The Winter Tempest (UC/Mx-Mi/Slash) Completed 05/14/07

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The Winter Tempest (UC/Mx-Mi/Slash) Completed 05/14/07

Post by suicide_eagle_rath » Thu Jan 11, 2007 2:35 am

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Title: The Winter Tempest

Author: suicide_eagle_rath

Rating: Adult

Pairings: UC/ Slash

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement intended.

Summary: A snow storm traps two lovers

Contest: Done originally for the Roswell Heaven Avant Garde Winter/Christmas UC Writing Challenge
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Tue May 15, 2007 12:11 am, edited 3 times in total.

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Post by suicide_eagle_rath » Thu Jan 11, 2007 2:37 am

The Winter Tempest
Part One of Two
That year, in those seven days, alienation arrived as a blizzard hit with abandonment as mother nature let loose her fury upon the land. Not once but twice the heavens opened up and dumped snow by the foot over Colorado. All life seem to stop that week, people turned into themselves, contemplation was good for the soul as man braced to defeat the tempest.

When the winter solstice arrived but few knew it, as the only indication was the date on a calendar, an intangible black figure for a tangible event. The skies remained overcast; the heavy nimbus clouds hung in the skies, spewing forth gales across the helpless lands.

The plows were in full force, keeping the emergency roads opened, trying to find any motorists who had been duped into traveling on the highways. The governor had declared a state of emergency, crews reported for duty leaving their families to defend for themselves. TV and radio stations warned people to stay inside, to avoid the roads at all cost. Of course the brave but fool hardly news correspondences were dispatched to tell all the home bodies a fist hand account of the blizzard. It was not like a person was unable see out their window or heard the wind to know the conditions were horrible.

Time stood still as day passed to night, the sky remained hidden by clouds so relentless in their mass and movement that they regarded human need for sun and the blue expanse as unimportant. Many people were affected that December, when the snow laid piled deep, while the thoughts and minds were reflective, when emotions were heightened, while passion reigned.

This is such a story.

The cabin was buried in the snow, wet sticky snow, locking the inhabitants inside. The scenery comprised of white crisp virgin flakes all interlocked, was breath taking from the air, on the ground it was hell. The snow had damped the sound of the earth, creating a winter play land, monochromic in scheme, comical in character, simplistic in beauty.

Michael stared out the big glass windows at the valley below, there was no change; everything was so uniformed, so invisible to the eyes. He was tired of the snow, of the trapped feeling as he prowled back and forth in front of that window. He and Max had just started up the mountain when the storm hit. By the time that had arrived at the cabin the snow was very deep, even for the four-wheel jeep. The guys grabbed their gear and headed inside just as the winds howled with tempestuous nature sealing them inside the wooden structure.

“A wolf moon.” The words cut the silence with dryness, shaking Michael out of his concentration.

“What?”

“A wolf moon. It is said such a moon brings out the wolves to howl for food.” Max came up from behind Michael, circling him until he faced him. “Sometimes man is the food.”

Michael cocked one eyebrow up as he looked at Max, before he shifted his eyes back to the whiteout. “Max you can be creepy when the mood strikes.”

“You are like a wolf pacing Michael, sit and read a book.” He reached out, a slight gesture to place his hand on Michael’s arm, but monumental in thought.

“Read?” Michael snorted out. “Did that last night and the night before.” He chuckled deep, resonating, “Screw that.”

“So it is a vacation, time to relax.”

“No Internet Max.” Michael crossed his arms in a defensive move.

“What?”

“I have no Internet!”

Max released a soft sigh, so that was the problem. He was going through Internet withdrawal. “Why is it so cold in here? I am freezing.” Max looked towards the fire, the logs had burned down and with no power it got cold quick in the cabin. “So do something else.” Max suggested as he stoked the fire and added more fuel, soon there was a raging fire almost burning his face.

“WHAT! There is no power, nothing.” Michael sneered, he hated being without his toys he had come to rely on in his life. He was completely cut off, Internet, cable, IM’s, but most of all his most prized possession was dead, his cell. Michael enjoyed multitasking, taking it to new heights. He would simultaneously busy himself with several gadgets at once, the master of communication, cutting edge technology was always on his lips or fingertips. He could breeze through phone calls, surfing, emails, chat, while al the time jacking off to a good porn movie.

“We can do lots.” Max tried once again to jostle his lover from being depressed. “Look at the world in from of you, surely the artist in you can appreciate and create drama.” It always amazed Max how Michael could see things through that artist eye of his. He could tell Michael was not looking at snow; instead he envisioned the curve of the land under his brush, the geometric lines that came together with a flick here or a wisp there. That is what drew Max to Michael, that under the gruff exterior was this incredible soul, a soul that could see beauty in mundane, life in death, hope in tragedy.

For a few minutes Max’s words had sunk in as Michael contemplated the snow, the whiteness, the barren forbidden landscape. He saw what no one else saw, raw power of earth, the force that combined all man to act upon his or her inner voice. Michael saw the evergreens not as a contrast of colors as the snow clung to the boughs. No, instead he saw the boughs breaking from the weight, oppressing them downward renouncing their attempts to stay green and alive. Yet those trees that were dead, the bare thin limbs of barren bark stood up and defied the snow, the cold winter’s death. That is how he saw things, different, edgy, unusual, and that is what his art was, just like him.

“Yeah it is a winter fucking wonderland Max.” Michael rolled his eyes as he twirled his fingers, “Lets go and make snow angels.”

“Some days you are a bastard Michael.” Max puffed out as he flopped down to do a crossword puzzle. He loved Michael dearly but there were days it was like talking to a mule, no a jackass. Max glared over the top of his paper, Michael just stood there with that pissed off stance he had.

“Fuck you, I need to move, to breathe.” With that Michael took off outside. Max shook his head as he got up and grabbed a parka and headed off after Michael.

“Michael get in here.” Max stared into the darkness, the snowflakes were large falling like mana from heaven. Staring through the flakes he saw darting towards him a large spherical object, before his mind could react, blasted him square in the chest.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Tue Jan 16, 2007 2:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by suicide_eagle_rath » Thu Mar 01, 2007 10:10 pm

The Winter Tempest
Part Two of Two
The impact knocked Max on his ass. Shaking his head, Max looked up to see another snowball landed inches from his head. War had been declared; no attempt at peace talks, no discussion, instead open frontal onslaught. Max scurried to his knees gathering up the wet snow, compressing it tightly into a ball. Another one landed next to him just as Max reared up to launch his own arsenal against the transgressor.

As the snowball came hurling pass him, Michael knowing he was now a target, changed tactics. Figuring a direct assault was the best, he charged through the snow wailing a fierce war cry that Wallis of Braveheart would had approved of. Max hearing the battle cry announcing the commencing attack, turned and took off running, well more like a slow plopping, as the knee deep snow made each of their steps exaggerated. Michael gained ground using the trail Max broke, soon he was within a fingertips reach, when Max suddenly turned, releasing a snowball into Michael’s face

The look on Michael’s surprised shock face was priceless as Max began to laugh hysterical. Michael took a deep breath, ‘funny huh’ he thought as he lunged at Max dropping him onto the crisp blanket of white. The two rolled around as Michael fought for dominance, his hands scrambling to open Max’s parka, letting the heat from his body escape. Quickly he slid up the hideous green sweater as Michael ran his hands over the warm flesh. Max shivered at the onslaught, his nipples tensed up immediately as Michael’s icy cold hands glided past.

“Damn! Michael your hands are ice.” Max’s sharp voice turned guttural as he felt his cock, being rubbed roughly by Michael’s other hand.

“I know.” Michael laughed as he put pressure on Max’s hardening length, enjoying the moans it induced. “ I am warming one up.” Michael smiled as Max opened his mouth slightly, panting, he loved how he could manipulate him with sex.

Taking advantage Max pulled Michael downwards expecting a searing kiss. As Michael went along with the movement, for that kiss so expectant in Max’s eyes, a demon inside Michael arose and grabbed a handful of fresh powder, grinding it into Max’s face.

Before Max could react in a negative way Michael followed up, commandeering a kiss that was so hot and seductive, the snow under them melted from the growing passion. Slowly they sank deeper, as the result of the winter’s tempest threatened to envelop them in a prison of white death.

Michael wanted more as he began to unbutton Max’s belt, he could take him there and then, in the snow, fucking his lover for all the satellites to see. His mind raced as he saw the heads of the military watching his cock slipping in and out of Max’s tight ass. A small chuckle emerged as Michael thought of those stiff shirt generals watching the pornographic action of him fucking Max. He could envision them getting so hot and fucking horny that they serviced each other on the war table, tossing the armies aside while they made the cliché love and not war.

Max moaned beneath him, bringing Michael up out of his crazed thoughts. He looked down at his lover drowning in his eyes, deep sensuous longing orbs of his soul; it was those eyes that always made him crazy for passion.

‘Damn it’s cold’ he thought as he blew out a deep breath of air that crystallized immediately upon exposure to the elements. Michael was transfixed on his breath caught in solid form drifting slowly down covering Max’s chest in fine dust of sparkling glitter. Intently he studied those crystals descend as his tongue slide out to caressed his lower lip. Unconsciously, he drew himself closer to Max until the tip of his tongue ever so lightly touched the dust dancing across Max’s chest, slowly lightly, just barely skimming the surface as Michael absorbed back his breath.

Max found himself arching as his muscles convulsed under the soft texture of Michael’s tongue, the softness of those light butterfly strokes. Max grabbed Michael’s hair, twisting it in his fingers, as he tried to force him down harder onto the skin, pressuring Michael to seek out him out, as Max needed those full lips, to surround the hard muscle.

Michael felt the strain on his neck as he resisted Max’s attempts to control what his tongue was doing. Michael was in bliss as he savored the erotic sensation of this contact, barely touching the skin, drawing Max into sex. He knew what his lover wanted and yearned to please Max, but the cold was getting to him, let alone the body beneath laying half-naked in the snow. Michael could not help but bite down slightly, just below the navel, indications of what was to come.

Max jerked at the sudden nip, his own cock lurched knowing what that meant, that bite was Michael’s little peculiarity, his indication he wanted to suck Max off. “Oh Fuck,” Max moaned, as he grabbed his zipper downwards, letting just the head seek freedom.

Michael broke into a full smile when he saw the fresh pink tip, a small drop of pre-cum formed, which Michael lapped right up elating in the moan Max let expel from his throat.

“Bed now.” Michael gasped out in between licks as he felt himself harden and spasm at the thought of Max’s entire cock in his mouth, the vein throbbing, the muscle pulsating with anticipation.

The two raced each other to the front door, their shoes sliding on the flagstone entry, as the door slammed shut. With great fervor they began throwing off their coats, scattering snow everywhere, tearing at their clothes, looking for skin on which to suck, stroke, lick, kiss.

Max grabbed Michael pushing him against the door. He stripped him of his shirt, baring his chest his hands kneading the skin, they eyes contact as Max grabbed Michael in a savage kiss, the need was great as his heart began to beat out of control. The kiss back was just a hard, the boys were lock in passion, fighting for release, the desire to please each other.

Goosebumps formed as Max stripped him of his clothes, dropping them onto the floor. Michael shivered slightly as his bare skin reacted to icy breeze that seeped through the cracks of the door jam he was pressed up against. The saliva from Max’s tongue created an ice path, the skin freezing from the chilled air. Michael’s head was back against that hard oak frame, his lips parted letting out animalistic growls of a wolf as he felt Max drop lower, the coldness now ran just above his cock.

“Damn it’s cold Max” Michael teeth were chattering as Max slowly rose, the icy path coming closer to the hot breath. Icy chills ran up Michael’s spine, the excitement from Max was partial cause, the other the wind.

Michael needed to feel Max as he pushed Max’s pants down, dropping them to the floor. Max gasped as Michael moved slightly, letting the stream of cold air bypass him and hit Max right in the groin.

“Cold!” Max shot out, as he moved out of the direct path, kicking off his shoes and pants as he grabbed Michael by the cock. Michael could not help but laugh as Max led him into the front room to the rug in front of the roaring fireplace. They both dropped to their knees; their bodies pressed closed together, skin yearning to feel skin as they leaned into each other. Max’s hands glided effortlessly down Michael’s back as they drew closer together in a passionate embrace.

The fire crackled, the sap popped sending volleys of small explosions into the room, mimicking with intensity the ignition of emotions as they burst forth one after the other deep down inside themselves. Those erotic, seductive emotions of love that one human has for another, a deep, committed love, a love of fire, passion, a love of understanding, a love of togetherness forever.

In the glow of the flames, the warmth of the burn, their love was expressed as each took the other into a series deep kisses that seem never to end. All that existed in that temporal space, at that time, was the passion of love, the psychological need to love and be loved; a feeling that almost outweighed the transitory physical love they both desired.

It was this deep psychological love Michael had the most problems with, he was a hard man to understand. Full of contradictions, a paradox of emotions, actions, ideas, and existence. He like his life solitary yet longed for human contact, the eternal battle, a tempest, a storm with himself over Max. For Michael truly loved Max, but to have him in his life was difficult something he had trouble accepting, love that was as pure, deep, and white as the tempest that raged outside.

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