Max’s Freudian Slip #33

by craigpnifty@protonmail.com & J

Author’s Notes:

We pick up where the left chapter ended…in the pizzeria, where Max recognized his sodomizer, seated with his friend, and Noah’s girlfriend, Ashley.  Talk about worlds colliding!

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Chapter 33

Bob clearly heard Max.  I could see the veins in his neck bulge as he glared towards Chad.  I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the scene.  Ashley and Chad, along with two younger boys and a woman (presumably Mrs. Chad?), were having a jovial conversation with Noah and Cam, laughing.  Noah and Ashley were standing near each other, their arms occasionally brushing.  You could tell they were both elated. 

Bob shifted, indicating he was about to stand.  I gently kicked him under the table.  I’m not sure what he planned to do, but knowing how direct and fierce he can be, I knew it probably wouldn’t end well.  I also didn’t care for Max to find out at that moment that I had informed Bob of his encounter.  Max was already dealing with enough just being in the same restaurant as his attacker.  Bob stayed seated, but I could tell he was exhibiting a tremendous amount of self-restraint.  He’s a man of action.

Unfortunately, I was just as frozen as Max.  I didn’t know what to do.  My heart was both racing and aching for him.  “Um… why don’t we trade places?”  I suggested.  At least he could have his back to Chad.  He nodded his approval.

From my new vantage point, I could watch the scene unfold without being obvious.  I’m not sure what I expected Chad to look like, but it wasn’t this.  He was well dressed, wearing khaki shorts and a nice polo.  He had short hair.  He looked extremely professional and would, upon first glance, seem trustworthy.  I could see how Max would possibly compare him to me - and mistakenly put his faith in him.

Chad kept glancing our way, each time smirking.  It seemed he was taking joy in Max’s discomfort.  What a piece of shit!  I could see him looking Cam over, too.  Had Max told him he had a boyfriend?  Had he figured out Cam was more than just a friend?  Hell, Ashley probably told them already.  I wondered if Mrs. Chad noticed her husband leering at two middle school boys, or was I just more attuned?

I shifted my attention to the boy sitting next to the woman.  The other boy, next to Ashley, was way too small to be a sixth grader.  This had to be Brett.  I have to admit, he was very cute.  I’d have certainly noticed him walking past me in a store and probably even had a carnal thought or two. 

Brett seemed a little small for his age, but appeared very athletic.  He had a milky complexion with short, light brown hair, slightly spiked on top.  He was wearing a FC Barcelona jersey.  When he flashed a smile, his braces were clearly visible - you know, the braces preventing Chad from using his mouth for his own gratification. 

Max mentioned Chad sharing his inklings that Brett might be gay.  From what I could see, he looked like a total jock, and not remotely effeminate.  But then again, neither do Max or Cam.  Perhaps if I heard his voice I would think differently.  Upon first glance, he sure didn’t have any mannerisms that would ping my gaydar.

Jesus, the fact that I recognized his attractiveness and saw the appeal made me feel predatory.  Are Chad and I really so different?  

Our pizza arrived, which summoned Noah and Cam to return.  Ashley returned with them to see Max.

“Well, hello there, Mr. Anti-Social,” she said sarcastically to Max.  “Are you just my friend at school or what?” she asked.  I couldn’t tell if she was miffed, hurt, or just teasing.

“No!  Sorry.  I was just having a stomach cramp,” he said.  Ashley frowned.  He really is a bad liar, but she didn’t press the matter.

“Mom and Dad had to leave town unexpectedly, so my spazzy little brother, Aron, and I are crashing with my aunt and uncle for the weekend,” she explained, sounding slightly exasperated.  “That’s Aron in the green t-shirt.  At least my cousin Brett isn’t totally obnoxious.”

Max snuck a quick glance over his shoulder.  It was so fast; he couldn’t have seen anything.  “Yeah…um, right…spazzy,” he muttered.  The boy, who looked to be nine or ten, did look like a handful.  His hair was messy, his socks didn’t match, his clothes looked grubby, and his glasses were slightly askew.

Ashley glanced at Bob and I.  Cam, ever diligent, noticed.  “Ashley, this is my father,” he said, nodding towards Bob.  “And this is Craig, Noah’s neighbor and Max’s mentor.”  

“It’s nice to meet you both,” she said politely. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I told her.  She looked surprised.  “All good,” I assured.

“Well, I’ll let you guys eat.  See you Monday,” Ashley said, patting Max on the back.  “Text me later,” she added with a grin to Noah. 

***

I’ve never seen Max eat so slowly.  He kept drinking water but avoiding his plate.  I was about to suggest we box up the pizza and eat the rest at home when Cam spoke.

“What’s going on?” Cam finally asked Max.  “You look nauseous.”

“Nothing,” Max replied meekly, shaking his head and looking down.  “Wait,” he added, pulling his phone from his pocket.  He began typing furiously. 

Cam’s phone buzzed.  He reached into his pocket and read the message.  Cam was clearly alarmed, as he suddenly stood, shocked, and turned to scan the restaurant.

“Don’t,” Max whispered, grabbing Cam’s arm.  “Just eat so we can leave.”

***

Max eventually managed to finish two slices.  Food, and not having to look upon his tormentor, seemed to mellow him.  Cam kept staring down Chad.  I could sense his frustration growing.  Like father, like son.  I alternated patting his and Max’s arms to try to soothe their anger. 

Noah was too euphoric about a random run in with Ashley and next weekend’s fishing trip to notice Max’s changed mood.  God bless him, Bob tried his best to engage Noah in talk of lures and bait, but it was clear his mind was on Chad as well.

The waitress brought the check and a box for our leftovers.  I had my credit card ready.  I wanted to get Max out of there as soon as possible.  We’d head back to my house because I knew he needed to talk. 

“May we wait outside?”  Cam suddenly asked. 

“Huh?”  Max asked. 

I looked up and noticed Chad was no longer at their table.  He must have gone to the restroom.  Cam was brilliant.  Max could leave without having to pass by his assailant.  “Of course.  Good idea.”

“C’mon,” Cam responded, pulling Max.  Noah quickly followed. 

“What are you going to do?”  Bob immediately asked. 

“Just get him home for now.  Let’s reconvene later.”

***

Noah stopped to say goodbye to Ashley - again - as I paid.  He has it bad. 

Outside, Max and Cam were standing by my car, embraced.  Noah looked them up and down.  “You make such a cute couple,” he gushed facetiously.  It wasn’t the time for humor, but in his defense, he had no idea.  Cam gave him a death glare.  “Fuck off, Noah.”

“Okay, okay!  Jesus.  Sorry.  You tease me all the time and I don’t act all butt hurt.”

Bob waited a few feet away as Cam and Max said goodbye.  I couldn’t hear their conversation, but could tell by their body language Cam was building up Max.  Eventually, they hugged tightly.  Cam rubbed Max’s back and they briefly kissed, before he grabbed his bag from my car.  Max tried to put on a smile, but it was a total facade.  I’m sure he wished Cam could stay, and I almost offered before Bob approached. 

“Goodnight,” Bob said, squeezing Max’s shoulder, adding a subtle side hug Max leaned into.  Then, he put his arm around Cam and led him away.  I think Bob wanted some time alone with his son to digest everything.

Noah climbed in front while Max laid flat across the back seat.  “Better now?”  I asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said.  “I just want to go home.”  I could tell he was almost in tears.  He spoke in an uncharacteristically rote tone. 

“What’s your deal, anyway?”  Noah asked indignantly.  “Ashley thinks you’re pissed at her for some reason.”

Max took a deep breath and sighed.  “You explain.  Please?”  He was almost pleading. 

“Noah,” I said, getting his attention. 

“Yeah?”

“That guy that was with Ashley, her uncle…”

“What about him?  He seemed chill.”

“That was Chad.”

“Right.  Chad.  Ashley’s uncle.  She introduced us.  So?”  he asked, not making the connection. 

“As in THE CHAD who hurt Max.  And the boy in the Barca jersey was Brett,” I responded, giving him a look.

His eyes widened. 

“Holy shit!  No fucking way!  How is that even possible?”  He looked distressed.  The realization that his girlfriend’s uncle was the same man who hurt his best friend was clearly unsettling.

I nodded.  “Let’s get home.  We can talk more there.” 

***

When I was a kid, my family took road trips.  Our “vacations” were always to visit relatives, and I was relegated to the cramped backseat of my father’s Pontiac for hours - and even days - on end.  Some might look back on memories of family travel during their youth with fondness or nostalgia, but I always found them miserable.

I’m not sure which aspects I loathed the most.  Was it how numb, stiff, and sore my butt and back would get after being stuck on a bench with little padding?  The bleak scenery of endless fields of dusty crops?  Maybe the stifling heat, since we were too poor (or my dad too cheap) to have the AC repaired.  Perhaps it was the profane bickering of my parents as they inevitably sniped at one another.  Or it could be the smell.  Have you ever been captive to a mix of stale cigarette smoke, exhaust fumes, body odor, and manure?  

My point is, I have a deep reservoir of negative vehicular recollections to draw comparison from.  Still, nothing I ever experienced was as uncomfortable as enduring the 27-minute drive home from Pizza Pit. 

As shock set in for Noah, Max began processing.  Their silence was deafening, and I wasn’t sure what to say or do to make it better.  At that moment, I felt completely useless.  It isn’t fair for eighth graders to have to deal with any of this shit.

I thought music might ease the tension, and turned on the radio.  The inane commercials aside, at least it was something different to focus on.  The station was classic rock and Bohemian Rhapsody came on.  It’s one of my favorite Queen songs and soon I was doing my best impression of the scene from Wayne’s World where Wayne and Garth rock out.  If nothing else, the boys might laugh at my cringiness.

I thought wrong.  Max sat upright, gripping both front seats.  I looked in the rearview mirror to see his face etched with rage and panic. 

“Turn off that fucking song!”  he demanded.  I was stunned, but pulled into the parking lot of a CVS.

“Sorry.  I know I sing like shit.  I thought you might get a laugh out of it,” I said, turning down the volume, looking over my shoulder.

He sat back, arms crossed.  “No, I didn’t...just please…turn it off.”  I could tell he was ashamed of his outburst.  It was so weird.  It seemed almost visceral, as if he reacted without even thinking.  He started to cry, out of humiliation or feeling overwhelmed I’m not sure. 

Noah was freaking out seeing Max so despondent.  He was chewing on his collar and punching the side panel of the passenger door.  He felt as helpless as I did, crushed by Max’s crash. 

“Hold on,” Noah announced, opening his door.  He joined Max in the backseat, scooting to the middle.  “It’s just a song.  I thought you liked Queen.”

Max leaned into Noah.  “I did, before…”

“Before what?” I asked.

“Chad!  He was singing that stupid fucking song when he took me back, after…like nothing happened,” Max blurted out.  “Can you please just get us home?” 

***

I reached back and grazed Max’s bare knee.  He seemed to calm slightly at my touch.  I told him, and Noah, to breathe.  I wanted nothing more than to hold and soothe Max myself, but it would be difficult to drive and comfort at the same time.  I was glad Noah was there to console while I drove.  We’d be home soon and I could take over.

Noah…talk about a kid beyond his years.  They just don’t make 13-year-olds with his poise or intuitive protectiveness.  Once settled in the backseat, he gently pulled Max to him.  Out of instinct, Noah put his arm around Max, who thankfully began to come down, which made it much easier to focus on the road. 

Upon our arrival, Max was almost catatonic.  Noah tried in vain to rouse him from the car, but I sent him ahead to open the door and turn on the lights.

“Get a wet washcloth, bottle of water, and put a pillow on the couch,” I instructed Noah as I tossed him my keys.

“Max, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to lift you up and carry you inside now.”

Now, Max has a small frame, but he is sturdy.  I wasn’t sure the last time I deadlifted 110 pounds and wondered if I was going to throw out my back or pull my groin or something, but my adrenaline was still pumping and managed it with ease.

As we made it inside, I recalled the only other time I carried Max like this.  He was giggling then.  It was from the bathroom to our bed, in Mexico - before we made love for the first time.  It’s amazing the difference a month makes.

I shuddered at the thought and suddenly felt a wave of immense guilt.  The truth is, Chad never would have happened had I not crossed the line in Cozumel.  Cam and Max wouldn’t have broken up and Max wouldn’t have felt compelled to seek out a man, for either sex or intimacy.  It made me feel terrible, but Max was the priority.  I have a lifetime to self-loathe. 

It did make one thing absolutely certain in my mind:  if it’s the last thing I do, that mother fucker is going to pay. 

***

Max lay on the couch, completely silent.  I tried to relax him, rubbing his back and delicately wiping his face with the damp cloth.  He eventually closed his eyes, though I wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or just deep in thought.

Noah sat in my recliner, as lost as I was.  He was mumbling and repeatedly running his hands through his hair.  It was clear he was worried about his best friend.  Like me, he was probably trying to figure out what magic could be done to return to our jovial moods of a few hours prior.

“Is he asleep?” Noah asked in a whisper. 

“I think so,” I replied.  Max’s breathing was shallow and his body slumped.  “That really shook him,” I added.

“Yeah,” Noah answered despondently.  “I feel so stupid, not even noticing.  God, what kind of a friend am I?” he added, clenching his fists.

“Don’t beat yourself up; you were distracted by a very cute girl.”

He sighed.  “Yeah, well, I think maybe I should break that off.  I mean I can’t be dating a girl whose uncle did that.”

Max lurched up.  “What?  No way are you breaking up because of this!”

Noah was startled.  “I thought you were asleep.”

“No, just zoned out.  Until I heard that bullshit!”

“It’s not ‘bullshit’,” Noah protested.  “You’re my bro and way more important than any girl.  I don’t want things to be weird for you.”

“Dude, stop.  Ashley is awesome.  She has no idea her uncle is like that.”

“Maybe I should warn her or something,” Noah suggested.

I had to interject.  “This whole thing is very delicate,” I explained.  “We all need to be on the same page.  I doubt Ashley is in danger, and her little brother is probably still too young for him.  We have time.  Let’s keep this between us for now, okay?”  I have to admit, I cringed at the thought of Chad brutalizing little Aron.  Even observing from afar, he didn’t seem to know whether he’s coming or going.  He struck me as particularly vulnerable. 

The truth was, I wasn’t sure how much time we actually had.  As much as Chad was blatantly leering at Max and Cam, it was clear he was wound up and enjoying himself, and Brett really is very cute. 

Noah nodded.  “I just wish I could do something.”

“You already have,” Max replied firmly.

“Huh?” Noah asked.

“Noah, dude… you’re the best friend I could ever ask for.  That’s enough.”  

“Same,” Noah replied, smiling.  He walked over to Max and they exchanged fist bumps, before Max pulled Noah into a quick bro-hug.  He wasn’t letting the depth of the moment slide by with a mere first bump.  I love these two.

***

“I should probably get home,” Noah finally said after some awkward silence.

“Yeah, me too,” Max said.  He sounded like it was the last thing in the world he actually wanted.

“Would you prefer to stay here tonight?” I asked.  I knew he needed as much comforting as possible and with Stacy out of the loop, he wasn’t going to get it at home.

“Can I?”  he asked, perking up for the first time.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I answered.  “Assuming your mom can handle being away from her boy for two nights in a row.”  I knew from experience how challenging that could be. 

***

I turned on the TV to give Max something to focus on and quickly texted Stacy.  I told her Max was exhausted from the sleepover and painting and wanted to crash here.  I also subtly suggested he might have eaten too much pizza.  She accepted it without concern, which was both a relief and slightly surprising.  Maybe it’s different when you’re a full-time single parent, but I almost ache when I’m without Max and I wondered if she would object to being apart from him again.

I opened a beer and sat back on the couch, handing Max a Sprite.  It isn’t often he drinks two sodas in one day, but if anyone deserved to splurge after tonight, it was him.

Max looked up from his phone, having just been furiously texting, and immediately crawled into my lap - like a five-year-old might.  I stroked his hair.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Chad, and that you had to see him again tonight.  I promise, we’re going to make sure he learns to behave.”

“It’s okay,” he answered, looking up at me with those bright blue eyes.  “I already feel better.  It’s just, I thought I was putting it all behind me, and then...”

“I get it.  You think you’re over something and then you get triggered and it all comes flooding back,” I reassured him.  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.  You know Noah, Cam, and I are all here for you, right?  Bob too,” I added.

“I know.  That’s why I feel better.  I know I’ll never be alone,” Max acknowledged.  “Cam told me he and his dad talked all about it, even followed Chad home.”  I started to panic.  I hadn’t been able to tell him I shared his secret with Bob.  “And Noah…was he seriously going to break up with his first girlfriend to make sure I was comfortable?  That’s crazy.”

I was surprised how nonchalantly Max seemed to take Bob knowing, transitioning straight to his incredulity about his best friend’s willingness to sacrifice his own happiness.  “Noah loves you, Max.  You’re closer than brothers.  Everyone sees it,” I explained.  “Still, I’m glad you spoke up.  Ashley has no idea about her uncle and there’s no reason for him to miss out on being with someone as cool as her.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Cam said Bob wanted to beat Chad’s ass right in the parking lot.”

Oh boy.  Here we go.

“About that,” I began.  “I wanted to tell you - and there just hadn’t been a good moment…you know I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to handle Chad, so I discussed it with Bob, trying to get his help.  He knew before Cam said anything.”

Max has been understandably sensitive anytime he assumes he’s being talked about or his personal business is a topic of pity.  He’s also been defensive - even ashamed - about Chad victimizing him and his own ‘impulsive stupidity’ for putting himself in the situation to begin with.  As well as I can read Max, I really wasn’t sure how he would react.

“Yeah, Cam mentioned.  It’s okay.  I figured Cam would tell him, anyway.  It’s a miracle he never shared about us in Mexico because he tells Bob everything else,” Max shared. 

It reminded me of how Max essentially tells me everything.  I wondered if that’s the reason he has always seen me as so fatherly?  Although, Cam clearly hadn’t told Bob much about their sexual escapades. 

“Besides, I trust you.  If you thought he would help, it’s fine.”

I just patted his arm as he returned his attention to the TV.  Nothing else needed to be said.  He really is an incredible boy.  He’s almost too pure.  It baffles me how I was so lucky to stumble upon him, and it leaves me equally dumbfounded that his own father squandered it all.

I couldn’t help but notice his head was resting in my lap, inches from my cock.  A few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to get the thought of him sucking me out of my mind and would already be rock hard.  But things are different now.

***

When the show finished, Max intimated he was tired.  “Did my bedroom get put back together enough for me to sleep in?” he asked.  ‘His bedroom’.  God, I love the sound of that.  I really do wish it was his, full time. 

It was pretty much there, but I’m sure it still reeks.  Plus, as upset as he’s been, I couldn’t fathom the thought of Max sleeping alone.  “Um, you could just sleep with me,” I answered.  “It will still smell like paint upstairs.”

“Okay,” he grinned.  “I was hoping you’d offer.”  I sure hope he wasn’t scheming for sex because he’s hard enough to resist.

***

As Max headed to the master bedroom, I grabbed a spare toothbrush from the closet.  He was already in the bathroom with his shirt off when I handed it to him. 

“Two minutes.  My electric has a timer, so you can just stop when I’m done.”

He smiled.  “Yes sir.”

Once our teeth were clean, Max stripped to his boxers and gave me a look.  He clearly wanted to ask me something but seemed unsure.

“What is it?”  I asked as I slipped into a baggy shirt and pajama bottoms.

He was being very coy.  “It’s just, I was wondering if we could, you know, sleep naked like we did in Mexico.”

I bristled.  There was a part of me that desperately wanted to, but I knew better.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  You just got back together with Cam and neither of us want to be tempted to do anything inappropriate.”

Max sighed.  “It isn’t like that.  I know we can’t do stuff anymore.  I’m not even horny.  I mean, I’ve cummed like five times in the last 24 hours.”  Wow, well, I didn’t realize he had gotten off that much.

“I know sleeping nude is more comfortable, but still.  It doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Max looked disappointed.  Hurt, almost. 

“It’s just, when we slept together in Mexico…” he trailed off and looked embarrassed.  “I slept better than I ever had before.  I never felt as safe or loved, not even with Cam.  I know it’s dumb, but after today, I just thought…”

I looked at him.  For all his muscles, he really did seem small and vulnerable.

“If it means that much to you, you can take off your undies, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to.”

Max beamed as he slid down his trunks.  There he was, in all his beautiful glory, about to crawl into my bed and want to be cuddled all night.  Seriously, how did this happen?

I can’t quite explain it, but I wasn’t aroused.  It occurred to me that when I’ve seen Max naked, at least from the front, he’s always been erect.  There’s this residual, desperate hardness a boy experiences during puberty, but it was absent.

I noticed, perhaps for the first time, how boyish Max still looks when he’s flaccid.  He has a very small tuft of pubes at the base of his penis, but I was taken aback by how slight he seemed.  He’s definitely a grower.

As Max bounced into bed, I pulled back the covers.  I might normally chide him for being so boisterous in Kim's spot, but his enthusiasm is just so endearing I can’t muster the will to correct him. 

“Craig?”

“Yeah bud?”

“I understand why you don’t want to get naked, but will you take off your shirt?”

“Max…”

He interrupted.  “I promise I’m not trying to start anything.  It's weird and corny, but I, um, like petting your chest hair.  It’s soft and relaxes me,” he explained sheepishly.  “Please?”

I sighed and slipped off the t-shirt I had just put on.  Max never seems to mind, but I know I’m past my prime physically.  I’m not horribly out of shape, but I definitely have a dad bod and a slightly bigger gut than I’m comfortable with. 

Max laid his head on my stomach and giggled. 

“Hey, be nice,” I said.  “Most guys aren’t ripped like Cam and you.”

“I like it.  It’s squishy,” he gushed.  “When I first put my head on your tummy, some of the hairs tickled my ear and it felt funny, that’s all.”  I swear his voice sounded higher than normal.  If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was trying to act like he was seven or eight.  I bet he was an utterly charming little dude, and it made me sad that I mostly missed that part of his life. 

Max shifted.  He still had his head on my stomach, but we were perpendicular.  He turned to face me before rubbing my chest hair.  It didn’t seem like a very comfortable position, but his eyes were closed and he seemed relaxed.  I gently stroked his hair and down his shoulder.  He looked totally content and was still completely soft.  This wasn’t sexual for either of us.

“Thanks for letting me spend the night and always being there for me and stuff,” he said through a yawn.

“Of course.  You’re my boy.  Nothing will ever change that.”

Max had a look of bliss on his face.  “I love you, Dad.” 

“I love you too,” I responded, choking back a tear.  “You’re the best son a father could ask for.  Now, go to sleep.”

And with that, he was out.  His arm slumped and he started lightly snoring.  I took in the scene and soaked it up.  It’s hard to remember time before Max.  I know it’s only been a few months, but at this point, I simply cannot imagine not having him in my life.

I let him lie like that for a few minutes, but knew I wouldn’t sleep like that.  I gently adjusted him to a more normal position and wrapped my arms around his torso and back while pushing his legs out so his junk wasn’t rubbing against me.

We were bare chest to bare chest, his shut eyes framing that angelic face.  He really was adorable, and I could have watched him sleep all night.  Instead, I pulled him closer, kissed his forehead, and he instinctively snuzzled my chest. 

I never slept more soundly in my life.

*** End of Chapter 33 ***

Author’s Notes:

This chapter is a little shorter than our recent additions.  I’m not sure if that is a good thing or bad thing, but it seemed like a good place to stop.

As usual, feedback and comments are always appreciated:  craigpnifty@protonmail.com