Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2009 23:45:57 +0100 From: Cody Samuels Subject: Jack and Daniel 1 (Revised) Introduction: Hey there everyone! This is my first ever story on nifty, and I am totally thrilled to be writing for this site. I haven't been reading long from Nifty but I totally enjoy it, and now I want to partake in contributing. Go easy on me because it's my first time, so any comments that you have please send them to me at Literally.naked@gmail.com Also I wouldn't mind seeing what people think Daniel and Jack look like. :D A bit about myself: I am Cody Samuels, I am 20 and I'm an English Literature and Language student in London, so this puts my Varsity and College ideas out of perspective. DISCLAIMER: This fictional story has scenes of male nudity and sexual acts between two or more men that readers may find disturbing or inappropriate for ages under 18. Please do not read if you find such reading offensive or if it may become property of anyone under the age of 18. This is copyrighted by the writer with permission to publish given to the Nifty Alliance Archive and is exclusively for the readers of this website. This is for the private and personal viewing pleasure of your own. Copying or distribution of this writing is a violation of international copyright laws and will be pursued to the fullest extent allowable by law. The characters in Jack and Daniel are all fictional and any semblance to real persons living or deceased is purely coincidental. NOTES: This is a fantasy- Reality is different, use a condom. Enjoy the first chapter! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER I- BROKEN My name is Daniel Lechner, I'm 18 and I grew up with my Mom and Dad in a town called Olympia, Washington. I have a little German, American and Filipino Heritage blood in me. I'm 5'10, slight of build with a sort of tawny complexion, brown hair, and green eyes. Apparently I look "Exotic" to some people- which could be another way of saying "different"; that in and of itself seems to provoke some sort of reaction with some people. My friends tell me I'm "hot", but I think I sometimes gross myself out with thoughts like that. Inside I'm kind of a shy, introverted guy that gets thrown into areas of responsibility that I don't really want to be in. I don't have a lot of friends, so having friendships is a little difficult for me- I don't know what to expect and how to be in one. And I have neither been in a relationship. I wouldn't even know the first thing about being in one- however, if I was to be in one; I wouldn't be wearing the pants all the time, that's for sure. And although I seem pretty held together, it's only because I'm a quiet guy, and I never wear my heart on my sleeve. But like all people I also have some things that are buried deep down that are hard to talk about, and others that would surprise you. Hopefully I'll be able to tell you more as we go on. My closest friend is Maddy; she lives in Michigan and is studying Political Science. She's a pretty brunette that loves her music...any to be precise. She always stood up for me since we were in Kindergarten. She knows a lot about me- some would say she knows me better than I know myself- despite the fact that even though she's my closest friend, I haven't told her I'm gay. Anyway, I'm afraid to do so in case she might laugh at me, call me a faggot, and then tell the rest of the school so they could all pick on me and beat me up. I would have to change schools again and start the process all over. I don't have a lot of self esteem as you can tell, but what I lack for in self esteem, I make up for in hard work. It's probably the reason I took up gardening. It's not only hard, physical, arduous work that I get physically stronger from, but it gives me time to think about things and time to work through some of my problems away from people. The Grounds Keeper, George, makes sure of that. But I don't mind; it helps me with my biology studies. I'm not fat- if anything I feel anorexic, weighing only 60 kilos. There's no real definition to my body other than the blemishes that I seem to be able to pick out in even patterns all over my body. Working hard at landscaping has put a little "structure" on my body if anything as time has progressed. My mother was a successful doctor at the Negros Occidental Municipal Hospital and was offered a job in Seattle where she met my Dad. My Dad was also a doctor from Westchester in New York and came from a well-off family. The two met in a seminar at Yale where my mom was on a scholarship program and my dad had connections there. I have a brother Lucas and a sister Alyssa. I also had a brother Marcus. He died when he was young... he died from a mob of uncivilized animals. People that couldn't accept him for who he was: Gay. In many ways, when he died I also died a little inside. I hid myself from the world for a year while I was nearing high school graduation. That didn't turn out so great by the way. I was as far in the "closet" as I could get, afraid to say anything about my sexuality in case it got me killed too. So closeted that nearly everything was "Mission Impossible" and that I rarely found anything in the day to be happy about. I have a lot of issues- I should buy one of those "extra large" shopping carts at Costco for the amount of crap and emotional baggage I have. -------------------------------Present time-------------------------------- WHAM! I flew through the air and hit my head hard on the floor! The next thing I felt was a painful ache in my jaw as it started to swell. Suddenly I was being jerked up roughly by the back of my collar. "FAGGOT! I'm gonna kick the shit out of you, you cocksucking ass-jockey" and then another blow hit me straight in my solar plexus- knocking the wind out of me. I felt like I was slowly dying in the most painful way possible as the big brown-haired, blue-eyed asshole kneed me in the balls and I curled up in a fetal position, screaming in pain. I was still screaming for dear life as he picked me up and threw me to the floor again and started kicking the living shit out of me. As I felt one of my ribs crack, I screamed again, a brutal and strangled scream as he continued kicking and shouting, "FUCKING FAG! SHUT YOUR COCK SUCKING MOUTH". I didn't know it, but that last kick had sent a broken rib through one of my lungs, causing it to deflate and sending frothing, bloody sputum to come flying out of my mouth when I tried to cry out again. Suddenly it was quiet and as I lay there in pain, I heard him expel a large volume of air, quickly gasp for more, and cry out as what sounded like blow after blow was being delivered to a body; at first I thought it was mine because I couldn't feel anything at this point, but in a moment I realized it wasn't my body being pummeled. It seemed like an eternity until finally there was a crash as a body went flying right through a closed door, or something solid. I couldn't tell because I was almost blacked out from mybody shutting down and still curled up in a ball on the floor. But I did know that it was suddenly very quiet. My eyes were swollen and I couldn't see much from being punched in the face so hard. I felt a hand reach up to my throat but try as I might I couldn't move as the hand carefully moved around my neck. I could just barely hear this angelic voice- calm but so desperately worried- "Oh no... you're in pretty bad shape... let's get you to the hospital- don't worry Dan, you'll be okay." I felt consciousness slip away, losing myself to the darkness, to the quiet-empty, painless abyss. -----------------------------Dreaming -------------------------------- I felt as if I was dreaming as I saw this beautiful guy with blond wavy hair and the most captivating, vivid, deep blue ocean eyes I had ever seen. Above all this his smile- it caught me in rapture, his half mooned turns on the corners of his lips and the full set of ivory-white teeth that expressed only happiness. That dream didn't last long as I slipped deeper into the abyss, not truly aware of what was going whether it was with time or place. I phased between dreams and thoughts- nothing memorable, apart from this one, livid part of my dream. This being- a monster, a goliath, a golem of madness, took me by the scruff of my neck- engorged muscles with a set of jaws separating what should have been his abdomen, hungry for something. Fear and complete agony shot through all of my senses, ; I wanted out, but I couldn't escape him. His hand raised and drew closer- attempting to rip out my heart. As much as I tried to scream for help, for someone, anyone! I felt no-one. I felt alone, succumbing quickly to the darkness all over again. I cried out "Please! Don't leave me alone!" For days as I drifted in and out of consciousness, dreaming of the blond, blue-eyed man on occasion and then slipping into the darkness. When I dreamt of him, I felt calm- and his presence- it felt so real-tangible-authentic. And when he left, Nightmare replaced him, and began to tear at my heart and limbs all over again. Four days had passed and I eventually came back to reality. My parents told me about the episodes I would go through during my coma, during which I would go from peace to absolute terror, thrashing and constantly screaming "No!" It tore my mother's heart out to see me like this; so much that she would collapse from worry. She had been forced by my father, the Chief of Staff to just be at my side. My eyes were still swollen shut and I could just barely see through the slits where my eyes should be. I could see a brown-haired-something flashing lights at my eyes. He had a smooth, lyrical voice- caring but slightly stand offish- the kind of manner a doctor might adopt at the bed side. I recognized the figure- it was my Dad. I winced my eyes as the light shot little bolts of pain through them, and then closed them. "Ugh.. What's happening Dad?" I said groggily. Pain shot from nearly every part of my body- ribs, face, chest, legs and balls- everything hurt and throbbed; sort of like barbed wire, dipped in hot ash was being dragged and scraped all over my body. "It's okay Son. You're safe now" with comforting reassurance- "But you're in pretty bad shape" I could hear the concern in his voice and it made me feel like shit- I hated making dad worry so much about me like this. "It's lucky that young man managed to beat that guy off and call an Ambulance or you would have died from hemorrhaging" Dad said. He continued poking and probing in certain places which made me twitch. I could hear him sigh with some satisfaction. It seemed that at least nothing serious had been severed. "Your neurological reactions seem okay at the moment, but you're a little photosensitive at the moment from the swelling in your eyes. Just relax and let your body heal." Dad went quiet again. The silence was lulling me into sleep and I felt the IV needle itch my skin. Morphine. And then the voice of my dad became deadly, dark and quiet. "The guy who beat you up is going to jail for a long, long time Dan, I promise," My Dad said. That was the last thing I remember before a blissful sleep took over my body and mind. The next two weeks seemed to drag on and on being confined to bed and under the constant surveillance of my Mom and Dad. Having doctors for parents and then the whole "parent thing" must have taken a real toll on them; they would jump personalities so much that I had become slightly afraid to talk to them about anything. They were aggressive attendants one minute, making sure I got something to eat and drink and then the next minute I knew, we were all smiles and laughs. It made me even more sad to think about how much I was putting them though; at times I found myself blankly staring out the window, too depressed to even move my fingers and pick up the shitty hospital food they were serving- artificial tasting gravy covering a frozen-ready-made chicken and potato meal. It was awful stuff I couldn't even eat. Slowly time passed and although I hadn't realized it, I had been moping around and depressed for so long that the scars and scrapes from when the guy had flung me to the floor were almost fully healed; except for the internal hairline fractures to the ribs and the torn muscles nearby, I was in fairly good shape physically anyway. And of course- a busted lip that was healing and the panda eyes which looked worse than they actually were also on the mend. Lukas came to see me twice, once while I was in the coma and once more while I was awake. He changed a bit since I last remembered him before college. He dyed his hair red, which suited him a lot against his tawny-tanned skin, and he also got a lip piercing. Something I wouldn't have done. We talked for a while, and it seems that everyone back home was really rooting for me to get well. I couldn't say much after that, I felt undeserving. Lukas tried to admonish me with a smile and a brace of my arm, but even he couldn't pull me out of my spiraling cascade of self-deprecation. My mum and dad insisted that I come home and not go back to college, but I didn't want to burden them. Besides how was I going to finish College? I really wanted to go back to school and continue my studies. I had been at college for only a month and a half and already I had been severely beaten up, it was too early to quit? While I was in the hospital, I had the time to think something over. I was puzzled and curious as to why someone that I didn't even know, and by the way, still didn't know, would want to save me. I wanted to know this person that managed to call the Ambulance. Who was my knight in shining armor? People just didn't do things like that. They just don't. Against the wishes of my parents I decided to go back to school. As I trudged through the hallway to my room, depressed at how my life had changed so suddenly now and how would be different it would be now, the pervading thought of how I was going to handle taking a shower every day from now on after the beating kept pounding in my head. How was I going to take a shower without being scared witless for my life? What do I do to keep myself clean? I'm obsessive compulsive- I needed to keep clean- Simple fact of life. I shared a room with my room-mate Jack Connors. He was a tall guy at 6'1 with blond hair, blue eyes and the most amazing body I've ever seen or imagined on a guy. He was a gymnast and spent most of his time in the gymnasium so I never really saw him that much because of our schedules. Usually he went out early in the morning and came back later in the afternoon to study. He mostly walked around the room in his boxers even though he said he loved being naked, but he put on boxers just for me so I wouldn't feel uncomfortable. He was really a considerate person, but secretly I wished he wouldn't be so considerate. I always saw him with girls but he never seemed very close to them. Although I wanted to, I never really got the time to get to know him. I spent the majority of my time pent up in the labs or with the professors working on things that I didn't understand. As a result I got respectable grades and thought that the Professors were just being nice because I was and gave me the good marks anyway; they always said I had talent. I have this part of me that makes me feel a little inferior to others. It's hard to describe, but when they would tell me this I would always deny it and really feel that way. But in all reality it wasn't true, as the results always proved me wrong. I thought I had the worst luck in everything and worried that I would never pass the exams, forcing me to work twice as hard. It seems that no matter how much I fret about things though, I always end up getting absurdly high marks. But me being me, I always blame it on the professors being too nice because my parents were both doctors. As time went on I also excluded myself from making friends in college in case I got into another situation where I could get hurt again. In my mind I couldn't take the chance of making any new friends and then have them play a huge and horrible prank where they ask me to come to a party and instead gather to beat the shit out of me again. I never talked much to people and I kept to myself even when I was around my room-mate. That is until today. He had just gotten out of the toilet and was wearing his boxers that barely covered his beautiful butt and his bulge, pushing the fabric away from his jutting hip bones that urged me to look back at his bulge again. I couldn't help but stare as I tried not to be noticed doing so. His Pecs were well formed, and his Abs! They were amazingly defined. My eyes were already wandering down his pelvis to the well defined and muscular jutting V that made my eyes naturally follow the point down to his crotch. I just stood and stared, feeling my own cock stir and swell. And then he turned and offered to help me get my bags. I quickly looked at what I was holding, hoping that he hadn't noticed me staring at his body, especially his crotch. "It's okay, I can handle it," I said, refusing the Adonis' help, but he insisted. Jack took the bags from me and propped them off to the side and started unpacking them. "Uh... you don't need to do that, really, I can manage" I said. Jack turned his head as he unpacked my clothes. "Look dude," he said softly, "I don't think you should be refusing help when it comes to you so freely, especially since you're so recently injured. Look at you. C'mon...I want to help you, now please let me" He said. I looked at him, at his perfect blue eyes and thought for a moment that I saw a pleading there I'd never detected before. But I must have been mistaken; it was, after all, a little dark in the dorm rooms. However I was touched by his concern and my heart swelled, making my sides hurt. I winced and he immediately looked at me with a flash of worry. "Don't bug out on me dude. Are you okay?" he said calmly but with an expression of worry. I almost melted right there on the spot. My heart wanted to say something but my mind kept racing back to the recent events and I couldn't. When I had finally gotten a deep breath I nodded to him and struggled to say, "Thanks, but I'm fine". Another chance, another struggle with my shyness, another battle with my insecurity. He continued to unpack my bags and put them in my drawers- which surprised me. First, hadn't I just said that I would rather do it myself? Now he was going ahead and doing it anyway, and not only that but he knew how I kept my things. And to top it all off every now and again he would give me a great show of his perfectly round bubble ass which was amazingly firm. I wanted to reach out and touch it, to caress those perfect globes. I continued drinking in the unexpected show in front of me as my cock started to swell and the pre-cum started to flow. Now I had the problem of how to hide the growing mound between my legs and the spot of pre-cum that was starting to come through my tracks. To top it all off, HE NOTICED ME STRUGGLING! "Dude let me help you with those" he said, as he slipped closer to me and stuck his thumbs in my waistband. I could smell him- his sweet and manly scent washed over me and aroused me even more. But I had to fight it. I couldn't let him know I was attracted to him. I couldn't take the chance of getting beaten up again. My body hadn't even repaired itself from the last one. I groaned mutely in my throat and he looked at me. His stare was intense. It was like he was trying to figure out my mind. I blushed deeply and then began to panic. Oh no! He's going to punch me! I nervously stammered "I-I-I-I'm Sorry." He smiled and said "It's okay dude, I just showered. You could do with one too" as he yanked my tracks down in one swift movement. I was so enamored with him by this point that I completely forgot that here I was, standing almost naked in front of my roommate, who I hardly knew, afraid I might get severely beaten up again, with a painfully large hard-on. I nearly died of embarrassment because he had never seen me like this before. Being a med student, I should have been comfortable with bodies. But because of the situation I was extremely shy and nervous owing to being bullied around so much since seventh grade and being called a fag. I never knew why they bullied me, maybe because I was the quiet one? I don't know. He chuckled as he looked at my boxers at full mast. "It's ok dude. I'm not looking. Although.... ahhhh! I'm not looking!" Then he unzipped the hoodie and took it off, looking non-plussed as if this was routine for him- an everyday event. Like I was when I was examining something as a med student in one of my classes; so I knew that look when I saw it. He made me melt- thank god he was open to all this; in fact, come to think of it, he was instigating it. Then his eyes bugged out as he saw the bandages around my torso. "Aww shit man. This is really serious dude. What happened?" his eyes changed with a tender look of concern. Again I had to sigh; it was amazing. But why would he be concerned with a lowly, nerdy med student like me? I wasn't worth it. I couldn't even defend myself. I breathed first and tried to push out some words but it was so hard. Try pushing a wall and you might get a sense of how I'm feeling. My muscles pulled tight across my chest. He saw my discomfort and he put a hand on my shoulder. I felt my heart beat faster and waves of emotion came crashing over me. The next thing I knew, a flash flood of tears rushed down my face. He saw me turn into an emotional wreck and embraced me until it subsided and I could tell him how I had gotten into the showers that miserable day, had gotten an erection watching another guy in the showers, and had gotten caught watching. The guy waited for me to get dressed and then as I left he ambushed me and beat the living shit out of me, almost killing me. But Jack suddenly stopped me there by raising his hands and said "It's okay. I know the rest." I looked at him, shocked. With the tears flowing again, I stammered- "H-h-h-how..?" He sat next to me and simply said, "Because I was the one who found you. I beat the guy away from you and I called the Ambulance." He lowered his head as if he had done something bad. >From somewhere deep inside I gathered the courage to touch his shoulder. "Thank you" I muttered. I was so nervous. I felt my heart pound rapidly as I tentatively touched my knight in shining-well, not so shining, more like naked-armor with my fingertips. He looked up at me and just smiled. My eyes watered and I began to cry freely. He took me into his big strong arms and as I snaked my arms around his upper body, he let me cry along his shoulder. I bawled until I finally subsided into shudders. He took a Kleenex and tenderly wiped my face clean. He wiped the salty tears from his shoulder and then looked at me. "You know that's the most you've said to me since the start of the term." I blushed hard and wanted to dig my head into my pillow out of embarrassment. He ruffled my hair and then went back to his bed. Almost immediately I fell into a restful sleep. As I slept I dreamt for the first time without nightmares. No nightmares about being beaten up and being called a fag; no disappointing false friendships; no horrible pranks that were all at my expenses. I dreamt of Jack. He was looking down at me in his glorious naked form, his brilliant shoulders covering my face from the sun, his full set of brilliant white, sexy teeth, his gorgeous piercing blue eyes. I couldn't help but feel that this dream was repeated somehow, like déjà vu. It felt like he was touching me with his eyes and his hair that had that "rolled-out-of-bed" look. He was amazing. I wanted him. I drank in his figure, abs, his entire body. He was so defined. He wasn't stocky, but extremely chiseled, from the crevasses in his abs to the protruding V in his hips. He was so sexy. I was all boned up as I saw his rock hard cock. He had the right amount of veins that jutted out of his circumcised head. His mushroom headed cock swelled red. He kissed my neck; he kissed my jaw line. I shivered and moaned and then he brushed my lips with his lips- an explosion of passion. The tentative kiss that made me weak in the knees and made wave after wave of emotion torrentially bombard my heart- it felt so right! So good- and then warmness flooded my vision. `Crap' I thought. I had just woken up and was greeted with the sight of Jack, naked and strolling into the room. He look liked he had just come of the shower, his blond hair was wet and in strings and he had a towel wrapped around his waist. I tried to move to get comfy but I felt a sharp ache. I winced and a moan escaped my lips. I had slept awkwardly and I felt my ribs throb a little. He looked at me and then smiled. "Hey dude. Morning- how are you feeling?" I blushed. I felt so embarrassed by his concern, and yet at the same time my heart swelled with pride. It was all too much for me. To have such a gorgeous guy like him who seemed to be relaxed, so care free and so sexy to be concerned about me. I bet he must make the girls all swoon and die of sheer embarrassment as he talked to them, because I felt like that now. If I were to die of an internal hemorrhage right now, I would die a happy man knowing he smiled at me. He gave me that look as if to say "What's going on in your head? Why are you smiling?"- and then I stammered out "I-I-I'm okay. Thank you for asking". And then I blushed madly. God he was amazing and driving me absolutely crazy. I've been around him for a month now, but he was killing me every time I saw him. And I loved it. He was so great to look at. A blond gymnast with a such beautiful body and a caring soul. He made me wish I was straight- because being a gay man with him around was SO DIFFICULT! I was so sure he was straight. ------------------------------- I would love to hear comments everyone. Once you've read this please send me an email with your thoughts about the beginning of Jack and Daniel. This story is going to go rather fast and I'm committed to a short goal of writing, so don't wait on those comments. Thank you! Literally.naked@gmail.com