Date: Wed, 19 May 2004 19:10:41 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: New Year 12

DISCLAIMER

==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002


What was it about a man dripping in sweat wearing only his shorts? He
might be a fucking bastard otherwise but there was no denying that he
made some really sweet eye-candy in the late hours of the morning. More
than six feet of smooth, defined golden-tanned muscles and heady
testosterone, all slicked up and shiny with perspiration after his
regular morning workout. That amazing body just yelled 'come lick me' to
anyone who dared. As he wiped up the sweat he'd produced with a fluffy
white towel, James flashed a quick glance at me, his chocolate brown eyes
flashing with growing amusement as he noticed me staring.

Or rather, ogling.

James was telling me about his latest advertising project but one look at
his perfect corrugated abs and I was lost in fantasy. I remembered
licking the sharp ridges made by his abs, trailing the edges of each firm
muscle. As he toweled off his wet dark curls, he shook his head with some
dismay. "You have got to be kidding me, right? We just did it an hour
ago," he complained with a hint of a chuckle.

It was true. I just punished him with some sweet lovin' a little over an
hour ago but I couldn't help it. It was one thing to ogle a beautiful man
and drool hopelessly in vain and yet another to realize that the man in
question was yours to touch - in so many inspired ways. As he continued
to mop up, I watched him unashamedly, following a particularly delicious
trail of sweat that slid sensuously over the hard swell of his pectorals,
down the corrugated ridges of his tight abs and into the trail of dark,
sweaty curls that plunged into the waistband of his shorts. Pristine
white shorts that clung to his tight, rock-hard ass and outlined the
promising swell of his crotch perfectly. Saliva collected in my mouth and
I felt like reaching over to pull down those skimpy shorts for a feast of
my own. What was even more amazing was the fact that this beautiful man
would be all too willing to help.

Although he might claim to be multi-talented in so many ways, being
self-conscious obviously wasn't on James' list of accomplishments. Even
as I practically devoured him with my eyes - and imagined doing the same
with my hands and teeth, he continued cleaning himself with perfect
nonchalance. It was difficult to care when you'd been subjected to
lustful ogles and stares most of your life.

Knowing by heart the schedule he kept, I'd tracked him down to his
bedroom after his workout. As I reluctantly pried my gaze away from his
half-naked body to look around, I realized that the differences between
our personalities couldn't be more apparent than in the way we decorated
our bedrooms. Although I certainly wasn't pointing a finger, his bedroom
suite with the connected bathroom was a relative mess compared to mine.
Stained books, lecture notes and discarded shirts decorated his chairs
and tables while I had my own books and magazines obsessively stacked up
in neat rows according to colour and size. While I leaned towards shades
of blues and creams in my own bedroom - done up in a faintly traditional
style with antique reproductions and intricately woven Persian rugs,
James preferred a more minimalist, modern look with his use of glass and
steel. A bold, brilliant splash of red covered one of his walls, accented
with mahogany-framed, moody black-and-white photos and a particularly
eye-catching Gustav Klimt print while romantic, pastel-toned Art Nouveau
posters and painted silk lanterns hung in mine.

Tossing the towel around his neck, he rested on the low wooden chest at
the end of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "You get all heated
up whenever I'm sweaty."

"I can't help it, James. You are one fine-looking man." It was the truth
after all. Actually I was coming to realize that James was starting to
favour his Caucasian father - more than his estranged mother although I
knew he wouldn't appreciate the comparison either way. Although he was an
irresponsible asshole otherwise, no one could deny that Sutton Burbridge
was an exceptionally good-looking man - one of the many reasons my aunt
had fallen heads-over-heels in lust for him - and it was evident that his
spectacular looks had been passed on to his son.

Even Sutton's voice was dead-sexy, purring like a sleek, satisfied
panther on the other side of the phone as I'd spoken to him in the
morning. As James had continued mindlessly on his routine, I'd kept an
eye on the door of my study, furtively speaking to his father - all the
time feeling like I was betraying him in some way. It was at the tip of
my tongue to tell him that his father would be arriving in two days but I
found that my courage failed me at the last moment. I certainly didn't
have the guts to face up to James' wrath at the moment. More than enough
people hated me and I needed everyone I could get at my side.

"Damned bootylicious, huh." James grinned roguishly at me as he swiped
the wet curls away from his brow. The tight, sculpted muscle of his bicep
flexed and I felt a stirring heat in my loins.

"Modest too."

"Hard to be modest when your eyes are glued to my ass." Keeping his gaze
fixed on mine, he retorted easily, a wicked grin on his handsome face.
"Nice to know my boyfriend apparently finds me attractive."

The teasing gleam in his dark eyes was infectious and I smiled easily.
"He finds you dead-sexy."

"Dead-sexy? Really?" The gleam in his eyes changed and the colour
darkened to a warm, liquid chocolate brown as his grin widened. It was
his come-fuck-me look and I'd been privy to that look more times than I
could count for the past month. "Why, Mr Sung, a compliment?"

It would have been easy enough to push him into the bed for another
pleasurable hour or two but I knew that he had a lecture this morning. So
I steeled myself to refuse his overtures. "James, what time are you
supposed to be at school?"

Seeing that he obviously wasn't getting any nookie, he stood up and
carelessly tossed the wet towel down. It was almost impossible to resist
the urge to pick it up. "Why, mommy, you gonna pack me a lunchbox?" he
replied snidely.

"Asshole." The towel remained on the floor and I stubbornly clenched my
hands. There were some things I'd determined wouldn't be part of my
problems and James Burbridge's sloppiness was one of them. As he passed
me on the way to the walk-in wardrobe, I gave him a swat on his ass. "I'm
gonna drive you."

"My ass again?" Glancing behind, James Sung stopped and grinned at me in
that wicked way of his. "You don't have to drive me, honey. I know you
have some work to do."

"Shut up." The honey comment had the colour rushing up to my face. "Since
I'm purportedly ill and abed, I am not going to show myself in the
office.."

"I told you. It's your day off." James groaned as he ran one of his large
hands down his face in disbelief. "Fuck, you can't already be thinking of
work again. Do I have to take you back to bed and teach you the value of
good, sweaty fun again?"

"You're really a pervert."

He leaned forward slowly and whispered into my ear. "I learned from the
best." Absently, he reached down and gave himself a quick grope. The
growing tent in his skimpy shorts made no secret of his intentions.
"Damn, you made me hot. Take off that shirt and let's have a quickie."

The combination of the heat from his tight body and the musky scent of
his sweat was causing a sympathetic reaction in my crotch but I pulled
myself together and gave him a shove. Getting down on James Burbridge
seemed wonderful but he had a lecture in an hour. "Fuck you."

"That's the plan, smartypants."

"You're not getting me into bed again."

"We never reached the bed," he pointed out as he forcefully tugged me
into his arms. With his powerful arms holding me tight, the urgency of
his erection prodded me in my thigh and I felt my breath catching in my
throat.

As his fast hands reached up to unbutton the top of my shirt, I slapped
them away. "I'm hot for you but we're not having sex again. I've already
gotten dressed and you're getting sweat on me."

"That wasn't the tune you were singing when you were pulling my pants off
with your teeth," he said teasingly as he caught my hands in his. I would
have put up a reasonable struggle but I found that I couldn't especially
when he gave me a sizzling kiss that warmed me right down to my toes. "I
remember you loved licking my sweat..."

"Enough." For that smart remark, I gave him a quick spank on the butt.
"It's time for school, boy!"

"And if I don't do my homework, are you going to take me over your thighs
and spank me hard?" His deep voice was a pleasant murmur against my cheek
and I could feel the low rumble of his laughter.

"Tell me, James. Where do you get these sad lines?"

"Hey, don't knock it." Releasing me from his hold, James gave me a shrug.
"They seem to work. Even on you."

I sank back onto my perch on the edge of the bed, knowing that what he'd
said was true. The lines he gave me were cheesy, overused and sounded
like something from a sleazy B-grade porn film but coming from that face,
it still made me hard as a rock. Then again, when he'd presented the
amazing ad proposal for the overseas branch of Huang's, I remained
uncomfortably erect throughout the presentation. It didn't help that he
kept giving me that look with the wicked gleam in his eye. And it was all
I could do not to imagine tipping him over the board table, ripping off
his snazzy Versace tie and biting his right nipple - right in front of
the shocked, disgusted gazes of the conservative board members.

He was right. I'm a pervert.

Pausing at the doorway of his wardrobe, James cocked his handsome head to
the side. "Jokes aside, are you feeling all right, John? About what
happened with Juliana."

Trust James to dig right to the root of the problem. Last night's
disagreement with my sister Juliana still lay open and bare, a festering
wound that seemed to have no cure and I certainly didn't want to rub salt
into the wound. Although I'd thought it through this morning, there
didn't seem to be a feasible solution to the problem and I didn't want to
think about it anymore. To avoid his probings, I aimed my shaft at him
instead. "You're not avoiding classes for me, James Sung."

James wasn't fooled. Eyeing me coolly, he spoke softly. "John."

"It's nothing, I'm alright."

Pushing away from the doorway, he stepped over to me, looking at me
closely. "You're lying," he decided.

It was difficult explaining how I felt. There was no shame in admitting
my love for James, he was a wonderful man despite his many faults, and he
made me happier than I'd ever been but all that didn't stand a chance
against my sister's disgust and anger. The unforgettable look in her eyes
as she stared at me from her doorstep. betrayal, wrath and disappintment
all rolled into one. Ouch.

"I don't know exactly how I feel yet. All I can say is it really hurts
that my only sister thinks that I'm a child-molesting pervert/deviant who
should burn in hell but I'm not going to attempt a cordless bungee jump
from the Twin Towers anytime soon." I meant it as a joke but that didn't
make it any less of a threat and James stared at me in shock, his casual
smile fading away and turning grimmer by the minute. Realizing what I'd
said could be miscontrued, I tried for a smile. "I'm kidding about that.
Really."

"Why am I not laughing?" James stared at me for a few moments as if
trying to ascertain my feelings. "Joe was right. You're not funny. You
shouldn't make jokes anymore."

It was a comment my brother had made many times before and he'd certainly
have agreed wholeheartedly with James if he hadn't gone back for his
studies.

"The drug you fed me left me a lil high, I guess." I kidded him. His grim
expression didn't change so I stood and gave him a light kiss on the
cheek. "Don't worry, James. I've got a great job, a nice house and a big
bad-ass boyfriend at home. I'm not leaving all that for anything."

"You remember that." Gently running his fingers down my cheek as he
spoke, James smiled quietly. There was a glowing warmth in his dark brown
eyes that I'd rarely seen and my heart skipped a beat. He seemed to want
to say more but thought better of it as he suddenly shook his dark head
and dropped his hand. Marching over to his walk-in wardrobe, he started
rummaging in his closet for a change of clothes but then he paused and
turned to glance back at me. "Careful, John. I might just sic Joseph on
you to babysit."

"Joseph would probably tell you to fuck off and mind your own business."
It was a laughable thought and I could just imagine his expression if he
was asked to come over to keep me from doing a kamikaze. Joseph was
another of my countless cousins, one that I was extremely fond of and he
was a brooding man who couldn't give a flying fuck about anyone.

After locating the shirt and jeans he wanted, he moved back to me. "Mind
my own business?" Impulsively, he grabbed the front of my shirt lapels
and tugged me to him. "You are my business."

"Sweet." Put it like that, who was I to argue? Similarly he was mine and
I felt partly less guilty about the letter to his father. I couldn't be
accused of meddling in his life when he did the same to mine. The simple
explanation however did little to assuage my guilt. "You're getting
romantic in your old age."

Releasing my shirt, he leaned back and laughed easily. "Still younger
than you, old boy."

"Grrr.."

Seeing the look on my face, he let out another warm chuckle as he made
his way to the connected bathroom. It was difficult trying to keep my
eyes off his ass, the gloriously round, steel-hard globes twisting and
flexing under the sheer cotton of his shorts. As he slowly tugged his
shorts down, James turned to look at me quizzically, the teasing light of
challenge in his dark eyes. "Joining me?"

The waistband of his shorts slipped easily over the tight curves of his
buttocks and halted before my hungry gaze, revealing just the beginnings
of the deep cleft between the cheeks. Knowing what was hidden underneath
the cotton made it even worse. It scared me that part of me was all too
willing to jump in the shower with him so I pulled away. "Shut up."

"Coward." His grin was a blinding flash of white before he turned towards
the bathroom.

I didn't pretend not to hear that as I walked out of his room. On the way
out, I picked up the dirty towel.


"You'll get a spanking if you go to work."

As titillating as the suggestion might be, that was what James had warned
me before he'd dashed off for his class. It was a weird feeling playing
truant. Such a scandalous act had probably never happened in the history
of the Sung family and I admit that it gave me a bit of guilty pleasure
being able to steal away from work. Was that how James felt whenever he
pulled something off?

Of course, guilt certainly hadn't been on his mind as he'd planted a wet
kiss on me before running off to class as I'd dropped him off. That one
kiss was all it took to have me regretting not taking him up on his offer
for some late morning sex. It would certainly have taken my mind off
playing hooky. After all, he was right. I'd taken off from work.

As I took a slow drive through the outskirts of the city, I realized that
in my whole life, I could practically count the times I'd left work - and
it was all somehow connected to James. I recalled the first time I'd gone
over to his place, found him stupidly drunk and high on drugs. I
remembered the time I'd visited him in rehab, how he'd bitterly cursed
and tossed verbal abuse at me. His recent change of heart had been so
sudden and abrupt that deep down inside my heart, in a dark, guilty
little corner, I admitted to myself that I still harboured some qualms.
Could such a bastard change so completely? It was a horrible thought but
I found that I couldn't help it. Despite occasional slip-ups, our
relationship had progressed relatively smoothly and as a fatalist, I
seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Give me a chance."

He'd said that once - the first time he'd moved in to my house.

Flipping on the channels, I switched it back to my own selection,
preferring big band jazz music to James' recent flirtation with hip-hop.
Eventhough I'd had my reservations, I'd given him that chance and since
he'd come back, James hadn't shown any signs of changing back to what
he'd been. With more than half the family already predicting his fall, he
shouldn't be getting such prejudice from me. The little feng shui knick
knack he'd given me to knot on the rearview mirror seemed like an
accusation suddenly. Stubbornly, I crushed that tiny shred of doubt and
turned my attention to more immediate matters.

Dropping him off in the centre of the city, I could see suits rushing
about during the lunch hour, cramming up the already crowded sidewalks.
Without my sexy boyfriend to distract me, it wasn't as easy trying to
forget about work. I knew very well that it could wait since Grace would
be able to handle the office perfectly without me so there was nothing to
worry about there. However, leaving work left a large hole in my schedule
that I found almost depressing since I couldn't think of anything else to
do. It amazed me to suddenly realize how invariably linked I was to the
company and I admit that I did feel a slight twinge or worry. Was I
metamorphosing into a clone of Grandfather as everyone said? Having so
much of my life revolving around the company that I hardly saw my own
beleaguered family and children?

Before getting entrenched in my work, I clearly recall having some
semblance of a life before. I could have sworn that I had some kind of
pasttime. When I looked up again, I realized that I was inadvertently
driving to the hospital where Dev hung up his stethoscope. It was almost
Freudian.

I always imagined that I would be donning a white coat and tie to work in
the hospital. It never quite occurred to me that I would be deep in the
halls of the Huang industrial machine. But five years ago several months
before graduation, my grandfather had flown to England with an ailing
cough, an inhaler and a tearful plea to join the company. Although the
generation of my parents all cleaved to the company, none of my peers
seemed interested to continue in the family tradition. Never one to buck
the trend, my sister Juliana had every intention of joining but since
she'd changed her degree to one for fine arts, there seemed to be little
chance of that happening. Much more interested in squandering his fund
and fucking around, James didn't seem in the least bothered about the
company at that time. Even Joey was still gallivanting around somewere in
Europe or Africa searching for the meaning of life at that time. Out of
all of us, June was the only one with any such ambitions.

It was hard to say no to my grandfather. Even more difficult to deny him
when he was wheezing away and puffing away on the inhaler. Of course now
he had somehow gotten all of us the different divisions of the company,
including - come to think about it - James! They didn't call the Old Man
a wily bastard for nothing. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he somehow
found a way to include Jonathan in his net. Joseph had escaped Grandpa's
net but I doubt it would be for long. Just last weekend I heard the Old
Man muttering something about venturing into opening a gallery shop in
the Huang flagship store - combining both Juliana and Joseph's interests.
No doubt he'd bring it up during the coming Mooncake Festival
get-together.

Even with the busy streets, it only took me five minutes to find a lot in
the hospital and another ten to knock on Dev's door.

It was weird trying to picture my best friend as a doctor. Through some
amazing metamorphosis, the wild, unruly, heavy metal-rocking playboy I'd
known in school had turned into a respectable physician, dark and
handsome in his suit and tie. The beautifully framed plaques displayed on
the wall displayed his degrees, a quietly gleaming caduceus pin
proclaimed his occupation and as I continued to look around his clinic, I
suffered a quick twinge of regret that I hastily smothered. There was a
time way back when we'd planned to set up a practice together.

My message had obviously gotten to him and noticing my entry, Dev
swivelled around on his seat. "What brings you here, you little
troublemaker?"

It had been some time since I'd dropped by his office. My erratic office
hours clashed with his own and I never had the time to visit him at work.
"Was wondering whether you'd be up for lunch." I took the chair opposite
him.

"John Sung. This is entirely unprecedented." He immediately turned
suspicious, his dark eyes narrowing. "It's barely noon and you're out of
the office. To what do I owe this honour? Is it my birthday?"

"Shut up." We'd known each other too long for me not to know that he was
deliberately razzing me. Dev claimed it was one of his only ways to
destress.

Flashing a grin of triumph after succeeding in goading my temper, he
tossed the stethoscope dangling from his neck on the table and stood up
to come around the table. "Well, you look happy and well-fucked. James
seems to be doing a good job."

Admonishing him, I gave him a quick, light rap on his knee. "God, you
have the most disgusting mouth.."

"Well, you're one to talk. Mine isn't wrapped around James' drooling
dick."

"Dev." I eyed him coolly even as my ears started turning red. It was one
thing to have my lips around the considerable length of James Burbridge's
erection and yet another to have my best friend talk about it.

The grim look on my face didn't deter him and his wicked grin grew wider.
"Believe me, my nurses have heard worse."

"Not about me!" I stated loudly.

He laughed. "Fuck them. Let them talk."

It sounded like something James would say and I realized how similar he
was to James sometimes. Both of them didn't seem to care a whit about
anyone else. They did what they wanted, said what they wanted, didn't
give a shit about anything, hang the consequences. It had to be extremely
liberating to possess such untrammelled freedom.

Just as I was busy pondering their similarities, Dev suddenly did
something utterly unprecedented. Before I could even decipher his
intentions, he leaned over and planted a kiss on me. It was a brief peck
on the lips, a quick pressure on my lips, and he just as quickly pulled
away before I could do anything about it.

"What the hell." I shoved away from the chair, hastily holding him away.
Before I could give him a black eye, he leaned back on the desk, away
from me. "You didn't just do what I think you just did."

"I did." Eyeing me with a gleam in his dark eyes, he slowly wiped his
hand over his thick lips. "Mmm... sweet."

There was a nasty gleam in his eye and I knew that he had to be up to
something. There was no doubt in my mind that Dev was straight as an
arrow and that sudden kiss seemed to prove my point. It felt almost like
kissing my own brother - not that I entertained any such notion. It
practically made me want to heave. "If you say vanilla, I'm going to
clobber you."

He grinned.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"Curious, I guess." Dev shrugged, gesturing with his hands in
explanation. "My best bud's gay and I want to see whether I'm missing
anything."

It sounded like something he would experiment with and I nudged his ankle
with my shoe. "Asshole."

"You didn't get a boner?"

There was a touch of glee in his voice and I stared at him balefully.
"Dev."

"Grow a sense of humour, would you?" Rising from his perch on the desk to
give me a quick slap on my shoulder, Dev leapt up. Wrestling the knot on
his dark blue tie, he removed it and tossed it on the table. "My clinic's
done for the day and I already cleared my schedule when you sent me that
sms. I can see you're raring to tell me something."


Staying away from drugs was a bitch. Going back to school was a bitch.
Getting your work vetted by an untalented bunch of baldheaded dimwits
with no fashion sense and no style was a bitch. What made it all
worthwhile was the fact that for once I wasn't living my life for my
parents. Nor for my grandparents. Nor for some pathetically misguided
past. I was doing it only for myself, not to get back at them for
whatever perceived wrongs they had committed.

And it helped that he was there. Standing at the carpark waiting.
Straight black hair combed ruthlessly into place despite one unruly curl
that tugged away at his forehead. Serious eyes shaded with the Ray-Bans
I'd forced on him. Dressed in a powder blue button-down shirt and slacks,
minus the neck choking tie. It was a far cry from my tight white V-neck
and sprayed-on black jeans, obviously the better to show off my pecs and
ass. Damn it, if you've got it...

Jogging down the stairs, I spared a quick glance at my watch. Keeping him
waiting for the past twenty minutes would piss him off but he would never
admit to it. Time was precious to him and he made sure not a second was
wasted - even on his day off. I grinned to myself, time was a little more
flexible for James Burbridge - and John knew that. As a reminder of my
bad habit, the new leather strap watch on my wrist had been a gift from
him when I'd moved in. As he noticed my approach, there was a brief flash
of impatience on his dark face that he quickly tried to suppress. I was
amazed that he never even glanced at his own watch - or even the blasted
PDA he kept close by. Always.

Trying for a smile, I crossed over to the car, watching him closely. My
walk was a cool, nonchalant saunter, guaranteed to make his blood boil
slowly. My man was sadly predictable. "You're pissed off."

"I'm not." He gritted out quietly.

"You're practically frothing at the mouth." It was true. Although there
were no obvious clues of his rising temper to an outsider, I knew John -
and I could clearly see the telltale signs... a muscle leaping at the
edge of jaw, a slight flaring of his nostrils that boded ill for anyone
who dared cross his path. That uncharacteristic show of temper and
testosterone usually triggered my own raging libido and it didn't fail to
do so now.

"And you're baiting me."

Underneath that stern gaze, I grinned unabashedly. He was on to me.

Patiently, he slid off his shades and watched me closely with those dark
brown eyes. "I should spank you for that."

"Your obsession with my ass must stop." The temper had passed for now and
I could breathe a sigh of relief. "And you're the one who gave me the
watch." Meaning that it would make me do just the opposite. Contrary
James, that was me. Give me a rule and I'll be all hellbent set to break
it.

Catching my meaning, he glowered at me for a brief moment, caught in his
own machinations. "I never meant for the watch.."

"Bullshit." For a moment, he seemed tempted to deny it but thought better
of it and broke into a reluctant smile. Pleased with his progress, I
reached over and rested my hand on his broad shoulder. "Give me this one
little vice, John."

"That had better be the only one." John teased me just as he reached down
to open the car door.

"Damn, you've gotta be kidding me." It was amazing. For once, he wasn't
cautiously tip-toeing around my problems as if I was a fragile victim
waiting to fall off the wagon at the least provocation. As I got into the
car, I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm practically a fucking saint."

Seated in the driver's seat, he slapped on the trusty belt and started
the car. The edge of his lips tilted up in a half-grin. "A lil more on
fucking, I'd say."

"John." I turned around in some surprise, my jaw falling open slightly.

His smile grew wider, the tips of his ears flushed pink, but he
disregarded my comment, pausing instead to gesture at some packages in
the front seat. "I actually got you some tea."

"Darling, you shouldn't have." I reached down and pulled up the packages.

"Can the sarcasm."

It was a hot dog and I smiled. Did he remember that golden afternoon
years ago when we gorged ourselves on dogs? It's not often that I pigged
out on meat, it wasn't some new Buddhist vegan shtick that I'd picked up,
it wasn't some misplaced sense of outrage over the cannibalistic
treatment of animals bred solely for the oven. Even with my excellent
genes and exceptional metabolism, you didn't get a hard body like mine
with almost zero body-fat percentage by gorging indiscriminately on hot
dogs. And love handles, no matter how adorable they might be, wouldn't go
on that well on my resume.

But I also recalled a sunny afternoon years ago when we were younger,
still very much in accord, munching on hot dogs and sandwiches made by
his mother. I'd planted a dollop of mayo on his nose even as he'd broken
into spontaneous laughter. He wasn't that uptight then. It was a sweetly
sentimental Kodak moment that had surprisingly remained with me and I had
to smile, even as I reached for the package. The spicy, meaty fragrance
wafted to my nose, tickling my senses as I took my first bite with my
eyes closed. "God, so thick, so hot, so juicy."

As he slowly maneuvered the car onto the main road, John gave me a wry
look beneath his dark brows. "James, please. You're not gonna make
something obscene out of a hot dog."

"When are you gonna give me a piece of your meat then?" Grinning
wickedly, I playfully snaked my hand over his thigh and grabbed wildly at
his crotch. The car swerved slightly and slapping my hands away, he
brought his own back to the wheel and fought for control.

"Shit! What the hell." His normally calm voice rose into a near yell.

I laughed.

"Are you crazy?" His dark eyes flared for a moment. "Don't ever do that
again."

"You weren't saying that this morning."

It was one of my standard cheeky comments and nearly almost guaranteed to
rile him but the man surprised me by laughing instead. His usually
serious dark eyes lit up with a devious gleam. "For that, James Sung,
you're coming with me to the Mooncake Dinner."

It had almost slipped my mind, the regular, almost quarter-yearly family
gatherings... Like every large multinational corporation, the various
regional branches of the family came together for a quick conference
every few months to share experiences, negotiate truces and make plans
for the uncertain future. "Fuck."