LARGETONY Blog

NOTE: I have not seen the movie “Brokeback Mountain.” This is just sort of a spoof based on what I have seen in trailers, with my own ideas tossed on top of it. It’s not a commentary on anything, just me wanting to write something. Just meant to be entertaining.

Continued from Part Two

Although they never spoke of their moment in the firelight, Flintwinkle convinced Jingleshanks to stay and honor his commitment to the Silver Whiskers and to himself. “It’s just something an elf has got to do,” he said. So, a few days later Jingleshanks was still at the North Pole, more comfortable with the cold, but no less comfortable with his conflict.

That Friday night he was holding down the corner of the room at Mrs. Claus’ “Come Together” dance, nursing a bottle of root beer. He had arrived with a group of other elves he bunked with at the ranch, but they had all since dispersed around the room, some pairing off with the female elves, others on the prowl. Jingleshanks, himself, had even danced a bit with a seamstress elf named Shimmerwing. She was charming and pretty and had Jingleshanks met her a week ago, she might have held more interest for him than she did this night.

Jingleshanks stayed in the corner because it gave him the best view of arrivals at the front door. He hoped that Flintwinkle might appear. Although he worked next him everyday training reindeer, he still wanted to be near him outside of work. On the ranch Jingleshanks felt no more important to Flintwinkle than any other elf, but deep down he knew that, in him, Flintwinkle found something special. Maybe things could be more relaxed at the dance.

Giving up hope, Jingleshanks finished off his bottle, shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for the door. No one else would be back at the bunkhouse yet, so it would give him time to be alone in his thoughts. A giggling Shimmerwing cut off his path and begged Jingleshanks for another dance. She was beginning to bet a little drunk and it made her seem not nearly as attractive as before. He begged off the dance and turned away from the girl in time to run chest to chest into Flintwinkle. “You came,” Jingleshanks gushed, gripping Flintwinkle by his thick biceps.

“Thought I’d check and see who’s around,” Flintwinkle shrugged. Jingleshanks threw his arm over Flintwinkle’s shoulder and led him toward the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.” The two of them stayed near the bar, watching the crowd. Many of their co-workers stopped by to say hello or chat for moment, most of them surprised to see Flintwinkle at the “Come Together.” Never having been a social creature, Flintwinkle soon grew uncomfortable with the attention, so Jingleshanks suggested they step outside for a while.

They went through big wooden doors at the rear of the building, but Jingleshanks could tell that, although outside, Flintwinkle was still uneasy out on the crowded terrace. Navigating through the groups of laughing and chattering elves, Jingleshanks led the way down a set of steps, where the two could feel more on their own. Underneath the stairs, he sat on an empty crate as Flintwinkle simply leaned against a support post with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Jingleshanks stared up at Flintwinkle’s face, the moonlight streaming through lattice to cast a shadowy pattern yet lighting up the brilliance of the eyes.

As usual, Flintwinkle wasn’t saying much. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his tin of peppermint. Before putting a pinch in his mouth, he silently extended the can toward Jingleshanks, who shook his head and took a sip from his root beer. “So, lot of people seem surprised to see you here,” Jingleshanks offered, breaking the silence.

“Gingertwist asks me to bring her every year, but I never do.” Flintwinkle responded.

“Why not?”

“I’d never be much fun for her at something like this. I don’t like the crowds and I don’t know nothing about dancing. Besides, we got the girls to take care of, you know?”

“Dancing’s no big thing,” Jingleshanks said. ”It’s just something that’s inside you. All you got to do is let it out.” Picking up the beat from the music playing at the party overheard, Jingleshanks moved about, demonstrating. “See, it’s just step and step and step. Come on, try it.”

Flintwinkle held his ground, shaking his head. But Jingleshanks would not give up and eventually Flintwinkle began to shuffle his feet in place. “No,” Jingleshanks instructed. “You need to do it on the beat. See?” Embarrassed, Flintwinkle stopped and watched the younger elf dance around him. Flintwinkle rotated in his spot, not letting his eyes off Jingleshanks for a second.

“Try it again,” Jingleshanks ordered. “And this time move your feet around. Don’t just stay in one place.” It was as if every joint in Flintwinkle’s body was locked, he moved so stiffly. “Let me help you,” Jingleshanks offered. He slid in behind Flintwinkle and placed his hands on the elf’s hips. “Now move your feet with mine.” Holding on, Jingleshanks nudged the back of Flintwinkle’s thigh with his knee, then the other, forcing their steps to work together.

Flintwinkle and Jingleshanks moved in a small circle, shifting their weight back and forth, and Flintwinkle relaxed enough to let his weight fall against Jingleshanks chest. “That’s it,” Jingleshanks whispered. “It’s inside you. All you got to do is let it out.” From behind, Jingleshanks led his hand wander from his dance partner’s hip to his torso. In response, Flintwinkle grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his arm more tightly around him. Their dancing slowed to a gentle rock and Flintwinkle’s free hand reached back to fondle Jingleshanks through his britches.

Jingleshanks closed his eyes in pleasure and dropped his nose to the crook of Flintwinkle’s neck. Whether it was the intoxicating smell of peppermint, the silvery moonlight, or the joy of being entwined with such an elf, when Flintwinkle turned to nuzzle against Jingleshanks head, Jingleshanks felt the urge to kiss Flintwinkle. And so he did.

It was as if someone ripped the needle off the record they danced to, when Flintwinkle violently push Jingleshanks away. They faced each other, panting like dogs ready for attack, their breath illuminated like silvery clouds in the moonlights. “I’m sorry,” Jingleshanks begged. Flintwinkle came at him and he instinctively put his hands up for protection. But Flintwinkle was quicker and stronger, and soon Jingleshanks found himself forced into the corner as Flintwinkle pressed against him, forcing his tongue into his mouth and tearing at Jingleshanks belt buckle.

Jingleshanks gave himself over to Flintwinkle, just as Flintwinkle gave himself over to his own desires. A tangle of arms, legs, lips, and lowered trousers, the two elves devoured each other beneath the stairs at the “Come Together.”

Flintwinkle leaned Jingleshanks forward against one of the support posts and reached forward placing his open palm under Jingleshanks chin. Jingleshanks knew, instinctively, to spit into the elf’s hand. Flintwinkle smeared the lubrication between Jingleshanks buttocks and spoke with hot peppermint breath into his ear. “You ever had this before?”

“No, sir,” Jingleshanks answered. Flintwinkle responded with an unnecessary apology, and drove his thick member into Jingleshanks, who could only gasp and grit his teeth at the forceful entry. Once inside, Flintwinkle wrapped both arms around Jingleshanks and pumped his hips with strong deep trusts. He hammered his way into his friend with such need and urgency it made Jingleshanks wonder how long it had been since Flintwinkle had been inside his wife.

The two ranch elves engaged in a gripping and powerful encounter. Flintwinkle took Jingleshanks with ferociousness, growling and panting as he repeatedly brutalized the anus he now commanded. It was a brutality without malice. Not only desired, but welcomed.

Like any time he spent with Flintwinkle, Jingleshanks hoped it could last forever, but when Flintwinkle sank his bared teeth into the thickness of Jingleshanks back, he knew the end was close. With one last thrust, Flintwinkle tightened his grip on his lover and pulled him into an upright position as he unloaded deep within his cheeks. As before, Flintwinkle’s orgasm triggered one for Jingleshanks, who let fly into the night air, his dollops of semen melting little dots in the snow.

“Thank you,” Jingleshanks said breathlessly before pressing his lips against Flintwinkle’s once again. Flintwinkle squirmed out of the kiss, yanked up his pants and took off running across the fields toward his cottage. Jingleshanks started to follow, but he knew better and, instead watched him disappear in the moonlight. Gingertwist was right. The “Come Together” was the perfect place to fall in love.

—to be continued

This entry was posted on Monday, December 26th, 2005 at 11:11 pm and is filed under holiday, stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.