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Ian's Extra Credit - Chapter 9
Well yesterday went great. Ian took Sammy up north for his appointment and she is convinced she can help him. She took a bunch of swabs and sent him home with a full regimen of exfoliators, cleansers, ointments and some pills. As soon as they got home Sammy rushed to his house to get started. He is really looking forward to this. I hope it works. Sammy has a great smile. It would be nice to see it more frequently.
Ian said he really enjoyed spending some time with Sammy during the drive. It gave them time to get to know each other a bit better. Sammy told him how he got picked on as a fat kid and that is why he hates bullies of any kind. Sammy even tried to teach Ian some Yiddish with little success.
The rest of the day was fairly quiet. Ian spent some time with Harold and I spent some time in my head. That dream. Should I let it bother me? I have really weird dreams all the time and I was quite buzzed. And hey, Sammy has a lot going on for him. I'm not going to make too much of it. Didn't happen last night so I'm sure it's okay. I do really like Sammy but not in that way. Doing some of the household chores provided a few moments of distraction.
So as I down my third coffee Ian comes into the kitchen fully dressed looking like a GQ model. Damn I picked a good one. We already had breakfast and we are just about to head off to school.
"So are you ready for this Ian? You know that by now that Steve has spread this all over the school." I bemoan. "There are a lot of nasty kids."
"I got this Chris. I can take care of myself and if anyone goes near you, well, I'll be writing you from prison." Ian promises.
"Let's just try and take it easy. Just ignore them, okay? It's not going to be easy but we can get through this together. It'll pass. Promise me baby?" I beg.
"I promise but, oh fuck, anyone fucks with you..."Ian fades off, a look of intense anger, and at the same time intense love, on his stunning face.
The drive takes only minutes. Arriving just at the bell we split up and run to our respective classes, having made plans to meet up at lunch. I notice in first period that I'm not getting any strange looks, well no more than normal. Connie is chewing on her pencil as usual. Brad is staring out the window, already praying for the day to end. It's a typical start to our day. They're probably waiting until lunch. Fuck me. The rest of the morning is quiet and finally the bell for lunch rings. Here goes, my entire body tense with anxiety I head off to the lunchroom to meet Ian.
Ian is waiting for me outside the lunchroom door. "Any problems Chris? Ian inquires.
"No, I'm surprised but it's probably waiting inside. Ready?" I ask.
Ian pushes the door open and we step inside, standing in front of me. I'm ready to use my ever present clipboard to shield myself.
Nothing but the murmer of students eating, utensils clinking. Revolting aromas coming from the food line. We look around and everything is completely normal. We look at each other quizzically, grab our grub and take our seats.
"Hey guys." It's Sammy. "Can I join you?"
"Of course." Ian replies. "Sit your ass down."
"So anything?" Sammy asks.
"No, something isn't right here. We all know Steve's mouth." I say. This spaghetti is absolutely, well, yeah.
"Hey guys did you hear about Steve?" It's Mike, the school gossip, as he joins us. "His dad busted his fucking nose. Steve got caught stealing his dad's beer and he pounded him. Oh there's Peter. I gotta go tell him."
Ian, Sammy and I look at each other puzzled and completely bewildered.
"Why would he make up a story like that?" Sammy asks. "I thought he would have been drooling at the bit to out you guys."
"Yeah me too." I say. This isn't making any sense."
Just then Steve walks past our table, his nose heavily bandaged, both eyes blackened. He goes to the far end of the tables, way back in the corner by himself and sits. He glances towards us then down at his lunch. Steve always had a certain cockiness about him. It's missing.
"What do you think is going on guys? And he's not even sitting with his usual cronies." Sammy says.
"Maybe he's waiting for later." Ian suggests.
"I don't think so Ian. I don't think so. He's a dick at times but he is not that clever. He just spouts off in the moment without thinking. He's not really a planner." I reply.
"He's always a dick to me. He keeps trying to come up with new names for me. But you're right, he's not terribly creative. All pasta. Hey guys, am I gorgeous today?" Sammy asks with a huge smile. "God I hope this stuff works. It feels really tingly when I put it on and it smells like shmaltz but if it works who cares?"
Seeing Sammy smile like that helps me to relax a bit. Maybe Steve just decided to keep his mouth shut for a change. Maybe Ian taught him a lesson.
The rest of the day was typical without any surprises. After my last class, physics, my favourite, I went to the front office to pick up my job list for the week. A couple of small outside group assemblies. Great I get paid for those. And they are during school hours so a breeze. I meet Ian at the car, Sammy is standing with him. It's a nice sunny day but the sun is beginning to wane. A bit of a crisp chill in the air.
"Hi guys? Anything?" I inquire.
"Nothing, I'm still surprised." Says Ian.
"Get in Sammy." Ian instructs.
"Oh no thanks, cool, but I like to walk. Gives me time to think and I like it when the temperature starts to drop like this. See you guys tomorrow." Sammy turns and walks off.
Arriving home minutes later I turn to Ian. "For dinner sweetie I was..."
"No...no,no,no,no. Tonight I am making you dinner. I looked through your recipe books and found something I know I can do. You go and relax, watch tv and I will get started." Ian insists. The time he has been spending with Harold has been a real gift to his self esteem. He's beginning to realize he is not dumb. He was just always made to believe that.
Getting out of my school clothes I put on our uniform. So comfy. Hey maybe I should get some Starfleet uniforms made. Just a thought. Then I do as Ian suggested and turn on the early news. Wow, some nun has become a small town mayor. Elections in India. Carter gave a ton of money to Chrysler. Weather expected to be decent throughout the week but we are expecting freezing rain all weekend. How very special.
"Chris. Chris." I hear Ian's voice. Shit I dozed off.
"Coming honey." As I run to the kitchen, pausing momentarily to take a deep inhale. Wow. "God that smells good Ian." giving him a kiss. "What is is?"
"Sit my dear. Cabernet Sauvignon?" Ian asks as he pours. "Meatloaf with a brown sugar tomato glaze, whipped garlic potatoes, garlic bread and some sweet corn." Ian says as he places in front of me a plate that not only gives off the most wondrous aromas but I can see he has taken the time to plate it to look its best as well.
"This looks and smells amazing Ian." As I go to take a bite see him watching me anxiously, how sweet, oh god what if it tastes like shit? Thankfully... "This is delicious Ian, better than when I made it. Did you change anything?"
"Not really but I did add something to the meatloaf that isn't in the recipe. Remember you said the one thing that makes all food perfect?" He asks.
"Butter." We state in unison.
We eat in silence for a few minutes just enjoying our meal. Ian did a top notch job. He even cleaned up all of the pots and pans before we sat down. He lit candles. I am so lucky.
"Wow a lot of garlic but I love it." I tell Ian. How did you know to pair it with the Cabernet?"
Ian grabs my cookbook and turns to the recipe page. At the top of the page in my hand were the letter CS. Clever lad.
"And the garlic, well, with Sammy's sweet ass running around here I thought if you stink that bad he won't go near you." Ian laughs. "What?" as he sees my face go blank. "Just kidding, I know neither one of us has anything to worry about. But it would be nice if Sammy could meet someone. Don't you have like that gaydar thing? Can't you tell if any of the other guys are good prospects?"
"Ian for Christ sake. That's just stupid." I snap a bit. Guilt? There was no gaydar with Sammy. That was something very personal. A look I recognized from my own mirror.
"Well it would be nice." Ian says a bit confused.
"Yeah I know, sorry just cranky for some reason." I say. "I guess waiting to be shit on stressed me out."
"Well I may have something to fix that." Ian says handing me a folded card. "Look at the clock. Wait ten minutes and then read the note." With that he was out the door and headed to the Quonset hut.
What could he have in mind? Oh it is so tempting but I rather impatiently wait the ten minutes and then open the card.
`Chris, I am your mechanic. You just found out I have been stealing from you and fucking your wife. There is only one way for me to keep my job. I'm waiting. Ian.'
What the fuck? Oh god, I remember him browsing the section on role play. Running to the door I enter the code. The heavy door swings opens slowly without a sound. Harold keeps it well greased. Straining to see I notice a dim work light, gently swaying, far in the back, casting eerie, dancing shadows throughout the vast expanse. I slowly make my way towards the light, still unable to make out clearly what lay ahead. "Ian?" I call, my voice echoing. Nothing.
Now I am close enough to see and sweet Jesus what a sight. Bent over a workbench is my Ian. In the dim light slowly swinging above I see that he is covered in grease, dirt, and sweat. The smell of the grease tickles my nostrils. His ass is at the level of the bench, greasy and facing me. I make my way around him. He looks up at me, a terrified look in his eyes. His hands are bound to the bench, have to find out how he did that, and there is a rag stuffed in his mouth. I yank the rag out.
"Please sir, I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Please. I know you're angry but you don't want to do this. I'm not a fag. Please you can't rape me." Ian begs and pleads. He's playing this well. I should too. Stuffing the rag back in his mouth I give him a slap across the face.
"Steal from me? Fuck my wife? Who the fuck do you think you are you little greasy punk. You thought you could fuck me over? Well now. Just look at you." I say dripping with condescension. "Your ass just begging for my cock. Is that it you punk ass faggot? You want me inside you?" I laugh maniacally. "Like I fucking care what you want." Another loud smack, the sound echoing through the large building, bringing more tears to his eyes. Was that too hard?
I make my way behind him. The thoughtful bastard has placed a step stool there for me. Gotta thank him later. Maybe a nice hot chocolate with the little marsh...oh for fuck sake.
Stepping up I drop my sweats. I am already fully primed and as I spread Ian's luscious cheeks I notice he is fully lubed and ready for action.
"So you want to know what it is like to get fucked you piece of shit?" leaning in close. "It feels like this."
I push myself as far into Ian as I can. His ass clenches around me. God he is so tight. A muffled guttural groan comes from Ian's gagged mouth. I decide if Ian wants this little fantasy then I should play it up too. How would this `boss' act? So Ian gets a very hard pounding. I'm not giving a single thought to how he feels. Not leaving him time for a breath. I reach around and pull the rag from his mouth. I want to hear him scream. And boy am I rewarded. He bellows and roars. Screaming and moaning. Begging me to stop. Looking up I notice a shard of broken mirror in which I can see the reflection of his face. Smeared with grease I see the agony in his eyes but the lust as well. His face contorted in pain but almost with a hint of a smile.
I grab him by the hair, jerking his head back. "If you ever fuck with me again you dumb fuck I will have your balls for dinner." I continue thrusting into him, being as aggressive in my actions as I can, bringing more yelps of pain.
With one last deep push I blow my load deep inside Ian. I yell. Squirt after squirt until I collapse on top of him.
We just stay there stuck together in silence for a few minutes until Ian begins to giggle.
"You can have my balls for dinner anytime Chris." He laughs. "Fuck that was a blast. Thanks for playing along."
"Fuck look at us. We better shower in here." I mention.
The powerful shower in the shop combined with the degreaser has us clean in no time. We then gather our things and head back to the house.
We sit down by the fire with a couple of steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows in abundance. "So," I ask, "where pray tell, did that come from?"
"I was reading about playing different characters, well I figured out from the pictures." Ian explains.
"It's called role play and it was wild." I tell him. "Sorry about the smacks though."
"No that was great. Next time we do this, not all the time but, more and harder." He grins.
"God I love you. Full of surprises." I tell him. I'm amazed at our discovery of the very fine boundary between pleasure and pain. One that is sometimes fun to cross. I don't think I want to do this all the time but it is nice to have in our repertoire for, let's say, special occasions.
We sit and watch some crappy tv and later head off to bed. Really after that encounter the rest of the night and really the week were pretty uneventful. Nothing ever came from the kerfuffle with Steve but I am still puzzled why he put the blame on his dad. I guess we can close that book.
Which then brings us to Saturday or `Sammyday' as we know it now. Sammy was working hard on a few group assignments and we haven't seen much of him. I'm looking forward to this evening. Finishing the breakfast cleanup I smile seeing Ian in his work clothes two cups of hot coffee in his hands waiting for Harold. And there he is. The two of them head into the shop. Confidentially Harold told me he has never seen anyone take to this like Ian. Especially for the Jags. Harold has seen Ian caress and whisper to them while he is working. I hope Ian takes pride in what he is doing. These are finicky vehicles.
I start to think about tonight's dinner. Probably roast chicken. The phone rings.
"Hello, oh hi Sammy."
"Hey Chris, tonight is still on right?" Sammy asks.
"Of course Sammy, why?" I ask.
"Don't plan dinner. I'm bringing a surprise." he says.
"Ummm, okay." I say. "I like surprises."
"Cool, see you at five." and he hangs up.
That is a nice surprise. I love to cook but it's nice to have a day off.
Later Ian and I are refreshed, ready and watching the clock. Five pm.
`DING' We laugh.
Opening the door we see poor Sammy burdened with two backpacks and a large green cooler chest with more containers stacked on top.
"Oy, this is heavy. Give me a hand guys." he says.
As we grab things from Sammy, Ian, lifting the cooler says, "Holy shit Sammy, it's only the three of us."
"I'm a Jew. We have a thing about food. Come on in the kitchen and let me explain all of this." Sammy says.
"You two sit." Sammy instructs as he begins to set out a range of containers on the counter. Bustling he gets everything into either pots, pans or the oven and takes a seat.
"Well, notice any changes?" he asks.
I study his face. Jesus. It has been less than a week and there are changes. The redness is mostly gone and some of his larger pimples seem to be a bit smaller.
"There are changes Sammy. Holy shit. It's working." I confirm.
"I know. I can't believe it. It is only a little change so far but the best thing is, no new zits. It's so cool. Anyways, my mom was so happy that she made this for us to celebrate. I was going to tell my mom the story Ian made up about the free drug trial but well, not sure if you guys are familiar with something called guilt? My people specialize in it. Anyway I simply explained that it is not charity. It's an amazing gift from my two best friends. When she heard me say `best friends' she kvelled, started crying and running around the kitchen. This is the result. You guys are in for a treat."
And boy are we. We start with the matzo ball soup. Oh, this is outstanding. Dear god how can anything be so perfectly flawless? I think I may have just found the perfect food. We have brisket, slow roasted for hours, kugel, latkes, noodles. My gut is busting.
"That was really good, like incredible." says Ian.
"Yeah my mom is a pretty good cook, remember the picture I showed you when we first met Chris?" Sammy asks.
My thoughts go back. "Yeah you were kind of a chubby kid before you moved here."
"That's why I work out. At least it's something I can control right? When a Jewish mother puts food in front of you there are no questions. You eat. And when you are finished and full, if seconds are offered the only acceptable answer is yes." says Sammy.
We sit in the den with our Cuba Libres and pass a joint between us. I put the tape in the VCR and take my place on the sofa. The three of us cuddled under the blankets.
"What are we watching tonight?" Sammy asks.
"The Exorcist and The Omen." I reply, settling in for some scares and screams.
Several exhausting hours later we are finishing up another doob when the doorbell rings, and rings, and rings, followed by pounding on the door.
"Who the fuck could that be?" says Ian as we all go to the front door. "Stay behind me."
Ian opens the door cautiously at first to see who this could be, this late.
Oh my god. Standing in front of us, soaked to the skin in freezing rain is Steve. His tall, skinny body is completely drenched, his shirt torn with bloodstains. He has only one shoe, there are marks on his face and blood dripping down from his forehead. He is panting, struggling to form his words, tears streaming down his face. His entire body is shivering violently.
"Please help me, he's chasing me." Steve pants as he collapses into Ian's arms.
We pull him inside and close the door, ensuring it is triple locked.
"Sit him on the steps for a minute Ian." I suggest.
After a few minutes Steve's breathing slows.
"Ian, take Steve into the shower. Not too hot, just warm. Get him cleaned up. He can sit by the fire. I'll grab a bathrobe."
I figure that since they both play sports, and are used to showering together, Steve would be more comfortable with Ian and I didn't want to take a chance on him falling.
While waiting Sammy and I are trying to figure out what is going on. It's late, the weather is shit, and Steve comes knocking on our door.
"What the fuck happened to him Chris? He looked terrified and someone laid a beating on him. Maybe his mouth got him into trouble again." Sammy suggests.
Ian and Steve enter the room. Steve's head is down. His bright red hair looking a lot better than it did a few minutes ago. His face is washed but the marks remain. He is staring and picking at his fingers. His toes gripping at the rust orange shag carpet. Occasionally biting his nails. We all sit in silence.
"Thanks guys." comes a voice barely above a whisper. Then he starts to tremble, tears forming in his eyes.
"Fuck! What the fuck am I going to do now? My mom's in jail, my dad beat the shit out of me and threw me out of the house. In this fucking weather. The he started following me, splashing me with his car. Yelling out his window that he wishes I was dead. I know this is one house he won't ever expect me to be in. He will bang on the door of every one of my teammates hunting me down. Thanks again. And hey, Ian. I'm really sorry about last week. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I deserved the punch. I was jonesing a bit, needed to chill. My dad has been hitting the bottle even more lately and hitting me every time he drinks. It used to be mom. Look at me. My dad is probably twice my weight. Fighting back is pointless. I didn't know where to go. It felt like I was running for hours. I lost my fucking shoe somewhere. Then I saw your house. I didn't see dad behind me so I ran as fast as I could. Fuck guys. If you hadn't let me in. I really didn't think you would and I was just going to try and hide on your property somewhere. I can't believe you are so nice to me. I've been a total jerk to you guys. Especially you Sammy. Sorry." Steve unloads.
We chat for a bit. It's surprising what you discover about someone when you take the time to listen. Steve has been through a rough patch recently. Well the last three years. His mom is serving time for theft, battery and resisting arrest, leaving him alone with a drunk father. His dad blames Steve because she was stealing shoes and clothes for him. He grew six inches and a couple of shoe sizes in just a few months. Their house is ramshackle and leaks. Half the time the heat doesn't work because his dad forgets to get gas. The electricity is out most times too. Food is scarce and Steve admits he has resorted to digging through the grocery store dumpster. Fuck, my grocery store. No wonder the kid is a rail.
"Are you hungry?" Sammy inquires enthusiastically.
"Starving." Steve replies.
Sammy runs off to the kitchen.
"Thanks again guys for letting me warm up but I better go find somewhere to crash. Maybe the shelter has room." Steve says.
"You're not going anywhere Steve. If I'm guessing correctly in a few minutes Sammy will be returning with a steaming bowl of the best fucking soup you have ever tasted. Then some drinks, some weed. You're here for the night. You can stay in the guest room." I tell him.
"Sure, I'll crash in here tonight." says Sammy handing Steve a bowl of soup.
Steve devours the entire bowl without speaking. Noticing this Sammy goes to make a brisket sandwich returning to offer it to Steve.
When he is full Steve says. "Okay guys, like I get that you might let me in so I don't die on your front step but you're treating me like we're friends. I don't understand. My friends aren't this nice to me."
"That's because you are always shooting your mouth off Steve." says Sammy, looking surprised at his own words.
"I know, but my mouth moves faster than my brain. And again Sammy. I'm really, especially sorry about the names I called you. Do you want to break my nose?" He asks with a jovial laugh. "And I should know better. Look at my fucking clown hair. I get called names constantly and there are a couple of guys that bully me at school. Guess I earned that."
"They bully you because of your red hair?" Sammy asks surprised. "I think it is really cool. Like even when you're a dick I think you have the coolest hair in school. Speaking of dicks, is the colour the same down there?" Dear god Sammy. No censor.
"Flaming red," replies Steve. `Like my crotch is on fire." We all laugh at the image. "And I'm so white. I can't tan, just burn."
"I think it looks cool Steve." says Sammy. It looks really cool, with your red hair. Like you are really pale and your hair is so bright."
Is Sammy crushing on Steve? Gotta admit. Without the ball cap and the attitude and well, he usually doesn't smell too great, I now know why, he's kinda cute. Careful Sammy.
"Gee, thanks Sammy. No one has ever said that to me before. You really think it looks good?"Steve asks.
Before he can answer, a bit wary of Sammy's direction, I tell Ian to blaze up. We have a few drinks and a couple of doobies and then just chill.
"So have you ever had sex?" Sammy asks Steve. Ian and I look at each other about to burst.
"What?" Steve sputters.
"You know, have you ever had sex, with anyone?" he asks again.
"Well, guys, like, I don't really want to talk..."
"Ian, Sammy? Shall we induct him?" I ask.
They both nod, Steve looks at me questioningly.
"Steve. Ian, Sammy and I have an agreement. Anything we say or do within these walls stays between us. We take each others' secrets to the grave. Do you wish to join us?" I ask.
Steve looks at each of us, puzzled. "You guys would allow me to be part of this? I don't get it."
"Don't bother trying to figure it out Steve, just say yes." Ian tells him.
"Then yes." Steve says, slightly misty eyed.
"Oh just a sec." Says Sammy leaving the room and returning a few minutes later holding something behind his back. "You may have noticed something about the three of us Steve." As he motioned to our matching wardrobe. "These are for you." handing him a pair of his own navy blue sweats and the grey t shirt. "Put these on and you are officially in."
"Okay, wow, I gotta piss, I'll get changed and be right back." Steve says.
"Shit." Sammy mumbles quietly.
He returns looking quite splendent. "So how do I look guys." as he spins.
"You look like you belong," Ian says causing Steve to choke up a bit. I think on that for a moment. Have to give it more time later. How much it means to each of us to `belong.' To someone or something.
"So now I can tell you guys anything and it stays secret with us?" Steve asks.
"Anything you say or do Steve. If you want to dance, sing, whatever, it stays here." Ian tells him.
"Yeah, even if you want to run around nude." adds Sammy.
"Wow guys, I just feel so good you know? Actually for the first time in years I think I'll be able to sleep tonight without worrying my dad is going to kill me. What's happening?"
"It's the house," says Ian, "don't question it."
"It's the people in the house." I admonish.
`Wow, okay well, Sammy, no, I'm a virgin. The only thing I get action with is my hand." Steve admits. "I've never even kissed a girl...or anyone."
"Cool, like me." Sammy tells him. "Are you circumcised? Ian and Chris aren't. I am."
"Ummm well," Steve looks totally taken aback. " I know that about Ian, we see each other in the showers, I didn't know that about Chris. And now I know about you. My dad wanted me to `look like him' so I'm circumcised. Wow Sammy, thank you for this most bizarre conversation." Causing us all to laugh.
"This is just the beginning." Ian says.
"Help me with this Ian." as I begin taking the cushions off the sofa bed.
"Wow guys thanks for this. It looks really comfy. And the fire is so nice. This is going to be a great sleep." Steve says.
"Oh no Steve." says Sammy. "You're sleeping in the guest room. I'm crashing here."
"Well it's big enough for both of us isn't it?" Steve asks. "The fire is so nice."
I look at Ian, Ian looks at Sammy. I look at Sammy, Sammy looks at Steve. Sammy looks back at me.
"Ummm, sure, cool, I don't mind sharing." says Sammy.
"Okay then guys we'll see you in the morning." I say as I take Ian's arm and lead him to our room.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on there?" asks Ian.
"I know, I thought Sammy was going to jump Steve right there." I reply.
"No, no, not that. Steve. Don't you find it strange that he wants to share rather than have his own bed? He never mentioned switching, just sharing." Ian says.
My boy is getting observant. He's right. "Maybe he just needs to be near someone Ian. Not everyone is as pervy as us remember." I say.
"Maybe, I've known Steve for a long time and I've never seen this side of him. He's nice. Like, I like him. I don't like him at school. He's a completely different guy. But he's really decent. Is it you that does this to people Chris? You bring out the best?"
"I don't know Ian. I'm still learning to not judge people too harshly. A day ago I would never have imagined that we would be friends with Steve. But I like him too. It's like he's a completely different person." I reply.
We climb into bed and snuggle.
"If anything does happen between Sammy and Steve, Sammy is in for a treat." Ian says.
"Meaning?" I ask.
"Well you know my nickname on the team, monster cock." Ian says.
"Yeah, I heard that. How creative. What is Steve's nickname?" I ask.
"The Red Menace. Night night." he informs me leaving me to stare at the ceiling in disbelief and some concern for Sammy.