Slash Me Twice

Sphinx

“Give it up! “ I try again, lunging at him. “Ouch…” The air is knocked from my lungs as I manage to land somewhere that is neither floor nor sofa. It feels as though that damned armrest Sean is so fond of tried to pierce my stomach.
Sean’s laughing at me. Loudly.

I try to look indignant and hurt but the only thing I achieve is to have Sean doubled over in hysterics instead of picking me up and kissing me better. Damn. And he’s still got the remote control. I glare at his hands.

“Please give it to me or switch channels?” I plead, not exactly gracefully picking myself up from my somewhat half-sitting position. “It does hurt, you know.”

“No Viggo.” Sean’s suddenly completely serious. “I want to watch it.” He points at the TV and gives me a glare. “It’s interesting.”

“It’s about a bunch of long-dead guys and their long-dead customs.”

“It’s interesting.” He insists, his lower lip doing something that looks suspiciously like a pout. Not that I’d say that out loud. I still value my life.

“But it’s the Discovery Channel!” I whine, pouting right back at the dictator of TV-land.

“I like the Discovery Channel and it’s been ages since I last had the time to actually watch it.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the American!” Oh damn. That came out before I thought about what I was saying. My body cringes. Sean’s giving me the look again. The look that always makes me want to turn back time and take back whatever I said or did. This time he even completes it with the whole eyebrows-arched-just-like-Hugo’s look.

“Are you saying that I can’t like the Discovery Channel because I’m British?”

Uh oh. He’s stalking towards me now, his eyes telling me that I’d better run fast. Or find a way to placate him unless I want to spend the next week sleeping on the couch. Or worse.
“Of course not.” I try to soothe him, taking a slow step backwards and giving him a hopeful smile. There’s only one way to deal with Sean in this mood. No sudden movements, speak in a calm, non-threatening voice and make regular offerings of food, drink and sex. And of course it also helps to let him have his way. Which is usually quite enjoyable. As long as he isn’t set on the Discovery Channel.

“It’s just strange. I never knew you were interested in Egyptian history.” I point at the TV, where some rather clueless guy is gushing on about the mystery of the pyramids.

“So glad I can still surprise you,” he quips, his gaze softening ever so slightly. I let go of a breath I hadn’t noticed I had been holding.

“Are you going to behave?” He asks, towering over me. He still keeps the remote safe behind his back, though. Bastard.

“Do I get a treat if I’m good?” I cock my head at him, giving him a lewd grin. “Because I can be very good… if given the right incentive…”

There his eyebrow goes again. I taste blood as I bite my lip, force myself to stay serious. Oh damn. His grin goes straight to my groin. Strike! The sex-offering technique worked! My breath hitches and my sense of smell drowns in Sean as his index finger travels over my lip. My tongue immediately follows the digit, trying to suck it in.

“I think I might be able to come up with something for you.” He practically purrs, turning on the spot and striding through the door. Okay…. I blink at his back. Somehow that is not how I imagined this situation to end.

“Come get your treat!” Sean challenges me, his arms crossed in front of his chest, obviously hiding something from me.

The way he keeps on smiling at me as I stalk over to him is somewhat unsettling, but I’m sure that whatever he has in store for me will be pleasurable. I know he’s saying something else but my mind is sidetracked by the fact that he has taken his shirt off. Yummy. Positively edible.

“Here,” he says, thrusting something cool and glassy into my hands. “Wrap your mouth around that and let me watch TV in peace.”

I somehow manage to draw my gaze from his naked chest and bared nipples and down to my hands.
“Pale Sierra Nevada Amber Ale?” I squeak. “But…”

“I know what you were trying to do.” Sean growls, smacking me with the remote control. “This is your favourite beer and it was more than difficult to get it. Now sit down and be good.”

I blink helplessly at him as he settles down on the sofa, head propped up on the armrest that tried to kill me and legs stretched out beside him. Grumbling I manage to force myself onto the sofa between his feet and the armrest. He doesn’t even look at me. I can see him smile though, as he draws his feet back, giving me some space for a few seconds. And I mean seconds, because that’s all the time he needs to safely deposit his feet in my lap. Completely with strange red-brownish or something socks. I frown down at them. At least they aren’t smelly.

Sean’s completely engrossed in whatever the guy on the telly is yammering on about. Something about embalming techniques. Great. He really seems to be intent on ignoring me for the rest of the evening. With a sigh I trail my fingers over his feet, hoping to elicit some sort of response from him. Damn. No tickle-war then.
Sean rarely gets this absorbed with a TV program but when he does there’s no getting him out of it. He keeps on ignoring me as I slowly take off his socks, touching every inch of skin I reveal. I like his feet. They look big without shoes, but somehow bare feet make him look domestic and vulnerable. I grin at his big toe, gently tugging at it before starting my massage. Another thing I’m not going to tell him.

I pause to take a swig from my beer, resigning myself to be the man at Sean’s feet while he spends the evening with long-dead Egyptians.
“You know,” Sean says suddenly, “The ancient Egyptians were probably all either gay or hermaphrodites.”

“What?” I gasp between coughs, trying to get some air while I stare at Sean. I think he may just have grown another head. He seems about as sane as Zaphod anyway at the moment. At least if I really heard what I think I heard.

“Fuck!” Sean jumps up, glaring at me. “Did you have to spit your fucking beer all over me? Do you have any idea how much that stuff costs? The sofa’s going to stink!”

“I’m sorry…” I trail off, giving him my most apologetic smile as I try to clean up the spilt beer with his socks. His feet are extremely sticky, I notice suddenly. How strange is it to think that while kneeling at his feet anyway? Maybe I could give Zaphod a run for his money, too.

“You’re ruining my socks.” Sean points out, stepping away from me. “The next batch of laundry is yours.”

“Okay.” I sigh, getting back up. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know.” He sits back down, staying clear of the side of the sofa where I had been sitting.

“You almost gave me a heart-attack!” I complain, sitting back down and pulling his sticky feet back into my lap. The smell of beer wafts up at me. “I almost choked on my beer!”

Oh great. I have inspired another eyebrow rising. “By stating that the ancient Egyptians were either gay or hermaphrodites?”

“Yes!”

“But don’t you see it?”

“See what?” I ask, my gaze following his fingers, which are pointing at the TV in accusation.” “All I see is a lot of sand. And that Sphinx thing.”

“Exactly!” He has picked up my empty beer bottle and is waving it empathically at the screen, his eyes glowing as he almost bounces up and down with excitement. Poor sofa. First the beer and now Sean in his I’m-going-to-make-a-very-important-point mode.
“The Sphinx is the ultimate proof!”

“Of the Egyptians being gay or hermaphrodites?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeats incredulously. “Because it almost looks like a griffon, that’s why.”

“Sean?” I ask cautiously, carefully and slowly taking the beer bottle from his hands.

“Yes?” He is all wide-eyed innocence as he blinks at me. “What?”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Haven’t you ever looked at a griffon? Some mythology books depict them with breasts!”

“I know Sean. And I know that some people insist that the Sphinx is female. And so are some griffons.”

“They aren’t!” He protests hotly, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “The breasts are attached to a lion’s body and they’ve also got wings!”

“So?” Sean’s really lost me now. I don’t know how his mind got to where it is right now and I don’t think I want to know, either. This can’t probably get any more bizarre. It’s like the idea of PJ in a tight, purple dress.

“The lion has always been a symbol of masculinity and protection,” Sean says slowly, as though speaking to a very dense child, “And have I mentioned the wings?” He’s really bouncing now. “Wings symbolize the eagle and the eagle is the animal of the sun god Ra, the highest god of Egypt. Male sun god.” He adds after a while. “Griffon’s are the ultimate blending of every male and female thing! It’s the ultimate joining of Yin and Yang!”

“Yin and Yang?” I echo dumbly. “Where did the Asians come into this?”

“They didn’t.” He sighs exasperatedly, raking his fingers through his hair. “I was only using an example so you could understand better.”

“That the blending of male and female symbols in the griffons proves that the Egyptians were gay or hermaphrodites?”

“Yes.” He even smiles at me. Damn. He probably thinks I got it.

“But the Egyptians didn’t have griffons.” I object, knowing that even if I were to steer him to another subject he would simply continue this discussion later, when I expect it the least.

“The Sphinx is a griffon.” He insists, his voice slowly losing its patience.

“But the Sphinx has neither breasts nor wings.”

“It’s still exactly like a griffon.”

“Except for the missing bits.”

He scowls at me, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“”And the fact that the Sphinx is a griffon without the griffon bits proves that the ancient Egyptians were gay.”

“Or hermaphrodites, yes.” His lower lip is sticking out in a half-pout again.

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Of course I am,” he agrees, giving me a lop-sided grin. “I’m in love with you, how could I possibly be sane?”

I can’t help grinning in return. This is exactly the kind of insult I like to hear from him.
“In that case….” I lean over, straddling his thighs, “How about moving this to the bedroom and letting me go… Egyptian on your ass?”

“I think,” he says, licking his lips, “That I like the way you think.”


Finis