Hello Everyone! You asked for it and here it is! (or at least half of it...keep reading...)
The Ian and Justin SPIN OFF Series!
Posted below you will read the beginning of Ian and Justin's love story as began in Speech and Debate, my original series here where we all fell in love with David and Daniel.
Now, it's time for a little change.
This story is told from Justin's point of view. This means, you get the tale from the Nerd's side of things, similar to the David and Daniel stories. If you are interested in hearing some other voices...perhaps the story told from the Jock point of view...
just go to my author page here and read how that can happen!
I hope you enjoy this book and that I'll hear from you all in the comments.
Go to my author page!
All my best-
D A Mackey
DISCLAIMER: The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
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Bull & Swan: The Ian and Justin Chronicles Book 1: Uncharted Territories Justin's Point of View
by D A Mackey
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Nothing I did made any difference.
I was utterly powerless. No amount of reasoning or logic had worked in my favor. I pulled out every Socratic argument trick I knew in order to try and convince them. I argued passionately in my own defense and put up a theory of the case that I, in all of my eighteen years of vast life experience, knew to be worthy of any court in the land. Alas, no matter what I said, no matter the number of cogent and thought out points I made with tears brimming in my eyes, nothing swayed my parental units. Even an appeal to the pathos of the injured offspring did not move their stony hearts and fell on deaf ears.
And so, despite the obvious impediments to my own mental and physical safety and emotional well-being, which I laid out in detail before my captors/judges (alias: Mom and Dad,) there I was: in the middle of the forrest somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains on an overly hot late spring day in the Southern United States, surrounded by four dozen "peers," the vast majority of whom couldn't tell you my first and last name if shown my picture and offered a monetary reward despite having been in the same classroom as me for the past 13 years.
My tent, borrowed by my father from my least favorite cousin (a large and unruly lot to choose from --the Irish are prolific breeders,) was pitched off by itself in a spot I deemed to be as secluded and apart from the others as it was reasonably possible to be while still remaining actually ON the school camping trip. I guess I had no choice but to make the best of this bad situation. The two dozen or so bug bites already forming on my pale legs and arms stood as a living testament to my torturous misfortune. I am not normally one for overly dramatic complaining, but I was one small step away from a full on melancholy "woe is me," moment. Was there ever such a horribly put upon teenager in upper middle class America as myself? Nay, I tell thee!
The shrill whistle called us all to the central fire pit area. (I silently cursed myself for not remembering the whistle argument when debating my parents: the whistle was an instrument of PTSD considering I was a nerd and therefore Physical Education and the whistle were like weapons to me. Damn.)
I, as per usual, stood in the back of the group, trying mightily to make myself as small as humanly possible. For a few years now, this had proved to be no small task, being as my body had decided to settle on the over six foot lanky side after the horrors of puberty, damning me to a life of being all elbows and knees, long lithe limbs and a naturally skinny frame with visible rib bones.
I couldn't tell you the instructions the Coach of the football and baseball teams, leader of this glorious extravaganza, laid out for us. I couldn't even remember his actual name. It was a letter, I was pretty sure. (Coach K? No, that wasn't right. D? F?) Anyhow, it hardly mattered. I was sure I would hear it mentioned somewhere along the line over the course of the torture exercises -- a.k.a. weekend.
(Okay, so maybe I'm a little more predisposed to the dramatic than I'm generally willing to admit.)
I found that it was easiest to not pay too close attention. To much of anything. My mind tended to obsess when I focused. If I just tagged along and didn't make too much noise or put up any resistance, if I just let life happen to me however it saw fit, I usually got along and came out the other side with only minor scrapes and bruises. There were others of my social class who hadn't learned that lesson-- other nerds who would stand up to the system, rage against the injustice that came with being above average in intelligence. For all of their protest, all I ever saw it glean them was one humiliating beat down after another. How many times did one need to be thrown into a fountain or slammed into a locker before one learned to just shut your mouth and keep your head down? Pay them no mind, ignore their existence, do your best to ignore your own, and everyone got along just fine. It wasn't exactly a pleasureful life, certainly not an overly social one, but it was largely free of unnecessary angst.
I was somewhere near the very back of the long line of classmates as we trudged along a well trodden path towards the peak of the morning's outing. Behind me were parent volunteers and chaperones. Ahead, a group of the super popular guys. Four of them, and a strange addition I hadn't seen in their midst before.
Daniel was wearing ridiculously short shorts. Something out of a 70's era porno flick, if you happened to enjoy such things.
(I, myself, didn't really particularly care for pornography in general, regardless of the era of production.)
His thighs looked about ready to tear the fabric at the seams. His legs were bigger around than my torso. How on earth did someone get that...huge?! No matter what I ate, I never seemed to gain an ounce. But Daniel was wider across his shoulders than I was tall, or so it seemed. What must it be like to live in a body like that? Was it heavy? Did it feel like you were always Godzilla destroying the city beneath your massive weight? And what about the BODYHAIR? Didn't it get caught on things? Daniel had more hair on his legs than I had on my head, or so it seemed. Not to mention the dark shadows of buzzed black chest hair. I had only just recently plucked out my lone chest hair. It took me nearly three minutes to find the thing -- blonde hair tends to disappear at the right angles in most light.
Then again, compared to Ian, the beast that trudged along beside him, Daniel almost looked small. That boy, (the term hardly fit him despite his mere 18 or 19 years) was easily the size of two grown men. I shivered thinking about what that massive body was capable of. Things that I struggled to attempt he didn't even have to think about.
The newcomer to their foursome of popularity was who captured my attention.
He was "one of us." One of the nerd brigade. If we nerdy types had had much of a social group together at school, he probably would have been elected as the Leader of the Nerds based on his GPA and intellect alone.
Did social friend groups elect leaders? I'm unsure how that would work. But either way, what on earth was David doing with the jock set? He was Valedictorian for Christ's sake! If you asked me, I would never admit it, but I was always a little jealous of David. Everything came easy to him. He was a good student, of course, but he never seemed to try as hard as I did, and yet he beat me in nearly every academic metric. Not by much, mind. But still, he was gifted.
I had picked up some rumors regarding some kind of kerfuffle that had happened between David and Amy back at Prom. I hadn't gone, of course. Why would I? I'm no dancer ( not with this unruly assortment of limbs and joints) and, to be honest, I already felt like I was forced to spend too much time in the presence of these people as it was. Why would I spend a Friday night with them as well? Of my own free will. No, thank you.
Either way, Amy did seem to be a bit of a pariah recently, socially speaking. As much attention as I paid to such things, at least.
