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Summer Story part 18
Updatey stuff, this bit is two, maybe three parts--catching up with Whit before we find out what's up with Lex.
Ooooo--what's that I see? Does it look like...shore? Could it be this boat is finally sailing in to harbor? Could be, could be.
Previous Parts are here, eyeballing your curtains and wondering if Rhett would like them in polk-dotted yellow and orange.
Summer Story
Whit looked up one side of the street and down the other and tried not to jitter. Why the hell he was so nervous he had no idea. Charlie was just a guy, right? No big deal, he knew guys. It wasn’t like he was something special—nice yeah, but no reason to get all goofy.
“Man.” He exhaled a sharp blast of air and rocked on his heels. Messed with the sunglasses in his hand, jammed them on his nose. If Charlie didn’t show up, he was going to look like an asshole standing out on the sidewalk like a little lost girl. He looked up the street towards the Beanery. Maybe he should just go there—why didn’t he ask him to meet him there anyway? He was feeling on edge and his nerves jangled—he’d smoked a little weed to calm his nerves and the fucker was having the opposite effect—shit.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away from the Beanery, down the street away from the shops. He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have said yes when Charlie asked him to hang out. He should have gone with his instincts and refused. Obviously Charlie had come to his senses….
He was at the mouth of the alley where—where that fucker, where his dad died, when he heard a car horn behind him.
When he turned Charlie was parked and getting out of his car. “Whitney! Didn’t you hear me? I beeped and yelled your name a couple of times. I hope you weren’t trying to be incognito, because I think I blew your cover big time,” he grinned, and slapped Whit on the back, Whit winced. He should let him know now that he didn’t mind not continuing with this very bad idea—let him escape.
“I’m late, sorry, but my mom had some things she wanted me to do.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes, parents, he seemed to say.
Whit nodded. “You don’t have to explain to me,” he said and moved out from under Charlie’s hand, smiling at him as he got into the car.
“Yes, I do,” Charlie said. “I asked you to meet me in town at a certain time and it was rude of me not to be on time. So, I apologize. It’s what you do when you screw up, right?” He grinned at Whit and a little shiver raced up his spine. God, he was cute, all bright blue eyes and bright white teeth, he thought. A fucking Marine poster boy, all right.
Back in the car and on the road, Charlie chatted on and on about inconsequential things and Whitney soaked it up like a sponge, loved hearing Charlie talk about his life—what being a Marine meant, how he enjoyed music still, but didn’t have the chance to play much anymore, what he was reading, talked a little about his mom and school and just average, normal everyday stuff—it made Whit feel pretty good.
“Hey, Whitney—how about going to the city? I feel like doing something different, not just burgers and a movie- let’s do something exciting. I think I can make it worth your while.” He looked at Whit with a sly smile, “You know your way around the city pretty good, right? You’ve been a lot with your friends?” and Whit sank down in his seat a bit, and some of the glow of the afternoon died.
“Sure, I’ve got nothing but time,” he shrugged, “Whatever you want is what I want.” A spot in his chest hurt a little and he rubbed it idly.
Charlie smiled, and laughed, “That’s an… interesting way to put it, very accommodating.” He chuckled and looked ahead, his too long fringe of hair blowing wildly about in the wind from the open car window. Whit felt as if all the warmth in him was being sucked up and spewed out the window with the wind and he shrugged. “Yeah? You think so? Can I turn up the radio?”
“Sure, go ahead,” he said and Whit turned it up loud enough to feel the bass in his bones, dropped his head against the seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Well, there you go. He didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t anymore. The guy was pretty as fuck and just like the others even if he hid it better. Whit looked over at him. He seemed genuinely nice though, he’d really been nice about his little break-down---but then again, people could be that way, put different parts of themselves in little boxes and let out what they wanted, when they wanted. Charlie looked over and at the look on Whit’s face he said, “My treat, since I asked you, okay?”
Whit grinned at him. “Your treat, my treat, it’s good, right?” Charlie nodded, his eyes on the road, but he took a hand off the wheel long enough to pat Whit’s knee before moving it back. Whit was confused for a second, he’d already slid lower in the seat, opened his knees so the guy could get to him, but maybe he didn’t like getting touchy feely. No problem. He could be comfortable now that he knew which way this was heading. He glanced over athim. What did he want, exactly? How did he want him to be? ---Should he just ask him?
He felt a pang of nervousness; he was getting no clues from the guy. Look at him—you’d never know… Whitney’s mind skittered and jumped from thought to thought, and his leg jittered up and down and he chewed on his lip. Oh well, might as well find out what the deal was—he tossed his sunglasses to the floor of the car and leaned closer to the guy.
“Hey! You want me to blow you?”
Charlie looked at him. “What? I didn’t hear you-I think…”
Whit leaned closer and put his hand over the guy’s crotch, and squeezed lightly. “You want me to blow you?”
There was a hot knot in the center of Whit’s chest, and a big grin on his face. The guy looked at him and winced, looked angry for a moment. He nudged Whit back to his side of the car.
“Please don’t do that while I’m driving… in fact, don’t *do* that.”
Whit smiled and leaned back, spread his knees slightly and rested his hands over his crotch.“You want something else? Or, what, not in the car? We can pull over—fuck it’s just gonna be corn for the next billion miles,” he smirked and unhooked his belt so he could face Charlie better, ran his hands over the insides of his thighs and waited for clues, waited for Charlie to tell him what to do next. He was getting worried, scared. He’d played it wrong maybe. Maybe, he was supposed to wait for the guy to make the move…fuck. It was a long walk home….
TBC
Ooooo--what's that I see? Does it look like...shore? Could it be this boat is finally sailing in to harbor? Could be, could be.
Previous Parts are here, eyeballing your curtains and wondering if Rhett would like them in polk-dotted yellow and orange.
Summer Story
Whit looked up one side of the street and down the other and tried not to jitter. Why the hell he was so nervous he had no idea. Charlie was just a guy, right? No big deal, he knew guys. It wasn’t like he was something special—nice yeah, but no reason to get all goofy.
“Man.” He exhaled a sharp blast of air and rocked on his heels. Messed with the sunglasses in his hand, jammed them on his nose. If Charlie didn’t show up, he was going to look like an asshole standing out on the sidewalk like a little lost girl. He looked up the street towards the Beanery. Maybe he should just go there—why didn’t he ask him to meet him there anyway? He was feeling on edge and his nerves jangled—he’d smoked a little weed to calm his nerves and the fucker was having the opposite effect—shit.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away from the Beanery, down the street away from the shops. He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have said yes when Charlie asked him to hang out. He should have gone with his instincts and refused. Obviously Charlie had come to his senses….
He was at the mouth of the alley where—where that fucker, where his dad died, when he heard a car horn behind him.
When he turned Charlie was parked and getting out of his car. “Whitney! Didn’t you hear me? I beeped and yelled your name a couple of times. I hope you weren’t trying to be incognito, because I think I blew your cover big time,” he grinned, and slapped Whit on the back, Whit winced. He should let him know now that he didn’t mind not continuing with this very bad idea—let him escape.
“I’m late, sorry, but my mom had some things she wanted me to do.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes, parents, he seemed to say.
Whit nodded. “You don’t have to explain to me,” he said and moved out from under Charlie’s hand, smiling at him as he got into the car.
“Yes, I do,” Charlie said. “I asked you to meet me in town at a certain time and it was rude of me not to be on time. So, I apologize. It’s what you do when you screw up, right?” He grinned at Whit and a little shiver raced up his spine. God, he was cute, all bright blue eyes and bright white teeth, he thought. A fucking Marine poster boy, all right.
Back in the car and on the road, Charlie chatted on and on about inconsequential things and Whitney soaked it up like a sponge, loved hearing Charlie talk about his life—what being a Marine meant, how he enjoyed music still, but didn’t have the chance to play much anymore, what he was reading, talked a little about his mom and school and just average, normal everyday stuff—it made Whit feel pretty good.
“Hey, Whitney—how about going to the city? I feel like doing something different, not just burgers and a movie- let’s do something exciting. I think I can make it worth your while.” He looked at Whit with a sly smile, “You know your way around the city pretty good, right? You’ve been a lot with your friends?” and Whit sank down in his seat a bit, and some of the glow of the afternoon died.
“Sure, I’ve got nothing but time,” he shrugged, “Whatever you want is what I want.” A spot in his chest hurt a little and he rubbed it idly.
Charlie smiled, and laughed, “That’s an… interesting way to put it, very accommodating.” He chuckled and looked ahead, his too long fringe of hair blowing wildly about in the wind from the open car window. Whit felt as if all the warmth in him was being sucked up and spewed out the window with the wind and he shrugged. “Yeah? You think so? Can I turn up the radio?”
“Sure, go ahead,” he said and Whit turned it up loud enough to feel the bass in his bones, dropped his head against the seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Well, there you go. He didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t anymore. The guy was pretty as fuck and just like the others even if he hid it better. Whit looked over at him. He seemed genuinely nice though, he’d really been nice about his little break-down---but then again, people could be that way, put different parts of themselves in little boxes and let out what they wanted, when they wanted. Charlie looked over and at the look on Whit’s face he said, “My treat, since I asked you, okay?”
Whit grinned at him. “Your treat, my treat, it’s good, right?” Charlie nodded, his eyes on the road, but he took a hand off the wheel long enough to pat Whit’s knee before moving it back. Whit was confused for a second, he’d already slid lower in the seat, opened his knees so the guy could get to him, but maybe he didn’t like getting touchy feely. No problem. He could be comfortable now that he knew which way this was heading. He glanced over athim. What did he want, exactly? How did he want him to be? ---Should he just ask him?
He felt a pang of nervousness; he was getting no clues from the guy. Look at him—you’d never know… Whitney’s mind skittered and jumped from thought to thought, and his leg jittered up and down and he chewed on his lip. Oh well, might as well find out what the deal was—he tossed his sunglasses to the floor of the car and leaned closer to the guy.
“Hey! You want me to blow you?”
Charlie looked at him. “What? I didn’t hear you-I think…”
Whit leaned closer and put his hand over the guy’s crotch, and squeezed lightly. “You want me to blow you?”
There was a hot knot in the center of Whit’s chest, and a big grin on his face. The guy looked at him and winced, looked angry for a moment. He nudged Whit back to his side of the car.
“Please don’t do that while I’m driving… in fact, don’t *do* that.”
Whit smiled and leaned back, spread his knees slightly and rested his hands over his crotch.“You want something else? Or, what, not in the car? We can pull over—fuck it’s just gonna be corn for the next billion miles,” he smirked and unhooked his belt so he could face Charlie better, ran his hands over the insides of his thighs and waited for clues, waited for Charlie to tell him what to do next. He was getting worried, scared. He’d played it wrong maybe. Maybe, he was supposed to wait for the guy to make the move…fuck. It was a long walk home….
TBC
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He seemed genuinely nice though, he’d really been nice about his little break-down---but then again, people could be that way, put different parts of themselves in little boxes and let out what they wanted, when they wanted.
I love how it takes a casual observation and extends it into a deeper exploration of the observer. Very neat.
And poor Whitney, all those thoughts of uncertainty buzzing through his mind at the end.
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Not a working linkie
*kisses*
Re: Not a working linkie
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Yay!
Yep, that's it. Thanks, sweetheart. ;)
*hugs*
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Aw, Whit
*Please* let Charlie be a good guy!
{{hugs}}
Re: Aw, Whit
*eyes you*
*eyes you again*
Lemee think about that for one, one millioneth of a second...
YES!
*g*
*crosses finegrs that Charlie is good for Whit and that Whit stays OUT of the military*
Why, yes. I do have a lot invested in Whitney remaining, oh, how shall we say it? ALIVE! *VBG*
*kisses*
Re: *eyes you*
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Poor baby thinks he needs to give sexual favours to anyone that's nice to him.
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