Amazingly Ordinary

By Wes Leigh

 

This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.

This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

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Chapter Six

 

I was sitting in makeup, acquiring new layers of decaying flesh on my face. Apparently, the zombie disease was progressing rapidly in my body, and I had to look the part, which meant several extra hours in the makeup department every morning. While the talented artists were transforming me into a zombie, I overheard a conversation that made my stomach churn.

The director and one of the producers were nearby, behind a wall, gossiping.

"We're getting some great scenes out of the two of them," the director said.

"It's about damned time," the producer replied.

"I knew we would. That Hansen kid has done it on every movie so far. He's worth every penny we're paying for him."

"You mean every penny I'm paying for him," the producer said with a chuckle. "Were you ever worried?"

"I was at first. When he demanded we swap out the zombie for this new guy, I almost panicked. But Hansen pulled it out. He'll go far as a Hollywood actor. He's the perfect combination of whore and slut, and he knows how to get the best performance out of his co-stars."

The producer laughed. "You're right about that. I can't believe he's only fifteen. The kid is a natural at using sex to create chemistry."

The director snorted. "I hope he's enjoying this guy's cock while he can, because we're almost done with the zombie. Then it's back to the studio for the rest of the scenes. And I expect the same quality of acting from him there, without his fuck buddy for company. I'll have to find him someone to keep him happy."

If it wouldn't have messed up my makeup, I would have bent over right then and thrown up on my shoes.

The lady putting on my rotting cheek gave me a sympathetic look. I blinked back my tears and waited for her to finish. Why should I care? I had no right to expect anything better. In fact, I should have anticipated this, so I'm the fool for thinking it might be something more.

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Kristian showed up just as she was finishing my makeup. He smiled at me, happy and energetic like he usually is.

I swallowed my hurt and walked out, leaving him with a shocked expression on his face.

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Kristian found me an hour later, sitting under a tent, waiting to be called onto the set.

He took one look at me and said, "Come with me."

I shook my head. For once, I wasn't going to be ordered around like someone's dog. Or fuck buddy.

He took my hand and said, "Please. Please come with me."

He pulled gently on my hand, so I stood up and allowed him to lead me to his RV. One of the assistants tried to intercept us, informing us they'd be ready for us on set in a few minutes.

Kristian turned and snapped, "We have something we need to do first. Tell that stupid pikhoved to shove a camera up his ass if he wants something to do until I get there."

The assistant dropped his clipboard in shock.

Kristian tugged my hand, urging me to follow him.

Once we reached the RV, he opened the door and pulled me inside. Then he slammed the door shut and locked it. He urged me to sit on the sofa and sat down next to me.

Biting his lip, he said, "Maddie told me what those bastards said. While she was putting on my makeup, she told me what you overheard." He stared at me intently. "None of it is true, Johnny. None of it."

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But he's such a good actor ...

I sighed. "They said you've done this on every movie. You told me it's chemistry. It's okay. I get it."

Kristian shook his head. "It started out that way, but it's not chemistry for me anymore."

I couldn't help it. My stupid eyes filled up with tears and I started bawling. "Then what is it, Kristian? If it's not chemistry, then what are we doing?"

Kristian began crying too. "I don't know," he sobbed. "I've never felt this way before. About anyone!"

I looked at him, swallowing hard to stop my tears. "Really?"

He nodded. "You keep saying you're ordinary. You don't listen to me when I tell you that you're special to me, that you aren't ordinary."

"Then I'm not just your fuck buddy?"

"NO! You're ... you're ... I don't know what you are to me, because no one has ever made me feel the way you do. I'm trying to understand, but I really am just a kid. This is all new to me, and I don't know why I feel this way. I only know that my heart is breaking when I think that we only have a few more days together before I have to go to Los Angeles to finish filming. I don't want to leave you behind, Johnny."

He fell into my chest and cried while I held him tight.

"What's a pick-ved?" I asked, gently rubbing his back to help him calm down.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Whatever it was you called the director," I explained.

He stopped crying. "A stupid pikhoved?"

"Yeah. That word."

He giggled. "It means dickhead. I would have called him something worse, but the tattletales would have gone running to my mom and I would have heard about it later."

He sat up and we lovingly hugged each other for a few more minutes. Finally, he looked me in the eye and said, "I really don't know what we are to each other."

"I do," I replied. He looked at me puzzled, waiting for me to explain. "You are my gift from God, and I am yours, and that should be enough for both of us."

Maddie in makeup wasn't surprised when we both showed up and needed touching up to fix our faces. We sat in chairs, side by side, holding hands. She smiled the entire time she made us pretty again. Well, she made Kristian pretty. She made me look like a decaying zombie.

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I was locked up inside a cage. As a precaution.

Kristian walked up, tears in his eyes, holding a hypodermic needle filled with a glowing blue fluid.

I stuck my arm through the bars of the cage, freely offering myself for the experiment Kristian had to perform, on the remote chance that it would cure other zombies. We both knew the risks. I could turn on him, tearing him apart. That was why I was in the cage. If the injection didn't work and I became just another brainless zombie monster, he had to be safe, because he was our last remaining hope.

Kristian took my hand and held it. When he finally looked up, our eyes met. We stared at each other, longing for the moment to never end. He struggled to keep from breaking down. I couldn't help myself. A single tear escaped and rolled down my cheek, captured by the camera that was zoomed in tight on my face.

Kristian placed the needle against the vein in my arm and pushed it in. The prop needle didn't penetrate my flesh, but I still gasped dramatically and opened my eyes wide in pain as the injection spread through my body. My head began to shake. I pulled away from Kristian, falling down inside the cage and throwing my body around in a violent seizure. When the fit finally passed, I curled up in a fetal ball and gasped for breath. Would the injection work? Would it heal my body?

Kristian sat on the floor next the cage, watching me intently. "In one day," he whispered, "you will live and we'll be saved ... or not." Like most of the rest of movie, it was a totally cheesy line, but Kristian delivered it with his usual fervency and professionalism.

"Cut!" the director exclaimed. "Let's do that again. Zombie guy, less shaking during the seizure. We want it to look like the injection is working before you die."

So we did it again. And again. And my heart broke every time, because it reminded me that Kristian would be leaving me all too soon.

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In Kristian's RV that night, I held his naked body spooned against my own. I kissed the back of his neck, making him moan and turn his head slightly, encouraging me to nibble his ear and the side of his neck.

He arched his back slightly, pushing his soft bottom back against my hard shaft. He wriggled around until my cock nestled in the cleft between his cheeks, then he moved up and down slightly, caressing me with his soft flesh.

My hands slid down his side, gently tickling his ribs, counting each one as I slid my fingers along his smooth flesh. Around to his stomach, teasing the few hairs leading from his belly button to the soft, curling hairs above his cock. Lower still, finding his thin teen dick, rock hard, throbbing with anticipation. I took him in my hand and gently squeezed, caressing him.

He groaned and thrust up in my hand, eager to begin, but I pulled him against me, cuddling him, loving him, urging him to accept a slower, more sensual passion.

I shifted my hips back and felt my cock slide down and press into the sweaty gap between his butt cheeks. He reached around and grasped my shaft, aligning it with his hole. I pushed. He accepted. With gentle care, I slowly penetrated him, not stopping until I was fully encased inside him.

I kissed his neck again and began thrusting ever so gradually in and out.

He breathed in, sighed, and moaned.

And we made love.

When I finished, I pulled out and rolled over, offering myself to him. He was as careful and considerate, taking me and making me his own.

Neither of us slept that night, but we enjoyed the gift we'd been given, even if was our last night together.

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As required by the movie script, the injection failed. The next day, during filming, I died inside the cage.

Kristian was devastated. He unlocked the cage door and fell on my chest, weeping.

The director was delighted. "Great job, Mr. Hansen. Well done, zombie guy." He turned and found his assistant. "Marty, take zombie guy to payroll. Cut him his final check. Get his signature on all the releases and stuff. You know the drill."

They hustled me off the set and steered Kristian away to film his next scene.

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I couldn't help myself. It was sheer torture, but I stayed around, watching Kristian from a distance as he acted out his last scenes. When they finally wrapped it up for the day, I wandered off, aimlessly heading for my car. In my hand, I held a check for $18,237.18. They sure took out a lot for taxes, but it was more than I'll ever make in a single week if I live to be a thousand years old. I should have been ecstatic, but all I could think was ... it's over.

When I reached my car, I heard someone behind me yell, "Johnny! Wait up!"

I turned and saw Kristian running after me. His eyes were sad as he said, "You didn't say goodbye."

I swallowed hard. "Yeah. Ummm ... I thought it would be better that way, you know?"

He nodded. "Okay."

I looked around. This was so hard. "Good luck with the rest of the film," I said, for lack of anything better to say.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. And good luck to you. With ... life."

"Thanks."

"So will you come back and watch us finish filming?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Sure. Might be fun."

"Great," he said, trying his best to smile. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He handed it to me with a bashful grin.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The spare key to my RV," he replied.

͠ ͠ ͠

It wasn't gentle that night.

We bit each other on the neck while thrusting our hard cocks against each other. I slapped his butt cheeks until they turned red, while shoving my cock inside him over and over. After I exploded inside him, he threw me onto my back and slammed his cock inside me with only his precum for lube, making me arch my back in pain, soon to be followed by ecstasy as he pounded away at me.

In the shower, we were gentle again, soaping each other up and carefully easing our aching holes and strained muscles.

Back in bed, we nursed on each other's cocks, pulling out load after load of cum until our bodies were drained and we fell asleep, exhausted, heads resting on the thigh of our lover.

In the morning, Kristian called one of the assistants and requested breakfast in bed ... or I guess it would be ... breakfast in the RV. We ate our egg and sausage burritos as we stared into each other's eyes.

"We finish filming today," he said.

"Yeah. That's what I heard," I replied.

"What will you do next?" he asked.

"Look for a job," I replied. "Now that I'm an unemployed zombie, I need something to pay the rent."

He grunted. "Sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah," I agreed.

Kristian looked at me with a sly grin and said, "You know, I heard about a job that might be perfect for you."

There was something about his grin that told me he was up to something. "Oh, really? What is it?" I asked.

"It's a job as the personal bodyguard for a famous Hollywood actor. A teen star from Denmark. You would have to go with him, wherever he goes. Keep an eye on him. Keep the fans off him. Stay close to him and keep him under control, because he may look like an angel, but he's a bit of a devil."

I nodded. I smiled. "I can do that." It sounds like the perfect job for an amazingly ordinary guy like me.

 

The end of AMAZINGLY ORDINARY

 

And once again, thank you, Danny. Your assistance in writing this story was amazingly helpful and far from ordinary. Thank you for reminding us all how important it is that we not think less of ourselves, but that we think less about ourselves, and more about others.