorg stood. “Get me out of here, Gorg. I…oh, God, what have I done? Who else did I hurt? I can’t even make amends because he won’t let me help him!” Tears threatened. “I’ve been such a dick!”

“I can help him if you wish,” Gorg said. He cupped Ebenezer’s face with his hand. “Do not weep. We all do things we regret. What is important is that you learn from your mistakes.”

“You can help Pete? How?”

“Addiction is a universal problem. We have ways to circumvent it. To correct the part of us that craves that to which we are addicted.”

Gorg walked over and placed his hand on the back of Pete’s neck. Pete tried to shake him off, but then Pete froze. The expression on his face was one of pure ecstasy. Then it was gone.

Pete looked at the half-finished glass in front of him and disgust colored his face. He pushed it away and got up.

He tossed Gorg a half-smile then hurried out of the bar, brushing past Ebenezer as if he didn’t recognize him.

“What did you do?”

“Got rid of his addiction. He will be okay now.”

“That’s amazing!” Ebenezer gave him a broad smile.

“He still was in here because of you, Ebbie. What have you learned?” Gorg asked.

“Seriously? Who are you? My mother?”

“I am serious. It is important, Ebbie. Very important.”

The expression on Gorg’s face was grave, and it frightened Ebbie a little. He didn’t want to lose Gorg, not that he wanted to examine the reason why too closely. It’s not like he was in love with a guy from another planet. It was just the sex, that’s all. Right? And yet…

“I learned that my actions have consequences for other people, not just myself. I have a responsibility to the people I work with and have to think about others not just myself.”

Gorg nodded, and a smile once again graced his handsome face. “Excellent. Now, let’s go home. I think you have to talk to someone called your attorney.”

Ebenezer huffed and nodded. “Allan was right. I am in breach of contract. I’m going to have to buy my way out of it, and it’s not going to be cheap. I’ll need to call Roger Atkins. He’s my attorney. But you know what? I don’t want to do adult films anymore. Something in me has changed.”

“Yes, we’ll have to have a talk about that, too,” Gorg said, then pulled out the handheld time-shift processor and pressed the button.