Little Man - 11. Epilogues and New Beginnings

“Your can take your headphones off now, Eric.”

I tapped my blond roommate soundly on the shoulder. He startled explosively and fell off the sofa, nearly dumping his soda on the floor. His eyes were wide saucers as he shook himself to keep from admitting that I'd just scared the living hell out of him.

“Music on loud enough?” I was having a hard time trying to suppress my laughter. Eric was hiding a few deep breaths while he pressed stop on his I-pod and pulled the earbuds out.

“I had to drown out Ogre screaming, 'Fuck me harder! Fuck me harder!!' Christ, he's a loud fuck. Speaking of. . .” He looked around the room. “Where's Ogre?”

I pointed my thumb down the hallway. “He's in the shower. He tried to drag me in with him, but I'm not letting him be late to his first classes.”

“He wanted to play again?” Eric's face was twisted in comical shock. “Jesus! You two have been like screaming, humping monkeys lately.”

I looked away while I clasped my hands behind my back. “He's nervous. Sex calms him down.”

“If he gets any calmer, he'll be comatose,” Eric deadpanned. I snorted loudly feeling the flush rise in my cheeks.

It was the first week of classes in September. Ogre had managed to change his major to art over the summer after he officially moved in with Eric and I. His father had resisted the idea, but ultimately his mother eased the way. He was still anxious about the new start. Members of the football team raised an eyebrow over the changes in his life, but it had been mostly uneventful.

Either way, the beginning of art classes was a huge step for Steve. The more nervous he became, the more physical comfort he required. The last few days were quite the sex-fest. I was not complaining. I couldn't keep track of how many times Ogre had asked me to fuck him stupid.

“Once he has his first class it will be a lot calmer,” I said.

“Thank God. It was bad enough walking in on him fucking you that time. Having the image of Ogre on the bottom begging for it takes a little getting used to.” Eric closed his eyes with a dramatic shudder.

“Bite me. For all the times I've walked in to find you screwing some chick senseless I think you can take some of your own karma.”

Eric raised his hands in a truce. “Just tell me you haven't been fucking on the kitchen counters.”

I just stayed quiet and turned away from him.

“Aw, man! I prepare food in there.” I grinned devilishly as Eric whined.

“Don't worry. We clean up after ourselves,” Ogre said. He wrapped his damp arms around me from behind. I hadn't heard him exit the bathroom. He was only wearing a towel and a smattering of water droplets transferred from his skin to mine. I was only wearing a pair of gym shorts I threw on before tossing him into the shower and I could feel his ample cock pressing into me. Even through the towel it felt impressive. The touch of his flesh shot surges through me and my mind flashed back to earlier as I watched my cock bury itself over and over, merging our well earned tan lines into one. Ogre began to grind himself into me and I could feel the rush of blood to my cock.

“Oh no you don't!” I cried. I jumped forward to disconnect his heated touches. I was not about to throw wood in front of Eric in a pair of loose shorts without underwear. “Go get dressed!” I spun my giant boyfriend around and pushed him towards our bedroom.

“Are you coming to dress me?” he husked. Over the summer, Ogre had lost his shyness in front of Eric.

“Go!” I gave him a firm shove into the hallway with a smile on my face. I wanted to follow him so badly, but he'd never make his first class.

Ogre closed the door with a fake pout and whimper and I just shook my head grinning. Refusing him was not something I was used to. I was so happy.

Eric stepped up to me and rubbed the almost skin-tight crop of my hair.

“I'm still not used to your haircut. You never kept your hair this short in the past.”

The summer had brought a close to the criminal case of Chuck Mason, the redneck who attacked me. Almost two months had gone by before I learned his name. A nameless rapist had an air on surrealism that kept the horror under control. He had pled guilty to all charges after the testimony and evidence had been examined. There wasn't going to be a trial, but sentencing had yet to come along. The district attorney requested a victim impact statement to ensure a long prison stay, but I still suffered disturbing nightmares for most of the season.

It had been weeks since I cut my hair off. It was part of a drastic change that made me feel empowered over my assault. I had read about Roman soldiers shaving their heads to keep the enemies from using it to slit their throats. I bought a pair of clippers later that day. No sooner had I shed my hair, I walked into a local tattoo parlor. Along my flank over my previously broken ribs in large script letters now permanently read, “No Victims Here.”

Ogre and Eric both flipped out. I don't think it was about getting the tattoo as it was that I just ran out and had it done without so much as a word to either of them. They felt it was so out of character, but they didn't understand at first that I was taking control. I was tired of reliving my helplessness as I laid bloody and broken on the bathroom floor. Strangely enough, after doing both of these things, the nightmares seemed to fade. I felt more centered these days and wasn't looking over my shoulder in the dark.

I wasn't cured, but my worst life experience wasn't in the front of my mind every moment anymore.

“It was a little bit of therapy,” I said.

“Since you said the word. . . How are your sessions with Dr. Lambert coming?” Somehow he had managed not to press me for more details over the summer and only absorbed what small bit of information I would pass along to him. His respectful distance over the matter was very unlike him, but I felt he understood my need to process and gave me the space I needed.

“It's been good. She's says I'm at a point where I don't need to come see her on a regular schedule anymore, just if I find myself needing to talk. She says that you and Ogre have been a good support group for me.” Eric's hand slid down to my shoulder into a familial hug. Even though it took some time for him to learn how to share his paternal attentions with Steve, it was something that made life feel recoverable afterwards.

Steve had been amazing. I never imagined a man so large could be so innately gentle. He took care of me while my body healed, even when my restlessness fought against him. He told me every day how much he loved me and how grateful he was to have me. My heart ached when we weren't together. I didn't care how co-dependent it sounded, I loved him so much.

It wasn't easy. Both of them doted on me so badly in the beginning that I nearly walked out on my crutches on several occasions. After one spectacular meltdown they backed off and I made my first appointment with Dr. Lambert.

I was terrified at first but the woman who looked like the grandmother you always wanted with a psychiatric degree eventually helped me find myself again. I managed to catch up over the summer on the art classes I couldn't complete from my wrist fractures and the new semester had me looking forward again. Ogre starting art classes had only renewed my outlook.

“Remind me why I'm wearing this again?” Steve asked. I watched with a leer as he walked back into the living room.

I had chosen his clothes for the first day and he was wearing a frayed white wife beater that hugged his chest and a pair of jeans with strategically placed tears that a pair of black boxer briefs barely made decent. That paired up with a pair of work boots made me want to make him miss his first classes after all my efforts.

“Because your first class is 2-D Design with Professor Meadows.” I walked a circle around him surveying my efforts. “There's no secret that you're a football player in the art department. There are going to be some instructors that will think you're just trying for an easy A. Meadows has never been especially fond of athletes before, but she has always had a soft spot for a good looking young man. You're trying to make a good first impression.”

“But what about Professor Keefe in Drawing 101 after that?”

“He also has a soft spot for good looking men.” I looked him over top to bottom and resisted the impulse to molest him. “Now take your portfolio and tackle box and get out of here. You're going to be late.” I placed his art supplies in his hands and spanked his ass to usher him towards the door. My giant bent down hands full and kissed me softly.

“God, I love you,” he said. His face was a warm smile as he turned and walked out the door. I watched his backside sway in his jeans suggestively as he walked to his truck and drove off. My mind drifted to our earlier escapades. Eric shook me by the shoulder out of my fantasy.

“Cut it out! He's not even gone and you're already undressing him with your eyes.”

“I can't help it.” I gently bit my lower lip. “But his body is so nice and if you knew what he lets me do with it. . .” I shivered. “Oh, God. Let's gets some breakfast before I embarrass myself even worse.” My cheeks felt hot as I headed into the kitchen.

Eric followed me as we broke out with our respective stashes of cereal and settled at the kitchen table. He kept eyeing spots on the counter suspiciously.

“Not there, Eric. We were closer to the fridge.”

Eric grunted. “I'm trying not to think about it.” I couldn't help laughing at him.

We ate our breakfasts in comfortable quiet. It had been a while since Eric and I had been alone in the house together and it left a strange nostalgia. Ogre's addition to our family was a good thing, but change always came at a price even if it was a small one. With everything I'd gained from Steve moving in, I now had less time to spend with Eric. It was inevitable, of course, but I was relishing the moment that no doubt would become rarer as the weeks and months would go on.

“So are you finally going to let Ogre be on top for a change?” Eric asked. I almost spit-sprayed milk and Fruit Loops across the table over his bluntness.

“He told you that?” I stared at Eric. My eyes refused to blink.

“No, but it's not your voice I'm hearing crying out the Lord's name over and over while being fucked through the floor every night.” Eric stuffed another spoonful of Frosted Flakes in his mouth. I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts.

“I want to. It's. . . it's been difficult.” My voice was quiet. I loved Ogre so much and he would never force himself on me. He proved this over and over. Since I got out of the hospital he hadn't asked to be on top. In fact, he's been offering his own ass up on a regular basis. It wasn't like the incident with Heidi. I wasn't trying to force his hand. I was simply scared.

“I know it's been hard, but eventually you have to be fair to Ogre. He obviously likes you to fuck him, but I know he likes to wet his cock too.” Eric sounded like a perverted version of Ward Cleaver at this moment: thoughtful, introspective and completely inappropriate. “You guys are too good for each other to let something like this be an issue for too long.”

“It's not like he's not having a good time.” My brow flattened as I found myself feeling a little defensive.

“No kidding, Little Man,” Eric chuckled. “No one makes that kind of noise when they're hating it. I'm just saying it seems like things are a little one-sided these days.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I just get scared sometimes of allowing him to be that dominant.”

“This is Ogre we're talking about. You love it when he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder all caveman style, and you know as well as I do that he would never hurt you. But if you need to top from the bottom, tie him to the chair and go ride his cock. Best of both worlds.” Eric shoveled anther spoon of cereal into his mouth as I stared at him blankly, my dripping spoon frozen inches from my mouth. That was so not Ward Cleaver. “Just warn me ahead of time so I can go to the library or something. I don't want to hear both of you shouting sex noises.”

I didn't have a response to that. I continued my breakfast as I contemplated what Eric's suggestion really meant. Could I marshal my courage and let go of the last vestiges of fear that were misdirecting my love life? It seemed simple enough of a tactic. My introspection was interrupted by Eric's next question.

“You know what makes Ogre perfect for you?”

“Tell me.”

“Because if you're never ready to let him be on top again, he won't stop loving you.”

A warm smile bled into my face as I finished my cereal. I rinsed out the bowl in the sink and walked up behind Eric and wrapped my arms around him. I tightened my hug and softly spoke into his ear.

“Thank you, Eric. I don't know what I'd do without you.” I could feel the happy warmth in response.

“You're my Little Man. I'm always there for you. Never forget that.” Eric gently pressed his temple into mine. I wasn't sure how I got so lucky. “You and Ogre belong together.”

My eyes misted slightly as the wave of joy bled over me and I hugged Eric even tighter still. At that moment I realized that I was capable of anything and that I would no longer be ruled by the fear of past events that couldn't be changed.

“Eric?”

“Yeah, Little Man?”

“I think you should go to the library tonight or charge up your iPod. I don't think you want to hear me climb Ogre in the chair.”

“Gross. . .”

I stood there for a moment pondering Eric and wishing him some amount of happiness that I'd ultimately gained with Steve. I wanted that for Eric, too. He had never been content to date anyone regularly because of our friendship and his dedication to his schoolwork. It didn't seem fair somehow.

I had a sudden inspiration. Steve was going to kill me.

“Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever met Heidi?”

THE END