Stitcher - 1. The Backstory (Part One)

It’s funny how when you think your life is totally fucked up, something beautiful comes out of it. That something beautiful would be this three-month-old bundle of love named Eli Cameron Franklin.

Yeah, I’m Eli’s daddy. I’m just nineteen, and I have a baby boy. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It was Senior Prom. I didn’t want to take her. I wanted to go with Ian. Funny, just thinking about him still makes my heart skip a beat. But I guess I should take you back to the summer before my senior year so you’ll understand the whole, sordid story.

* * * * *

It was the start of a typical summer in New England. You could smell the ocean on the light breeze blowing through the air over Cape Cod. Like most of the upscale towns and villages on the Cape, there were basically two classes of people—those who didn’t have to work and those who did.

My Dad and I were part of the second group. Dad was a tailor and had a very successful shop on the main street in town. His clientele was mostly made up of the first group, except for the occasional working-class wedding—and during prom season, of course.

I was walking into the Public Library for lifeguard orientation. I mean, could there be a more perfect job than sitting out in the sun three or four days a week, working on your tan, making sure no one dies on your watch, and of course, there’s the hooking-up-with-the-hot-girls thing.

I was bored and excited to get started, so I ended up being the first one to get there. I went to the meeting room, and Victor Greenely was trying to get things set up for his presentation. Greenely—that’s what we all call him—was the swim coach and a history teacher at the high school. He’s heading up the town’s lifeguard program during the summer.

“Fuck! I hate this god-damned laptop!”

I just stopped at the door when I heard that. “Hey, Greenely! Need some help there?” I just laughed as I moved in to help my techno-stupid coach—teacher—boss. How did this dude even survive college? And then, what-the-fuck? He comes back to this God-forsaken town and starts teaching at the high school—twenty-three and teaching a bunch of kids that aren’t much younger than he is.

“Here, let me take a look-see.” I checked out the cables and the projector, and everything was good. I held down the function key, hit F4, and bam! We have a connection!

“Thanks, Cam. I hate that the city requires us to use this PC piece of crap. I’m a Mac guy through and through.”

“No worries, Greenely. Just glad I could help.” I turned around to take a seat and noticed we weren’t alone after all. Sitting back in the corner was a kid who looked up just as I turned around. Nice-looking dude, too. He had this great smile that made me walk toward him while smiling back. Weird. Why was my stomach getting all flip-floppy? It’s a dude. Dudes don’t do that for me!

“Hey, I’m Ian. Ian Greenely,” He held out his hand to shake mine.

“Greenely? As in—"

“Yeah, Vic is my cousin. Just moved up here last week to live with his family.”

Fuck me. I can’t stop looking into his eyes, and I’m still holding his hand. Snap out of it, Cam! “Oh, cool.” I find the will to let go of his hand. “I still don’t get why anyone moves to this damned town.”

“Well, that’s a long story, and maybe someday I’ll share it with you. But let’s just say this is a helluva lot better than where I came from.”

Before I could ask where that was, the other summer guards started to file into the meeting room. Just like in school, the girls took up the front row. They all seem to have this crush on Greenely. I don’t get it, but hey. The nine guys in the group took up the other three rows. Ian and I grabbed seats in the last row along with Carter Newman, one of the guys I knew from the swim team at school.

The meeting lasted about two hours. All this bullshit talk about rules and regulations and how to handle different situations that might come up. And, of course, there was the “no sex with the swimmers” rule, which made all of us giggle. Greenly let us know that we might find it funny now, but there will be temptation. Lots of it—from all directions.

Apparently, we weren’t even supposed to go out with them even when we were off work. It’s a small town, and after years of dealing with town gossip and inappropriate behavior, they just decided an abstinence policy was the best way to go.

Well, fuck! Why else would anyone want to be a lifeguard? Girls love guards. And here I was hoping to lose my virginity—finally! Ugh, don’t tell anyone that part. Everyone at school thinks I score all the time. Of course, I don’t see a reason not to let them think that!

The meeting ended up with us getting our uniforms. The girls got one-piece suits that looked just like the ones they wore on Baywatch—especially since they were also solid red. They were kinda pissed that the guys got red Speedos and board shorts. We apparently wear the Speedos under the shorts and peel the shorts off to work on our tans during our shifts. We also got a jacket for the cooler morning shifts. Then they gave us red (of course) backpacks to carry our shit in.

The meeting was pretty boring. But the weirdest thing would happen. Ian would shift in his chair, and his leg would brush up against mine. Most of the time, he would move it away pretty quickly, but a few times, he would leave his leg there.

Why the fuck did it feel so nice? Why did those feelings in my stomach start again? God, I’m not gay! I’m not into dudes. Even if they’re cute as fuck and have amazing eyes. What the fuck? I didn’t think that. Really.

Yeah, I could have moved my leg away—and I probably should have. But fuck me, it felt kinda nice. No, I’m not gay. Don’t even go there!

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I don’t have a problem with gay guys at all! It’s a pretty big deal in our family that we accept everyone for the people they are, not what they are. So even if I was gay—and I’m definitely not—my parents would love and accept me just the way I was.

After the meeting, they served up some refreshments. There was a tray of cookies and a large tray of raw veggies. Everyone loaded up on veggies, and the cookies were barely touched. The same went for the nasty fruit punch—not touched. Bottled water—wiped out.

Ian and I sat down with our munchies and started talking. I told him all about this Hell they call Barnstable. How, like I told you in the beginning, that there are two groups of people, those who work and those who don’t. How the only time any of the richies (as we call them) end up at the public high school is when they fuck up and get thrown out of private school.

Because of the way I had been raised, I really don’t judge the richies. It’s not their fault that their families are loaded. So most of them think I’m their friend. And a few of them really are.

Ian told me about being a guard the last two summers and couldn’t wait to get his summer tan back on. He was a guard at a private country club, so he could start when he was 16. Here, you had to be 18 to work at the community pool. I guess private clubs could do what they wanted, but the city had its rules.

I asked him if there was anything else that was different, and he started to tell me how he hooked up at least once a week. He told me about the guard suite. There was a break room with a small kitchen and television, and there was a dressing room area for the boys and girls. The guard staff had this unwritten rule that you stayed out of the suite if someone was on their break. That’s where they would have sex.

Ian would smile, and you could see in his eyes that he was legit. Yeah, I was still catching myself staring at those damned eyes. Don’t go there! I just can’t help it, okay?

Greenely interrupted us. “Guys, time to go. Ian, you riding with me?”

I don’t know where the words came from. I know they didn’t come out of my brain, but before I could stop them, I blurted out, “Hey, I can drive you home. Maybe we could stop at the diner and talk some more over coffee?”

“That sounds cool. It’s a date!” What the fuck? He attacked me again with that damned smile and those fucking gorgeous eyes! No! Stop it, Cam! What? Did he call this a date?

“Well, not a—date date. I mean, well, you know.” Oh, great. Now I’m blushing.

“Not what I meant, dude. Just getting to know each other—which has really been cool so far.” Dammit, Ian! Stop twinkling your fucking eyes when you smile! And what are those? Dimples?? Fucking cute-as-hell dimples? Yeah, they’re cute, okay? Gotta call a spade a spade, you know.

Greenely brought me back to the real world with, “Well, don’t stay out too late. I got you two working the morning shift, and you gotta be there at 8:30 to open the pool. Jen’s gonna be there with you and work the desk since she’s experienced with everything.”

He walked over to Ian and gave him a “cousinly” hug. “So, what do you think? You gonna like it here?”

While hugging his cousin, Ian looked over at me and smiled while he spoke, “Oh yeah, Vic. I think things are gonna be just fine. I’m glad I’m here!” So, of course, I smile back, blush, and look down at my feet.

That’s when I noticed it. My khaki shorts were showing the outline of my cock in full semi mode. How the fuck did that happen? I’m not gay, and I haven’t been around any girls. And I’m not gay.

“Dudes, I’ll meet you out front. I gotta call my folks and let them know I’m gonna be out a while.” And with that, I tried to rearrange my cock as I walked away. Unfortunately, I decided to free-ball, and there just wasn’t much I could do.

I got out to my Charger and called my parents. Dad answered, and by the time I told him my plans, and by the time we disconnected, Cam Jr. was back to his normal, deflated self. Ian walked out to the car and was impressed with my baby.

“Nice wheels, dude. I’m hoping to get some at the end of the summer with the money I make. Probably not as nice as this, but for me, wheels are wheels, and I need some of my own!”

I popped my key fob and opened the doors. “Get in! Let’s go!”

Oh. Fuck. Me. As I turned on the ignition, my satellite radio started blasting out the Broadway channel. Ian now knows something else about me. I’m a swim team jock and a theatre nerd. “Cool! That’s my favorite XM channel, too!” What the fuck. I just let the showtunes play while we drove to the diner.

By the time we got to Oscar’s Diner, we were both belting out “Sincerely, Me” from Dear Evan Hansen. I parked the car, but we couldn’t get out until we were done singing. That would be rude!

We finally made it into the diner and took a seat in one of the booths. We ordered our coffee and decided to split an order of fries. Ian was happy about the fries. Ha! He said he was afraid I was some kind of health freak since I only ate veggies at the meeting.

God, we just talked on and on. This time Ian’s knee was resting against mine pretty much the whole time. Yeah, I could’ve moved my knee away since I’m totally not gay, but those eyes—and that smile—and those fucking dimples.

Great! Now Cam Jr. is full-on rock hard. What the fuck? He’s not gay either! While we’re sitting there, I manage to reach down and pull the head up to the waistband of my shorts. At least my tee-shirt hangs down low enough to hide that!

Then out of the blue, this big-ass thunderstorm starts up. We decide to wait it out, but after another twenty minutes, it’s still going. We decide to make a run for it, and by the time we get into the car, we’re both soaked to the bone.

When we get to Ian’s house, we’re both shivering. Ian speaks up, “Dude—come into the house. We need to dry our clothes. We’ll need to go into the back door, though. Aunt Claire will kill us if we drip and track water through the front of the house.”

It was already 10:30, so I had another 30 minutes to call home before the parents went to bed. I called and let them know I was gonna be at least another hour since I needed to get dry. They thought that was a good idea, so I didn’t get sick for my first day of work.

“Dude, just stay the night, and we can go in together. I have an extra bedroom, so you won’t be in the way.”

It really was a good idea, so I let Mom know I’d not be coming home. She was cool with that, too.

I stuck the phone in my pocket as we got out of the car, and we ran around to the back door, this time getting thoroughly and completely soaked. By the time we got to the back porch, Ian’s aunt had opened the back door to let us in. “Ian! You look like a drowned rat! And who’s this?”

“Aunt Claire, this is Cam. He’s guarding with me in the morning. I’m going to help him get his clothes dry—well, our clothes dry—and since it’s going to be pretty late by the time they’re done, I figured he could stay in the guest room downstairs. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, dear. Nice to meet ya, Cam! Do I know your family?”

“Well, my mom is the secretary at the high school—and my dad runs Franklin’s Tailor Shoppe.”

“Oh! I do know your parents. Well, get your butts downstairs so I can mop up the floor from where you boys have been dripping. We’ll see you both in the morning!”

Damn! Ian’s got some nice digs! There’s a sitting area with a fifty-inch flat-screen, two bedrooms, a full bath, and a laundry room.

“This used to be my cousin’s area. Now it’s mine! It’s totally perfect. The only time anyone else comes down here is on Saturday morning when Aunt Claire does the laundry.”

Ian led me to the laundry room and said it was time to strip down. I have to say it was nice pulling my soaked tee shirt off. Ian did the same. Holy Fuck! Dude’s got a fucking six-pack that was like nothing I’ve ever seen. And those pecs! Oh, fuck me! I gotta stop looking at him like I was gay—and I'm not!

We threw our shirts into the washer, and then I panicked. When I took off my shorts, Ian would see Cam Jr. in all his glory. Before I could get into full panic mode, Ian put his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his basketball shorts and pulled everything down, including his underwear. And there it was.

Ian’s hard cock slapped up and smacked those awesome abs. It looked to be a tad smaller than mine, seven or eight inches. Nice, trimmed bush—just as blond as the hair on his head. Nice. No! I’m not gay!

“Dude! take off your shorts, already!”

Well, at least I’m not the only one popping wood. I lowered my shorts, and I think I might have heard Ian gasp a little when he saw my 8-1/2 inches. Ian added some detergent and started the machine. We just stood there, about six feet apart.

I saw Ian looking up and down at my body. I was looking at his, too. No, I’m not fucking gay!

I’m pretty sure it was Ian who slowly started to move towards me while looking into my eyes with that gorgeous smile. No! No! I’m not gay! So why was I walking towards him now?

I think it was when our cocks touched was when our arms went around each other. I don’t know who leaned in first, but I found myself experience the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had. Ian’s lips were soft and firm at the same time. He opened his mouth, and my tongue did what it’s trained to do—explore. I don’t know how long we were kissing, but when I felt Cam Jr. pulse and deposit a surge of precum all over Ian Jr., I broke away.

“Ian, I’m not—"

“Shhhh. I’m probably not either,” he interrupted me. “But we should take a nice, hot shower and warm our bodies back up.”

“Heh, your body’s pretty hot already!” Who the fuck said that!?! I’m. Not. Gay! Well, at least that’s what I was saying to myself as Cam Jr. throbbed and dripped onto the shower floor. Ian adjusted the water and backed up just enough to press his muscular ass into my cock.

Why did I put my arms around him? Why did I kiss him when he leaned his head back on my shoulder? Oh, fuck me! Why did I reach down and grab his cock while we kissed?

I’m. Not. Gay! Right? Right????