Date: Mon, 17 May 2010 14:19:55 -0500 From: Joseph Biggers Subject: Max Thieriot and Allan Hyde, Chapter 3 "Max Thieriot and Allan Hyde" by Joseph Biggers Disclaimer: This story is entirely fiction. I do not know Max Thieriot or Allan Hyde and this story is not meant to be an actual depiction of either of their lives. I do not make claim to know their true sexuality nor is this story intended to imply that either of them are actually homosexual. Have any questions, comments, criticism, or insults? Contact me at josephbiggers@gmail.com Chapter 3 The day following my mile high adventure with Allan, was a boring day. It was a chilly day so it was too cold to go swimming, too cold to do anything really. For awhile in the morning I sat and watched TV. At noon I got up and made something small for lunch. After I took a shower It was back to the TV again. I was just starting to fall asleep when my phone violently vibrated against the glass dining room table. I think I loved it when my phone said "New Txt from Allan H." It kind of made my day. Allan: Good Afternoon. Me: how r u? Allan: bored to death. Me: me 2, havent done anything all day. Then there was a pause in our conversation. So convenient, to just send someone a text message, but how excruciating painful it is to wait for them to respond sometimes. Although I knew a part of me liked Allan, and enjoyed his company, I knew then that it was mostly just lust. Allan: What are you up to? Me: Nothing at all, want to come over? Allan: To your place? Me: Yes, I have my own apartment. Allan: What's your address, I will call a cab. Me: I need to get out of the house. Allan: Soooo, we're not hanging out at your house? Me: No I mean ill come get you, what's your address? As I awaited Allan's next message I quickly ran for my bathroom and hastily brushed my teeth. I stripped off my t-shirt and sweat pants and put on some tighter fitting jeans and a tighter fitting t-shirt. I received Allan's final message and while I printed the directions I gave myself one last look in the full body mirror that hung on the bathroom door. I had to make sure I looked good as I had a compulsion to continue to impress him. Traffic was terrible, and this afternoon I was impatient. Not a good combination, but I got my car through the city without a scratch. When I arrived at the small, but nice building I picked up my phone to let him know I was here. "Hello," Allan greeted me with his cute accent. "Hey I'm here," I advised him. "I know I am walking down my front stairs," Allan said. I turned to look and saw him walking almost in slow motion. I hung up my phone, no need to say bye or anything as he would reach my car before the call was ended. He grabbed for the door but I had to unlock it. "For a moment I thought you were not coming," Allan told me as he sat down. "Sorry traffic is very bad today." I apologized. "No, it is fine," he assured me. An awkward silence came over the conversation. I turned the radio on in hopes of eliminating all quietness, but didn't turn it up too loud so as to kill any potential conversation. "So what are we going to do at your house?" Allan questioned me. "Whatever, we can watch a movie or whatever," I answered. "Are you hungry at all?" "I am always hungry," he said with a cute sincerity. I could not help but smile for a moment. The more I observed him, the more I realized that Allan Hyde was a different kind of "hot." I once heard someone use the term, "adorkable" and at this moment it was the closest thing I could think of to describe Allan. He wore a plain black sweater, which I loved the way it hugged his chest, his sides, and his stomach. His pants were tight fitting also however due to him sitting down I could not see how well they fit him. His pants were also black, kind of morbid I thought. "What sounds good to you?" I asked him. "I could eat anything," he said look full of himself. "Well for our first date..." I stopped talking for a moment. I felt very embarrassed that I used that terminology. I felt so dumb for talking before thinking about what I was saying. I wondered for a moment that if by calling this a date if I had ruined it with him. I looked to him from the corner of my eyes, hoping for some type of reassurance, but did not get any. He stared through the window at the street before us, almost emotionless. I hated not knowing what he was thinking, and jumped to the conclusion that it was bad. Then his gaze slowly turned towards me, and he stared at me for a moment before saying, "you were saying that for our first date..." I was immediately soothed that he didn't think bad things about me, that he felt the same way about what we were doing as I did. "For our first date," I continued, "I'll let you pick the restaurant. "Really?" Allan questioned me. "Really," I reaffirmed my statement. He thought for a moment and I continued to drive in the direction of my apartment. "Any ideas?" I asked. "This might seem kind of selfish, but there is a new Danish restaurant I heard about, and it seems like it's been forever since I have tasted anything from home." Allan explained. "What is Danish food like?" I inquired. "Well it is more like a deli, we can get sandwiches and I hear they have the best rye bread in town." He explained in better detail. I hated rye bread, but this I kept as a secret to myself. "Sounds good to me, " I lied. With that, Allan led the way through the city to this deli he kept hearing about. Surprisingly the drive to this deli was only about ten minutes from my house by the beach. We went inside and I allowed him to order sandwiches for both of us as he plainly was the expert on this. When we sat down to eat I was a bit apprehensive to take my first bite in front of him, hoping I wouldn't spit out the rye in absolute disgust. I unwrapped the sandwich from it's wax paper, stopped breathing through my nose and took a bite. "This is actually pretty good," I announced after my first bite. "I know!" Allan said with a bit of excitement, and the most adorable twinkle in his eye. No I was not lying, the bread wasn't as dry as I've had in the past. It wasn't the rye that I hated. Nothing to write back to Denmark about I'm sure, but it was pretty decent. "What kind of movies are you into?" I asked him. "I could sit through anything." He said. I hated when people responded with vague answers, especially if you asked them a direct question. With Allan I enjoyed it. It was not annoying, or not like he couldn't make a decision or anything like that. Instead I found his vague answers to be something more like a book I wanted to read badly. "But if you had to pick a favorite movie, what would it be?" I continued to question him. "Really that is not fair, I couldn't say I have just one that is my favorite," he said before taking another bite of his sandwich. "What type of movies do you like?" I became relentless in my quest for knowledge. He thought about this question for a moment before answering, "honestly, mostly revenge, I think revenge makes a good story, after that I like to be...um...fascineret. "Fascineret?" I inquired. "You know, not like fascinated, but confused and excited," he tried to explain. "Do you mean intrigued?" "Yes that's it!" "Like a good thriller, you like mysteries?" "Yes I do," he said with slight nods of his head and the cutest smile of the day. I couldn't get enough of him, he was, at this moment, beyond words. I finished up my sandwich and got up to get a refill on my drink. As the lemonade slowly poured from the fountain, I stared at the back of his head. A part of me wanted to reach out and run my hands through his rough yet soft short hair. "That sandwich was excellent," I said sitting back down at the table. "Really, I had no idea you liked sliced red fox meat," he said taking the last bite of his sandwich. I stared at him for a moment in silence before asking, "WHAT?" "I am just kidding Max, it was turkey." I let out a sigh and a nervous laugh. "You're such a dork," I said with a smile. That afternoon found us watching bad horror movies. My collection was huge and we'd have an endless supply of things to make fun of. "I swear if he says rave to the grave one more time I'm gonna hate him." I commented. "Yeah, its wonderful how nobody else at this party notices that half the people are eating the other ones alive," he added. "Maybe if they weren't so busy dancing, if you could call it that," I continued to make fun of the movie. With that a scene came up where a zombie pulled someone's head off. "Yes because that's possible," Allan joked. "I can do that," I said. "Really?" Allan playfully questioned me. "Yes, wanna see?" I asked. "Try," he said tilting his head forward. I did not budge a muscle, I did not move an inch. I sat concentrating on his head, cute as it was. "Well?" He antagonized me. "Just one minute," I assured him. "One minute for what?" "I'm gonna do it with my mind." With that he laughed and said, "and you called me the dork." The movie ended and we put in another one. Somewhere during giant mosquitoes, before leprechauns in space, he fell asleep with his head resting in my lap. I've never had anything like this before. It felt so strange, so weird, so forbidden, so natural. I wanted to run my fingers through his short hair, but I didn't want to wake him up. Usually when people imagine the person they might be attracted to, they imagine perfection. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, mouth face. People imagine tall, dark, handsome, and symmetrical. I stared at Allan, who was twitching a bit in his sleep and realized that he was none of these things. His hair grows in opposite directions and at different speeds. His ears are small and sit awkwardly on the lower sides of his head. He was shorter than 5'9" and his legs and arms seemed short also. His finger nails were bitten and they sat at the ends of short stubby fingers. His teeth are too small for an adult. His nose was the biggest feature on his face. His crooked eye brows framed his crooked eyes. Sometimes when he talked he accentuated things from the corner of his mouth which made him look funny at times. I loved it all, every last imperfection gave me chills and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was the most beautiful person I've laid eyes on. I watched his chest and stomach, rise and fall with each deep breath he took, and then I stared a bit lower. "What are you looking at?" He asked, making it obvious that he was awake. Right off I was embarrassed and looked away quickly. Although I had him in my mouth, and me in his, I still was ashamed that he caught me staring at him like that. "Nothing, I was just thinking." I lied. He lifted up his head, then back down again on my lap before rubbing his cheek on my hardening dick. "This does not feel like nothing," he commented. I turned red in the face. Normally I was more prude, or should we say reserved. "Are all Europeans this bold?" I asked him. "Only the ones who know what they want," he answered sitting up. "You know what you want?" I asked him sitting up from my slump. "Of course I do," he said in his deep mixed accent. "What is that?" He did not say anything from that point. He simply got on his knees on the couch and leaned in to kiss me. I half lied down so that I could pull him on top of me. I weighed more than he did and I myself was kind of a strong person, so this did not bother me, I barely felt him laying on me. But then his arms began to shake. "It's okay, I can handle it," I assured him. "I don't want to hurt you." "You won't hurt me." "How do you know?" "Just trust me Allan." "Okay." He rested entirely on top of me. At first shifting his weight slowly to make sure that I was not hurt in any way. My first thought was to push out his elbows so that he had no choice but to collapse on top of me, but I figured I did not know him well enough to play rough yet. The feeling of his weight was an absolute turn on. Instantly I felt my dick get hard, yet it was trapped in my jeans by Allan's force. I am not sure if he felt it pressing into him but he did begin to kiss my neck which felt fantastic. His hair smelled good, not an identifiable scent, but I inhaled it's aroma every chance I got. His mouth was warm against my neck, on the lobe of my ears, on my collar line, then it was cold where his tongue had been. This gave me goosebumps, and made me begin to grind into him. He moaned lightly as he made his way to my chin then kissed me softly on the lips. "Allan," I whispered. "Yes," he answered before kissing the area behind my jaw line, below my ear. "You're beautiful," I admitted. He kissed my shoulder before coming back face to face to look me in the eyes. "Thank you Max, but I do not think you are supposed to call a guy beautiful," he whispered with a smile and cute nod of his head. "Sorry," I said with a smile in return. We kissed for a few more moments. His tongue was soft. His lips were also soft yet pushed into mine with strength. His breath was warm and tasted, or smelled, of mint something. He was never sloppy, never pushy. He was a master at kissing me, almost as if he has been doing it for years, well organized. "Max," Allan whispered. "Yes." "Do you like me?" I kissed the tip of his nose. "I like you Allan." "I want you to do something," he said. A few short minutes later, we were in my room. I lied on my bed and Allan sat on my lower stomach with his legs kneeling on both of my sides. We were completely naked. He looked incredible as he hovered over me. "I've never done anything like this before," I shamelessly admitted. "Neither have I," he whispered with a smile. He looked at me with inquisitive eyes. He looked at my chest and placed his hands on it, leaning forward for another kiss. As our lips locked again I felt his lower body shift down to my lower stomach. Then he shifted further down, and further down, until I could feel him pressed against me. We still kissed as I began to grind into him. He began to shake again, to my slight disappointment. "You don't have to hold yourself up." "I am not," he whispered into my ear, "this just, feels so fantastic." "You feel fantastic," I whispered back. He slid down a bit further and sat straight up. "Are you sure?" I asked him. He didn't say anything, he just nodded. Then he grabbed my dick from beneath him and lined it up. Slowly he slid down the slightest bit, the look on his face was first of discomfort, than of relief, than he smiled. I could feel that just the tip had gone in. He felt kind of tight. Allan slid further down, slowly. At first the pressure told me that I was not going to penetrate him any further, but the more he slid down the easier it got. The pressure stopped as the rest of my dick easily slid into him. The feeling I had inside of him was explosive. I looked for his eyes as he was looking for mine. He let out a moan with a smile of ecstasy on his face. This was the moment that I realized our eyes were the same color. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Beyond," he calmed me. First he took small steps and slowly slid up so that just the tip of me was in him. Than slowly he came back down. His muscles worked me and he gasped in air each time he fully took me back in. It felt great, but this was still slow, and this was still careful as we were both delicate in this area. After a few minutes he picked up a faster rhythm. It seemed that he no longer had any discomfort and he looked like he loved pulling me in and out of him. I began a motion with him so that I could thrust as far into him as possible. It felt so good feeling his warm ass engulf my dick, tighten around my head and take it all back in again. His body felt tense, hot, fantastic as he quivered and shook as I fucked him. The look in his eyes was ecstatic and the sounds of his moans and gasps for air through curled in lips made me want to fuck him even more. I sat up as we continued our motion and I started to kiss him again. I grabbed him by the backs of his legs just below his ass and laid him on his back. I slowly slid my dick back into his ass to make sure that this position didn't cause him any pain. He closed his eyes, curled in his lips and pushed back into me. I took each one of his legs, and rested his ankles on my shoulder. Slowly at first I fucked him, then after a few minutes I went in, deeper and harder as I leaned over him to kiss him while we fucked. He looped his arms around my neck in a kind of way to hold up his upper body as I thrust into him, over and over again, causing him to shiver and moan beneath me. I used my right hand to hold me up on the bed but my left hand found his hard dick. I began to jack him off in unison with my fucking and both of us moaned and gasped for air at different times. The heat we produced was immense, and I could feel an incredible force every time I closed the space between us to lean in for another kiss. A few more minutes and I felt him tighten around my ass. Immediately after that I felt my stomach and chest get hit by warm spurts of his cum as he let out a loud moan. He buried his head into my pillow but without luck was lying on his back and failed at being quiet. I didn't care, everything he was doing, feeling him grip my dick with his ass was so overwhelming that I could no longer hold it. Again came that feeling up my spine, down to my toes, up the middle of my legs and to the tip of my dick with each spurt of cum. I came so hard that it was unbearable and I felt as if my toes broke into a curl, I bit my lips hard and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. With no strength left I collapsed on top of him. Moments later my arms, my legs, and my face felt insanely numb mostly likely from the lack of oxygen as I hyperventilated. He hugged me tightly to his chest as he kissed the sides of my sweaty head and I kissed his sweaty chest. I also held him tight with my arms wrapped around his shoulders, both of us still slightly shaking. I slowly pulled my softening dick from inside him as we both flinched from how sensitive we were to this touch. Our sex was so dirty, but at the same time so pure. I did not know if I loved him, or if I just wanted to fuck him. I was certain that lying in his arms that evening, us alone in my bedroom as the world went on without us, was the only place I wanted to be.