Steam Will Rise
Whoa! Some very persistent fan mail later, I find myself writing the instalment i never intend to write. Shout outs to Greck and Babykurt for their input, and lennart for dogging me back into the story. Enjoy as always, and feel to free to write me at webtrash@unpunk.com.
Oh yeah - get a hold of silverchair's Neon Ballroom and listen to it while you read this story (from part 1 again if you want)
Disclaimer: If ya liked fascist fuck 42 (in the gay celebs section), you'll preobably like this story as well.. and oh yeah, if the idea of two young dudes discovering their love/lust for eachother is too much fer yer puny head to come to grips with, bye bye :-D Characters are fictional but based on people I know (or, rather, people I wish I "knew" hehe). There is some violence and coarse language as part of the plot. Fan Mail to webtrash@unpunk.com
"increase delete/escape delete is all that matters to you
cotton case for an iron pill." -silverchair, emotion sickness.
-----Part 3.
Nick's mouth tasted like a fermented ashtray as the sun beat through the window on Saturday morning. His eyes were glued shut with sleep and for a few moments, he had to work out where he was. He rolled over, rubbing his eyes and bumped into something warm and solid. Now bewildered he forced his eyes open and, yep, there was Shane. Black hair messed up beyond belief, boxers skewiff, pale skin on his chest rising and falling as he breathed gently.
"Oi! Shane!" Nick urged gently, nudging his knee with his own. "F'koff. Wanna sleep." Nick shrugged and sat up on the mattress, reaching down to his bedside table for his pipe. He packed a cone and began to have a morning smoke. Shane's voice sounded again. "Yeah orrite. I'm getting up already." Nick grinned and turned to see the object of his affections crawl over and drape and arm over his shoulder. "Mornin', gee!" Nick said in his best homie voice. "In da house." Shane replied sleepily, motioning for the pipe. Nick felt really good. In spite of his general shittiness of a morning, he'd found this guy, this guy who liked him and wanted to be with him. It was hard not to smile.
There was a thudding down the hallway and the door flew open. His mother stood there, hands on hips in her fluffy pink nightgown, her eyes burning like diamonds in her eyes.
"Nick, you little shit! No smoking before breakfast! Now get your bum into gear, it's 10am and I want you to come down to the shops with me." Faye glanced at Shane and her face softened. "Good morning Shane. How did you sleep?" Nick grinned at his mother "I reckon we didn't sleep all that much, mum." "Ugh, Typical teenager."
There was a moments silence where Faye stretched and yawned soundlessly. In the distance, a dog barked. The kettle in the kitchen began to whistle.
"Who's having coffee?"
"This is surreal, yaknow?" Nick commented to his boyfriend as he spread butter thickly over his toast, his mother lighting an incense stick, the mysterious curls of opium smoke floating upwards with the steam from the kitchen sink. "What is?" Shane hadn't quite woken up. He wasn't a morning person, and was grudgingly avoiding having to call his father and 'report his whereabouts'. He looked up from the mug he was clutching, and into the shining eyes of Nick. "I've never brought a dude home before. And here we are, sitting here, having breakfast, my hand on yer leg." "But your hand isn't on my leg." "Better?" "Yeah. Better. To tell you the truth, I kinda like whats going on here. Good coffee, Mrs Harding." "Call me Faye." "Call her Faye, it's better like that."
The screen door smacked open and Damien walked in, smeared from grease and dirt from the workshop. "G'day mum, g'day Nick, g'day stranger sitting at kitchen table in his boxer shorts."
Shane blushed. "This is Shane, my " "- Gay lover?" Damo sneered, grabbing the box of Weetbix out of the cupboard. "Oh yeah, we spent all night fucking and we're going to see Cats tonight." Nick dryly replied, flicking a cigarette butt at his brother.
Nick's brother was a strange type. He got along well with him at times, and other times, they'd both end up in hospital from beating eachother. Things had been good lately, since Nick stopped going out at night to the X-Change looking for sex. Damien loved his brother, and wanted badly to accept him as gay, but wherever he went, he saw simpering fags, prancing around limp-wristed. They disgusted him, his stomach physically wretching as he walked past them in the street, at the shops, out on a Friday night. His brother couldn't be a fag. He ouwln't allow it. He loved his little brother, and had to protect him from their influence.
"Well, you look like a widow who just got fucked after a ten-year dry spell. Who's the lucky girl?" Nick sniggered, and Shane had now turned a deeper shade of red. "..... what?" Damien stepped away from the table, halfway through a dry weetbix from the box. ".....you're kidding, right?"
Faye was worried. She didn't know to handle this situation. "Damien, would you like a hot coffee?" "Nick, answer me. This is just a mate, isn't it? You're straight, like we talked about, aren't you?" Nick thought for a while. "Nah. I'm not. Best you learn to deal with it, bro."
Damien looked from Nick to Shane, and back again. Wordlessly, he stormed into his room and slammed the door. Pantera began to thud against the closed door.
"Well, I think that went well." Faye intoned sarcastically. Nick forced a smile, and turned to where Shane was visibly shaken. "Relax dude, he's harmless." He finished his coffee and leaned forward, licking the crumbs of toast off Shane's lips. Slowly and defenesively at first, Shane kissed back. A hand caressed his chest, and he felt the other grab at his wrist pulling them into a clumsy embrace. Nick's eyes opened and he noticed Shane watching him, happy, but -- trapped somehow.
The door banged open and the kitchen filled with distortion and double-kick in a sudden burst of music. "One more thing! Don't expect me to lend you my --- Oh give it a fucking rest!!!". The door slammed again, and Faye's nerves were shot to pieces. "Put your clothes on boys, we're going to the store. Now."
They got to Crossways Shopping Centre and his mother, dressed for the chilly morning in a heavy maroon leather jacket and jeans, pulled her hair into a ponytail, teeth clenching onto a menthol cigarette, got out of the station wagon.
"You want anything special from Coles?" she asked her son, also dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, shaven for the first time in weeks. He had lent Shane some old cargo pants and a Dead Kennedys shirt. They looked almost like a family, Nick thought, and winced at the pinch of mixed feelings this idea gave him. He was falling for Shane faster than ever before. This was more than a crush, more than sex. He found himself practically on Shane's lap the whole way there, not making out, not chatting away like a pair of schoolkids, just --- together. He couldn't even explain his feelings to himself, let along try to explain them to his mother, or Shane. As for Damien, that was a different story.
"Peter Stuyvesants, 25 pack. Oh, yeah, and -----" his voice broke off and he looked around to Shane, then around at the surrounding people in the carpark. "Well? C'mon, I want to be home for lunch..." "Um, you couldn't get me a tube of - a tube of ---" "He wants a tube of lube." Shane cut him off abruptly. The suspense was killing him. He instantly regretted saying it so loudly, an elderly couple turned and stared, then in hushed voices, hurried away.
Faye drew heavily on her cigarette to keep from laughing. His beautiful baby boy, asking for sexual aids in a shopping centre carpark. "Of course dear. I'll meet you outside the pharmacy in an hour." She winked at Shane and walked off, stopping only to check for her purse, keys, cigarettes, and keys again.
"Sorry." "Nah it's ok eh." "Nah that woulda been hell embarassing, I mean if I" Shane cut him off. "Look, shut up already. You're the retard who hasnt got the guts to fuck without the ol' KY." Nick fumed. Not out of anger or insult, because he couldn't think of a comeback. He thought of something better. "Come with me." "I beg your pardon?". Shane looked up from the CD's he was flipping through. "Come on, follow me." Nick stalked off down the shopping centre, Shane barely keeping up.
The made it to the public toilets and Nick looked around for anyone, licked his lips, and grabbed Shane by his shirt. "What the fuck?" Shane hissed, being dragged into a cubicle. 'Shut up! Want someone to hear us?" As if by some big cosmic joke, there was a loud, yapping squeak and the toilet door swung open. Nick and Shane held their breaths, Nick checking to ensure the cubicle was locked. Splashing sounds, a little old-man sigh. Flush. Footsteps. Again, the tired squeal of the door.
Nick looked up to see Shane holding his hands to his mouth, eyes watering. As soon as the door closed, he burst into laughter, sliding down onto Nicks laugh, choking with suppressed laughter.
He then calmed down, feeling Nick's hands slip up his shirt to his nipples, hardening under Nick's cool fingers. Shane shuddered, leaned forward and breathed a soft moan into nick ears, sending tiny bolts of electricity down Nick's neck. Nick's hand carressed his firm stomach, his hips, his forearms, and set about undoing the buttons on his cargo shorts. In silence, in anticipation, a mixture of nerves, excitement and a delayed morning hardon resulted in Shane's ample cock spring out, tenting his satin boxers before pushing through the unbuttoned slit. Precome dripped from the foreskin as Shane stood up, gently pressing his cock into Nick's mouth.
Nick was in ecstasy, but this was only the warmup. He gently chewed on the foreskin, licking up and down the shaft, feeling the cockhead slowly unravel into his waiting mouth. He smelt skanky and unwashed, but Nick was beyond caring. This was Shane, his Shane, and he was sucking his cockin the public toilet of a shopping centre on a Saturday morning. He licked down to the balls, one hand slipping into the back of his jeans, fingering his ass. He only managed one finger as Shane began to slowly fuck his mouth, his balls tight against the base in the crisp cold July air.
"oh yeah - oh man - oh yeah" Shane breathlessly moaned, Nick's warm mouth engulfing his shaft again and again... he was both suprised and disappointed when Nick pulled off and stood up, his jeans dropping to the floor. Nick spun around and put his hands on the cold tiles above the pan and turned to look Shane squarely in the eye.
"You were saying something about guts, cupcake?" Nick sneered, flexing his ass. Shane grinned and pushed his body against Nick's, his cock pressing into the back of the punk's leg. "I never fucked a guy before. Here goes."
Shane lifted his cock and began to push it into Nick in slow, careful strokes. He was suprised at how smooth and easily it slid in. It felt tight and hot and damp and righeter than anything that had preceded. He grabbed Nick's hips and slid the last few inches in, ramming them home with a little more force than necessary. "Oh, big man!" Nick taunted in a sarcastic whisper, "reckon you can keep that up?"
Shane bit his lip and began to fuck Nick in deep, hard movements, searching in vain for that spot they talked about, the prostate, which would send Nick off into a new level of pleasure. They fucked silently, ever vigilant for unwelcome visitors. Soon enough, the door creaked open and a familiar voice echoed through. It was Tyson and someone else, probably Jase, little filthy surfbrat with the swastika carved into his arm with a razor blade.
"Hehehe you got that right, mate. Hey check out this cock, is that big or what - no wonder I got all those chicks onto me last night." Tyson's disembodied voice bounced off the walls. "Shane was still deep inside him fucking in tiny movement to keep himself hard. Nick squinted through a crak in the division to watch Tyson. He had to grab his mouth to hold back a gasp. Tyson had the biggest, fattest flaccid dick he had ever seen in his life. He grabbed Shane's arm and pointed to the crack. Shane too wolfwhistled under his breath. They watched as Tyson finished pissing, then did something unexpected. He reached over to jase's cock and gave it a squeeze.
"Nah, not again mate, I'm tired from last night."
Shane pulled out of Nick and pulled his pants up, the moment gone, then sat on Nick's lap as they watched. "This is just too good." Nick mouthed to Shane, grinning as he watched Tyson, cherry-poppin' fag-bashin' extroadinaire, jack off Jase's stubby, uncut cock. Jase didn't seem impressed, and finally cracked under the pressure. "We'll get caught man. I'm bailing, see you out..." and vertiably ran for the door.
Tyson shrugged and rubbedhis own cock, which was now hard. It would have been well over eight inches and the kid was only fifteen. Nick grinned and motioned for Shane to get off him."
The door snapped open and Tyce turned around, in morbid shock. Nick looked at him, grinning. "Nice show, fag boy. If ya dont want me to share it with ya mates at school, I suggest you get your runt ass in this cubicle here."
"fuck you, faggot!" "Sure, got a condom? I saw you and that Jase kid. Now you can come quietly or I can make your life hell - oh, deja vu there isnt it?" Tyce stormed past him into the cubicle, and stopped dead when he saw Shane. "Fleming! You're a poof too?" Nick closed the cubicle door quietly, and gave Shane a conspirator's wink. "Nick, what we gonna do with poofter-boy here?" "Hush up, you. Tyce, I know why you give me so much shit." He pulled off his jacket and shirt, leaving his bare chest. Tyson's hands raised up to it, to touch the hot flesh. His cock, still hanging out, jumped. Nick reached down to grab it, squueze it.
"You want me, don't you?" The words cut, quiet as they were, through both Tyson and Shane. Tyson only nodded, hands pawing at his muscular chest, the result of months of obscessive sit ups and pushups when he was bored. "Once, just once. Get down on your knees and suck my cock, and it's over. And i never want to see or hear from you ever again." Shane got up and pushed the kid roughly to his knees and Nick pulled his cock out of his jeans.
The blowjob wasn't very good. Nick was bored shitless, and keep looking over Shane. Shane. This was probably making him guilty as all hell, but he had to get Tyson out of his hair.
Eventually, Tyson began to moan and curse under his breath, coming in his Adidas pants. He got up and stood, head tilted, expecting me to kiss him or something. "Go. Now." I barked, sharply, a tang of shame in my voice.
Tyson backed out of the cubicle and walked hastily across the tiles, leaving the bathroom. Shane got up, flushed the toilet and side stepped around Nick. "Hey dude- where you-" "Fuck you Nick, orrite? Fuck you."
If felt as if someone had dropped a kilo of lead into Nick's stomach. He paled and followed Shane out of the toilets, powerwalking to keep up, down past Dunkin' Donuts, Sussan's, Myer... "Wait up will you? C'mon dude" "Fuck off Nick - you made yer fuckin choice!" Nick was angry. He shoved Shane hard, and the shorter punk stumbled forward, before turning and rounding on him. "You wanna go, cunt?" Nick just shoved him again. "Your out of your fucking mind, Shane!" Shane hit him in the gut, hard. Security guards appeared from nowhere, holding them back and pulling them in headlocks towards the office.
Nick was crying tears of pain, confusion and anger. He hated the fucking world. He remembered their first kiss, sweaty and somehow pure, the night before. Silverchair invaded his head, and he heard, above everything...
"Maybe your luck has changed/Settle down
Maybe I'm just deranged/And on the rebound
Maybe love was thing holding me back from all
Maybe I'm just thing thing to break my own fall."
--- To be continued.
One cliched-cliffhanger later... i guess i gotta continue it now :-P
song lyrics appear courtesy of silverchair, (Murmur).