The Odd Ballad of Linus Lewis

By Lucas Boulderguard

In college, I played music in The Green Bean Machine. It was a real dive of a coffee shop on the edge of campus. Scuffed tiles, shelves of dingy books, mismatched tables and chairs, and hideous artwork on the walls. A naked light bulb hung above its tiny stage.

One afternoon, while playing a few riffs, I raised my head, and Linus Lewis sat the table directly in front of me. I didn't know him, but I knew who he was; everyone did. In our little pond, he was the big fish—a MacDonald's all-American basketball forward who somehow ended up playing for Ralls College. He was all the local news rags ever talked about and his game reel even played on ESPN's Sports Center a few times.

He kicked back with his arms folded across his stomach, and he listened with his eyes closed. He reminded me of a Viking. Tall, blonde, and a mop of scraggly blond hair. A thin beard and blue eyes. Rugged and fierce.

When the last chord of Snake Creeps Down rang out, he lifted his chin, and smiled. He opened his eyes and we looked at each other for the first time. Something about his gaze made me feel like I stood before a vampire—one who could look inside of me and read every thought in desire. A peculiar paranoia stirred within me, as if he somehow knew that I had downloaded his picture from the athletic department website and masturbated to it.

"Nice tunes," he said. He leaned forward, and I glimpsed the muscles in his arm, as he flipped a five into my guitar case.

I didn't say anything—not even 'thank you'. My mouth gaped open and I stared.

He stood and my eyes were instantly glued to the sway of his cargo shorts. The fabric clung to his junk and such a way that made me think he was freeballing. My own staff stiffened a little at the sight of him.

He reached up his hand to shake mine. My guitar hung from my neck, covering any excitement that might have been visible in my pants.

"What's your name, man?" He asked.

I took his hand, savoring the warmth of his touch and the strength of his grip. "I'm Austin."

"Austin, I'm Linus. You sound good, man."

He released his grip, turned, and swaggered away with a slow gait that suggested he knew I was watching him. His shoulders rocking, his back swaying, and his tight butt cheeks shifting. Of course, I watched him. It was like ballet. 

I played a slow arpeggio as he paused to talk with Jarvis, the old hippie who owned The Green Bean Machine. I couldn't hear what they talked about, but after a minute, Linus continued toward the door. He paused, glanced back at me, gave an old cowboy nod, and went out the door.


The Odd Ballad of Linus Leaving played in my mind relentlessly in the same way that a sexy scene from a movie tends to stay with you. I pleasured myself in the shower that evening as I thought about him, but I never thought of him as anything more than a fantasy. Though we attended the same college, our paths seldom crossed, and I had no reason to believe that he was anything but straight.

By the following afternoon, the buzz had worn off, and I didn't think much more about him.
Early the afternoon, I was walking across campus when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

BECCA: You have a lesson booked for 3.

Becca was a friend of mine from the music department. She coordinated student lessons. Though I was signed up to give guitar lessons, no one had signed up with me all year. Most days it meant that I had some free time in the practice room with no one bothering me.

I thumbed a quick reply: who?

BECCA: Don't know. Some guy.

Me: Alright, I'll be there.

I arrived at the music department a few minutes early. Becca sat at the desk tapping her fingers. She handed me his student folder. "Room 9."

I glanced at a mostly-blank application. Name: Linus. Experience: None.

"Oh, fuck.." I muttered.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Is this Linus Lewis?"

"I don't know him."

"The basketball player guy... Tall Viking-looking, dude."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

I tucked his folder under my arm and shuffled down the hall. I paused outside of Room 9 and glanced through the window. He sat with a reddish guitar in his lap. His eyes focused on the strings. I sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. Ran my fingers through my air.

When I shoved the door open, he looked up at me.

"Hey, Austin. Meet Mr. Zubiri."

"Mister Who?"

He held his guitar out with two hands. "This was my granddad's. He called it Mister Zubiri after the Basque guitar-maker who made it. I think it's Bloodwood."

"It looks nice." I strummed the strings with my thumb, while he continued to hold it. A mellow tone echoed off the walls.

He pulled the guitar back into his lap and adjusted his hold on it. "After he died, I always meant to learn how to play it. Never did."

"So you're gonna learn now?"

"Try to, at least. I think I owe it to Mister Zubiri."

"How so?"

"Granddad always said that a fine instrument will make ya feel like there's another living soul with ya...singing at ya. That's how I felt when Granddad played, and when I heard you play."

"Wow... that's..." I never expected to hear someone like Linus talk that way. Such depth and feeling. 

"I know. That sounds stupid."

"No... It's cool," was all I could think to say. "So, let's do this for Mr. Zubiri."

He grinned. "Let's do this."

I put my hands on his shoulders and leaned him forward. Showed him where to place his feet. Slid my hands down to his elbows. "Your elbows should be about here."


"Posture's really important, especially when you're starting out."

He turned his head toward me. Smiled again. "Posture's always important."

"It is..." My cock twitched and I found myself feeling thankful that I wore jeans. A little excitement wouldn't show. I felt that dreamy, light-headed feeling as I touched him and helped him position his fingers on the fret-board.

Touching him, feeling the heat of his body as I stoond close to him, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his body spray, I nearly lost my mind. I could have shot an intimate film of touching. My arm under his. My fingers on his. His breath on me as he spoke.

I didn't watch the clock and Linus seemed engrossed in his lesson. When Becca tapped on the glass, three hours had passed. "You guys gonna practice all night?"

Linus glanced at his watch. "Shit, I'm late for practice!"

"Sorry, I wasn't watching the time."

Linus patted my back and hurried out the door. "We'll do this again."

Becca stood there with her arms crossed, grinning at me. "Well?"

"Well what? Nothing happened."

"I'm keeping my eye on you."


The following day the basketball team left for a series of away-games. I got busy with other things, and didn't think much more about him.

Several weeks later, I was sleeping off a hangover one Sunday morning when my phone rang.

I glanced at the screen. I didn't recognize the number, and I was about ready to let it go to voice-mail, when I finally hit the green button. "'lo?"

"Sorry, man. Did I wake you?"

I didn't recognize the voice at first. "Who is this?"

"It's Linus, man."

"Who's Linus-man? Is that like Spider-man? Batman? Some sort of action hero?"

He snickered. "Yes. I run around beating up bad buys with my out-of-tune guitar."

"Oh, that Linus!"

"Can you come over? I wanna show you what I've been working on."

"You mean you and Mister Zubiri?"



"In an hour maybe."

"Yeah, that's cool. Where are ya?"

He told me where he was in the athletic dorm and I was dressed and out the door five minutes later.


When I entered the athletic dorms, a large man who reminded me of the dad on Family Matters gawked at me. I'm not sure if he was a security guard or desk clerk, but he acted like he thought he was in the Secret Service.

"Woah... Woah... Where do ya think you're going?

"Room 237."

"No, sir! You're not on the team; you don't go in the dorm."

I stopped in my tracks. "Linus asked me to come."

"Linus? Linus Lewis?"


"Linus asked you to come?"

"Yeah, I'm teaching him guitar."

"Hold on." He picked up the phone.

"Hey, Linus around?"

He listened a minute. Nodded. "There's some kid down here..." He covered the phone and looked at me. "What's your name?"


"Says his name's Austin.  Says he's teaching him guitar."

He listened a second. Nodded. "Alright." Listened a little more. "Alright, but it's on you. If Coach finds out, I don't know nothing about it."

He hung up the phone. "Up the stairs to the second floor. Last door on the right."

"Thank you."  I strolled to the stairs.

"Hey," he hollered after me. I glanced back at him.

"I find out you're dealing drugs and I'm gonna chop your dick off, alright?”

"Ah, the lesser known War on Drugs.”


A kid with a shaved at scowled at me when he opened the door. "You're Austin?" Surprise was evident in his tone.

"Uh... yeah."

"I was expecting Eddie Vedder or some shit."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

He made a come-in motion with his hand and held the door while I walked into a hideous attempt at school spirit. The walls were lime green and yellow—school colors, but who does that?

There were four bunks, but only two of them had mattresses. No sign of Linus.

"Where's Linus?"

"In the shower... Pop a squat, dude."

I pulled an oak chair from the desk, turned it around, and sat in it backwards. "Guess I'm early."

Baldy sat down on the edge of his bed and let out a sigh. "You're not gonna fuck things up for us, are ya?"

"Excuse me?" I looked at him like a crazy math problem.

"Don't get me wrong, dude. I got nothin' against you. My little brother's gay. It's... I don't give a shit."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Seriously, dude! It's cool. I know gay when I see gay. You're a little more obvious than Linus; that's all."

I sat there with a kicked-in-the-balls look on my face, not really knowing what to say or think. Who the fuck was this bald freak to stick his nose into my life?

"Dude, we're basketball players, and Linus is the shit. Girls throw themselves at him, and he doesn't even look. But what you don't know is that I've listened to ten days of 'Austin, Austin, Austin'. You know he even has your fucking snake-song saved as his ring-tone?"

"Really? How?"

"He downloaded it off Youtube or something."

I fished my phone out of my pocket and fumbled my way to my Youtube account. I had a shit-ton of page views since my last visit and a bunch of comments waiting for a response.

"I think he's in love with you, dude."

"With me?"

"Yes, with you! You live with someone you kinda get to know them, see. Hey, I don't even know that Linus realizes all this shit yet, but when he's not really about the scandal. No one gives a shit about gay basketball players anymore. But he doesn't need a fucking identity crisis in the middle of us trying to pull off a winning season."

The bathroom door opened and Linus poked his head out. "You done?"

I didn't know if the walls were sound-proof or how much Linus heard, but the look on his face suggested he heard the last part.

His head was a wet mess of hair, and beads of water dripped across his shoulders and chest. He stepped out with only a towel around his waist. I shuddered and bit my lip. I couldn't help it. Seeing him half-naked and wet sent shivers up my spine.

"I'm sorry, Linus." Baldy stood up and slunk toward the door.

"Aiden, wait up, man."

Aiden, a.k.a. Baldy stopped at the door. His hand on the knob.

"Thanks for looking out for me, man."

"Just be you, Linus. Seriously." He opened the door, stepped out, and let the door fall shut behind him.


He grabbed Mister Zubiri from his bed and pulled a wooden chair from his desk. Still dripping wet and dressed only in a towel, he sat across from me and held his guitar.

"What did ya wanna show me?"

He played a slow, clunky chord and the b-string sounded flat. He adjusted his hand and leaned forward. Played the chord again. He broke the chord up into an arpeggio and started into the lead.

"I was sleeping in your garden," he started singing a fine baritone. "And when your shadow crossed my body, I began to see..." By the time, he got to the chorus, a prominent lump had risen in his towel and pressed against the base of his guitar.

I reached over and patted the lump in his towel. He continued to play, but seemed too breathless to sing.

"You really like my song?" I asked.

He stopped playing and lowered Mister Zubiri to the floor. "I really... really... really like you."

I stood from my chair, and scooted to the side. Shuffled to him and straddle his lap, lowering my butt against the hot hard lump in his towel. I slid my hands across his shoulders until my fingers slid behind his neck. With my thumbs under his jaw, I tilted his chin up. "I really, really, really like you."

He leaned forward, our lips touched, and I opened my mouth to let him inside of me.


There's always been a certain kind of art that you can't teach. Linus knew what to do without needing to be told. Poised and confident, he helped pull my shirt off. He explored his way across my neck and chest with kisses. Kneaded and caressed my nipples with his rough fingers.

I leaned forward and explored his chest with my lips. A deep valley separated two hard and bulging pecs. I explored the little grooves between his abdominal muscles with my tongue. I tasted his navel.

When he scooped his hands under my butt cheeks, his towel  came loose. I glimpsed down at a massive pulsing rod, nearly as thick as my wrist. He stood up, bearing the entire weight of my body in his powerful hands.

He pulled me tightly into his arms and I felt a thud as his engorged penis slapped against
my jean-clad butt.

He lowered me to his bed. Kissed my lips again as he undid the button of jeans. He looked into my eyes and sighed as he wiggled down my zipper. Digging his fingers beneath my waistband, he tore my jeans and my underwear past my knees in one powerful tug.

Partially standing, he pulled them the rest of the way off and then looked down at me.
"Oh my god, Austin." He reached down and grabbed the head of my cock, already dripping with pre-cum. "You're so hot!"

He dropped to his knees and slid the head of my cock between his lips. I felt the caress of his hot tongue as he worked his way down my shaft. I felt his tonsils against my glans as his lips closed. He turned his head, twisting his mouth against my cock, as he sucked with his powerful lungs.

He worked his way up and down my cock with his mouth, while he slid his right hand under my balls, and toward the crack of my ass. As he increased the suction on my cock,
I felt his thick thumb slip inside of me.

"Linus... I'm getting...close."

He sucked in again and started twisting his thumb in my rectum.


He did not relent as my whole body shook. My loaded erupted into Linus's mouth.

He continued to suck until the last drop of my cum was in his throat.

Then, he slid my dick out of his mouth and looked me in the eye.

"Your turn," I said, grabbing the head of his massive cock.

"Just let me inside of you," he whispered.

"Go slow," I said.

Pushing me back and sliding my feet over his shoulders, Linus slid his thumb out of my ass. He coated his fingers with spit and pre-cum. He gently massaged my hole with two fingers at first. Then he added a third, and worked his way inside of me, making sure that I was moist.

"You ready?"

I nodded.

I felt the head of his cock separate my cheeks. Prodding gently, he coaxed my hole to open, until he slipped inside of me. He moved with smooth rhythmic motions until his head had passed my prostate.

A moan escaped my chest as he plunged forward until his cock was all the way inside of me.

He leaned forward, kissed my lips, and wrapped his arms around me.

He thrusted his hips and my whole body shook. He pounced, pulled back a little. Pounced again.
"Austin... Austin... Aus..."

He closed his eyes.

The End


I may write a follow-up to this story. I was initially interested in exploring how the relationship between Linus and Austin would play out over a basketball season.