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Curious to see our boys? With the help of AI I've created PG images of Chris and Ian that exactly represent how I see them as I write. Email me to see them.
Ian's Extra Credit - Chapter 2
I wake to a rumbling sound and a flood of light. The power is back on but what was that sound? Then it comes again accompanied by the most gut wrenching, nose wrinkling smell. And again. Ian's ass was freely blasting out noxious fumes. I go to wake him but I notice how stunningly beautiful he is. He looks almost angelic. This 6'3", 220lb, sandy haired, green eyed god is lying in my bed, snoring contentedly, his ass blasting out the breath of the devil.
I get up quietly and make my way to the can. I notice the warmth of the floor beneath my feet, the underfloor heating is doing its job. Trying to will down my morning wood I took a long piss feeling the relief come over me. Fuck my hair is a mess. A quick brush of my teeth and a splash of cold water on my face I head to the kitchen to put on the coffee.
As I turn to the fridge I am suddenly reminded of my last memory before falling asleep. What the fuck was that? He kissed me. He told me he likes me. He's not gay. As far as I know he doesn't know I am either. My parents know but no one at school does. What is this about? And what was that he said about treating me like shit to get close to me? I turn on the radio to hear the weather report. Not that I need to. Dear god, `Love Will Keep Us Together' plays...again. Outdoors continues to be a continuous field of white, both on the ground and in the air. My mind is trying to sort and sift through all that has happened but before I realize it I've prepared scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for two.
Just then I hear Ian coming up the stairs.
"Morning Chris."
"Morning Ian. Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah I did thanks," running his hand through his comically unruly hair, "gotta piss." as he heads to the john.
He returns to the kitchen to see the table set for breakfast.
"Have a seat. I hope you like scrambled eggs."
"I can't remember the last time I had a real breakfast. That would have been when mom was okay and I don't really remember much of that." he sputtered while stuffing his adorable face. "This is great, thanks. Hey the power is on, is that why my toes feel so toasty?" I look down at his feet. How is it possible that every single inch, every part of him is so perfect. Flawless. The rather lush golden hair on his sculpted legs. Get a grip.
"It is but the bad news is it will be a day, maybe two before the streets are cleared. It looks like we are roomies for a couple more days."
"It's not like I have anything to go home to but I can't just stay here." he sighs.
"Why not Ian, we are friends now, remember?"
"Yeah right, still a new feeling. How do you know if you are crossing a line, taking advantage?"
"Ian, would you ever take advantage of me?"
"Fuck no Chris, why would you even ask that?"
I just stare at him. Before I can say anything he declares, "Ohhhhh, okay, I get it."
"Help me load the dishwasher, I have something to show you."
Once done I take Ian down a long hall. Ornate mirrors and original oil paintings line the walls. Not only do my parents do well but my grandparents, my mom's mom and dad, left us a ton of nice shit when they blew up. No really, they were on a friend's yacht and the fucker blew sky high. Turns out the friend was an arms dealer and had pissed off someone. My grandparents always reminded me of Thurston and Lovey Howell from Gilligan's Island, they were as pompous as a Swarovski shit statuette, not a shitty Swarovski statuette but an actual statuette of shit made out of Swarovski crystals...where the fuck is my mind going?Opening the door at the end we step in and I turn on the lights.
"Holy fuck, what is this?" He gazes around the large room taking in the highly polished hardwood floors, mirrors along the wall, huge speakers, a barre, and soaring fifteen foot ceilings crisscrossed by lighting rigs. I realize with some embarrassment that this room is larger than his whole house.
"This is my mom's dance studio and theatre. She teaches mentally disabled kids and old farts mostly. I figured as long as you are stuck here you could get in some more practice. You'd fit in anyway."
"Wow thanks, what? What did you just call me?" giving me a playful nudge.
"We have to get something better to wear, wait here."
Waking, mostly running to my room I drop the robe and put on a pair of navy blue sweats. This is what I normally wear when home alone. I like the free balling feeling. My dick bounces around, well not much, not a lot to bounce. Oh I've willed it to grow but it seems determined to stay perfectly proportioned to my tiny body. The house is warm enough that I don't bother with a shirt or socks. Rummaging through my dad's drawers I find a pair of threadbare sweats that will fit Ian. Both pairs are embroidered with the logo of my dad's airline.
"Here you go," tossing him the sweats.
He grabs them and without thought drops his bathrobe right in front of me. Give me a moment...okay...no another moment...sweet baby jesus help me get through this. He is the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. Perfect face, chiseled body and... oh fuck...I think of my own, I guess, average-ish dick while faced with what had to be easily six thick inches hanging, huge droopy nuts, and a foreskin that formed a nozzle at the bulbous head. His cock was a few shades darker than his body causing it to stand out even more.
"Oh shit, sorry," he says as he notices me staring slack jawed. "I'm home alone so often. I'm just not used to anyone else being around."
"Hey no harm done, nothing I haven't seen before." I say with a knowing inward grin.
Lights, music and away we go. Having watched my mom over the years I'm a pretty good dancer, I just don't really enjoy it much. Too social. So I help him with some of his harder moves. We go full in for over five hours until he is perfect and we are completely drained, dripping with sweat and panting. What he could not achieve in weeks at school he has done in a day at my home.
"How did you do that? You were pretty crap to be honest the last few weeks." I ask.
"I know, I have no idea what happened. I think maybe it is being around you knowing that I can trust you and you...you are the first person who ever made me feel good about myself. Even in the theatre you never once mocked me or put me down. You were always supportive even when I was a jerk. I wanted to prove to you that I'm not a complete fuckup."
My heart breaks just a little bit upon hearing those words from such a wonderful and misunderstood guy.
"Well now we have reason to celebrate. I'll make us a nice dinner then we can jump in the hot tub." I tell him.
"You have a hot tub?"
"Yeah," I say turning on the lights on the back deck. "It is great in a snowstorm."
"I know this is just everyday shit for you Chris but for me it is like I'm at a five star resort."
"Well let's see if I can make it six star," not having a clue what I meant. I begin to prepare dinner.
My mind continues to whirl like the snow outside. Yeah I'm gay but I've never even kissed anyone before. Ian is not gay, I believe him when he says that, but maybe deep down he is struggling. But it is what he believes.
I would never have pursued Ian. Hell I would never pursue anyone. I wouldn't call myself anti social but I generally don't like people much. This time I've spent with Ian is more than I've ever spent with anyone other than my parents. I don't want to sound like a total dick but I'm really smart and at my age that doesn't always make for easy friendships. But here I am, feeling more and more drawn to this guy and again, not to be a dick but Ian's reputation is not one of scholarly achievement. But I'm getting the impression he is not dumb, just dense. He does get it if given a chance. He's never been given that chance.
"Dinners ready Ian," I call, he is watching tv. I feel so domestic.
"God that smells good, what is it?"
"Roast chicken with mashed potatoes, glazed carrots and a green salad. Bon appetit." I reply with my best Julia Child voice. That goes miles above his head.
"I'm lucky to get macaroni and cheese at home." after this his mouth was too full to talk.
"That was the best meal I've ever had, seriously Chris, where did you learn to cook like that?"
"I'm alone a lot so I just picked it up. I watch The Galloping Gourmet for some good recipe ideas." Which reminds me I have to get a bottle of Merlot from the cellar for tomorrow's pot roast. I know some say it is too sweet but I balance that with a tiny bit of lemon juice. Sorry---tangent. "I got tired of take out. I'm happy to teach you a few things."
"I'll take you up on that. Uh Chris, if we are friends does that mean that we can share like secrets and shit?"
"Where is the body hidden Ian? Oh my god the look on your face. I don't know about other friends Ian but how about we just agree that any conversations we have stay between us. Like you telling me about your mom, I'm not going to repeat that to anyone. So anything we say stays between us, yes."
"Great anything we say or do stays between us."
I heard that, okay, Freudian or with intent?
"It's dark and there are no houses near us to gawk. I'm going to get the hot tub ready why don't you roll a couple of doobies and I'll grab some cold beer."
We meet at the patio doors staring out into the blanket of white blowing snow. The steam rising from the tub is forming a bubble of clear air over the tub. A faint scent hits my nostrils. Sweet, slightly musky, fresh. It is Ian's smell and god how I love it.
"Lets down a couple of beer by the fire before we head out." We sit drinking and talking about some of the kids at school. Funny that the ones I thought were his friends are the ones he detests the most.
"I told you, they only like me for this," he blurts, lighting a fattie, "they don't give a fuck about me and I don't give a fuck about them."
"Why me Ian? It isn't just this storm. Last night when you came back from the bathroom..."
Ian's face goes ashen. "Let's go get wet," he bolts up the stairs and towards the patio doors, I follow.
"So how do we do this?" he asks.
"Like this," I strip off my sweats in front of him, letting them drop around my ankles, my pulse racing. I've never been naked in front of anyone before. Being younger than my peers I was always a little modest, but it feels okay with Ian. I know he won't make fun of me.
He strips and we run outside, barefoot in the snow, we climb the four steps and lower ourselves into the steamy water.
"This feels so fucking incredible, you are so lucky." Ian states.
I guess I am but like most kids my age I lack some appreciation. Just knowing where Ian lived told me he didn't have much. Nothing out there but a few dilapidated single wides and some old greenhouses.
Suddenly I feel something touch my right foot, Ian's toes are gently stroking my foot, his head is back, eyes closed, in a stoned dreamland.
Is he aware of what he is doing, the effect he is having on me? And by effect, yes, that stiffy I avoided yesterday has reared its head. This big beast of a boy/man is being so very gentle. Each moment he seems more complex.
"We've been simmering long enough, best get inside." I stand and he follows me out of the tub, both of us naked, my earlier problem had subsided somewhat. I put the cover on the tub and we go inside.
"I've got an idea," Ian smirks, "truth or dare?"
"Dare" I reply.
"I dare both of us to stay naked. It's more comfortable and we've seen everything the other has so..."
"Your high," I cleverly point out.
"No shit Sherlock," he retorts. "But what the fuck, why the hell not, let's get baked."
So we sit naked by the fire and do just that, more beer, more weed, Queen blaring and I cannot believe this is real. I'm this very private, most think shy small kid, sitting beside the school god. Naked! Did I accidentally drop some acid or something? Two days ago my life was normal. Parents away I planned to cum as many times as my hand and dick would allow but my whole life seems to have changed. How much more change was to come?
"This guy is so fucking good, he must get all the pussy he wants." Ian states.
Ummm...okay. As I mentioned, dense.
"So as I said earlier, when you came back to bed..."
"Fuck Chris, I thought you were asleep. Umm...It's just that...well...I was just..."
"Ian you kissed me, told me you really like me and some other weird shit."
"I thought I could give my only friend a little kiss on the cheek okay and tell him that I like him okay?" anger raising his voice his face reddening.
"Ian, what's wrong, I'm not mad or upset or anything like that. Don't get angry."
"Fuck I'm fucking fucking up fucking again!"
"Ian, no, here," I lean forward and give him a light peck on the cheek. "I really like you Ian. There we're even."
Ian glares at me, tears forming in the corners of his beautiful eyes, then jiggles into laughter. "Oh god I'm such an idiot. I thought I fucked up the only friendship I've ever had. Sorry Chris, I just feel so comfortable with you. I can just be me, not who everyone thinks I am. Or maybe I think I am..."
"No we're good," I say still lacking some important answers but deciding to let it go for now.
So we watch a couple of tv shows and as it seems appropriate `Kentucky Fried Movie" on VHS while continuing to see just how fried two naked teenage boys can get. Just so you know, it is seriously fried.
As we lay there naked he starts stroking my foot again with his toes. I look down where our feet are warming in front of the fire.
"How big are those flippers Ian?"
"What?" he follows my gaze, "oh my feet, size 16, and you know what they say."
"Yeah thanks so much. I'm a size seven, mine look like baby feet next to your's."
"All of you is compact, you're all cute and cuddly looking."
"So explain to this compact, cute and cuddly guy what you meant about..."
"Okay," he interrupted, seemingly resigned to the fact that I was not going to let it drop. "I'll tell you."
And he does. About a year ago I caught his attention while setting up some lighting for a winter carnival show the school was doing. First he thought my job interesting, and it is, but then he realized more and more it was me he was noticing. In the classroom, the gym, the lunchroom. He couldn't stop looking for me and at me. He had heard rumours that I was gay. This surprised me as no one other than my incredibly cool parents were aware and I didn't give off what anyone would consider gay vibes but apparently with the new school year came some new rumours and although he wanted to get to know me he was worried about guilt by association so crafted a clever plan to get a bit closer to me but with a valid excuse.
He needed extra credit, boy did he need it, so he selected dance/theatre knowing that I would have to be there. Yup, I was a 15 year old kid but there were actually union rules. Outside of school events I got paid for this and very well. Anyway although we spent weeks together, separated by 400 seats, he never got the nerve to just talk to me rather than at me. He can't explain the attraction or connection he feels and he could never tell anyone but fuck...he says he doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with him and he starts to bawl.
After a long snotty blow into a paper towel he asks, "So are you?"
"Am I what?" Knowing the question but trying to delay the answer.
"Are you gay?" There it is. The question I've been anticipating for years. The one I most fear. I always knew the day would come when it would be asked. I just never knew who the asker would be.
"Yes." I gulp. Other than mom and dad I have never told anyone this before.
His eyes soften looking deep into mine. Each time this happens I feel like we are becoming closer, like a connection of some kind is being formed. Maybe I should add a psych course. Sorry don't remember if I mentioned but I'm taking a few first year university courses, all science. I should probably expand my horizons a bit. Maybe learn a little more about myself. It's the first time I ever really gave this much thought. Ian is causing me to question how I feel about people in general and how I feel about him specifically.
"This is what it means to trust someone," he whispers, "thank you for trusting me."
"Hey this is all getting too serious. Let's have a laugh." I put on a George Carlin album. We sit getting higher and laugh-cough-choke through his routines. "Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, mothefucker and tits!" We yell in unison.
"Oh god I can barely breathe. He is so fucking funny. I gotta piss." And he ran off upstairs giving me a spectacular view of his tight ass.
He returns and sits next to me on the edge of the sofa bed while I stare into the fire. His leg is pressed against mine our bodies separated by less than an inch.
"Chris?" he says with a quiet tone.
"Yeah?"
"Well you're gay, I'm not, I'm not attracted to guys at all.
"Right."
As he puts his arm around my shoulders pulling me into him, his body warm and providing a sense of security. "But here is the weird fucking thing Chris, ummm...I am attracted to you." He quickly averted his gaze.
"What?" I can not believe what I am hearing and it is almost impossible to speak, my throat is choking up. "I don't understand." I squeaked out.
"Neither do I but there is something about you. Every time I see you in school all I can think about is being around you, getting to know you. At first it was just curiosity about you. How you are so fucking smart. You never have to study and you ace every test, every assignment. You can fix anything. I've watched you in the theatre and you just know how things work. I have trouble tying my shoes. We are so different. But over time it wasn't just admiration for your brains. I started to think about you in ways that make no sense to me. I like tits and pussy and girls. I was...you know...spending a bit of alone time and suddenly it was you I was thinking about. I still don't get it. I think I'm a bit obsessed actually," he giggled nervously. "Chris do you like me the way I like you? Even though to be honest I'm not sure how I like you. I just know it doesn't feel normaI. I mean it's okay if you don't. This is a bit odd isn't it, asking you this while we are naked together on a bed in front of a fire."
"Ian," I whisper causing him to turn towards me. I lean in and our lips touch. Oh god this feels...I don't have words for it.
Our tongues touch, entering each others mouths, exploring gently at first and then with more intensity. The tip of my tongue feels the roof of his mouth, the polish of his teeth and the softness of the inside of his cheeks. Ian moves me onto my back and lays on top of me, our tongues continuing their dance.
By this time we are both rock hard grinding against each other. Frottage. Yes I speak French. I notice that I'm feeling lightheaded, starting to feel a bit faint, "Ian I can't breathe." Ian rolls us over so I'm now on top. "Much better thanks." Then our tongues resume their play.
I feel the warmth of his developed chest under me, the soft golden hairs, the strength of his embrace, then his thick muscular legs wrap around me pulling us closer. We are glistening in the reflected fire light. Two teenage boys in heat. I want this to last forev...fuck no not now...I blast the largest load of my life between us making us both sticky and slippery at the same time. The look on Ian's face tells it all as his eyes scrunch up and he lets out a bellow while adding to the growing gooeyness between us.
I collapse on top of him. Both of us are panting, sweating and a bit confused.
After a few minutes, " I think we need a shower." We go in silence to the bathroom and take turns quickly showering.
Returning to bed I turn to ask if we are okay. Before I can speak Ian utters, "Thanks Chris, that was amazing, I've never felt like that before."
"Me either Ian, thank you, that was fucking incredible."
"I'm wiped."
"Me too."
"Let's get some sleep."
We give a quick kiss good night and spoon, me of course being the little spoon. I don't remember ever feeling this way, this wanted, this desired. I feel Ian's breath, hot on the back of my neck causing the tiny hairs to stand up. I drift off hearing "I think I love you Chris. God I'm fucked up."