Date: Wed, 4 May 2022 11:45:07 -0400
From: Jayce Marvel <jaycemarvel501@gmail.com>
Subject: Story: Imago / Chapter Title: Lust 4

"I know you just went through something that you're struggling with, but
for my plan to work, we need to get moving.  I personally know that our
plane tickets were for a pre-dawn flight, but other people don't," Mason
said, snapping me back to attention.


"Huh?  I don't follow," I admitted.


"Oh yeah, sorry.  I went over most of this in my head.  It means that the
two of us could go out, and if we run into anyone we know, we can tell them
we're getting stuff for me before I leave.  Plus, we won't run into me."


"I don't have any money to shop," I said.


He grabbed my camera and held it in front of my face.  "This kind of
shopping," he said.


I looked at him sideways.  "If we take pictures of store merchandise to
make copies of it, isn't that stealing?  I thought you were Mr. Morality."


"First, they're not losing product, and they can still sell it all.
Second, we're going through the food aisles, and eating is a basic human
necessity.  The fact that these companies treat it like a luxury people can
just go without if they jack up the prices, means they can fuck right off.
The profit margins on basic necessities are designed to make sure the poor
stay that way."


I chuckled. "You've been listening to your sister."


"The little Communist has a point sometimes.  Still, I'm not trying to
topple the economy or anything.  I'm just saying that these big chains sure
as shit can handle two people not buying their overpriced goods, and I'm
not going to feel bad about screwing them back a tiny bit."


It amazed me how he was at one end of the moral scale when it came to body
autonomy, and the opposite when it came to property ownership.  His
complexity only made him sexier to me.


"Where first?"


"Wal-mart, I'd say.  We can get a huge sampling, and maybe take some shots
of more clothes for me.  Take a pad of paper and something to write with as
well.  Trust me."


What sort of deviousness was he planning?  He'd already proven to be better
at lying than me, which blew my mind, since I never knew he had it in him.


Luckily for us, our destination was only a couple miles away, and we didn't
need bus fare.  What we did need was to take the long way out of the
complex so we wouldn't pass Mason's building and possibly be seen by his
mom.  That would be game over.  We were going like gangbusters when we got
there, taking pictures of as many different products as we could find.
Every time, he'd have me write down the item name and the price.  I
couldn't figure out his plan until a manager finally approached us.


"What are you two doing?" she asked.


"School project on budgeting," Mason told her.  "We have to figure out how
much things really cost and figure out what sort of jobs we'd need to have
all the things we want.  Show her the notes, Zac."


I showed her the list and she actually looked it over.  It seemed to put
her at ease that we weren't stealing or causing mischief.  "That's not a
bad way to teach kids about life.  Wish I had something like that when I
was your age."  She pressed a button on her belt and spoke into her
headpiece.  "I've got a pair of teens in aisle four taking pictures.  It's
for a school project, and I'm giving them permission.  They'll probably be
hitting a bunch of departments."


"Thank you so much," Mason told her.  How he managed to give the puppy dog
look with his blue eyes, I couldn't figure out, but he did it.  Damn his
lashes were long.


After she left, I elbowed him.  "When did you turn into a genius?"


"Always was, always will be," he said with a smug look.


After a couple hours, we moved on to clothing.  My heart sank with all the
sweats and athletic wear he was taking pictures of.  Nothing for me to
slowly open.  I tried not to sigh audibly.


"Don't like my choices?"


"Never been a fan of athletic wear when sports aren't being played.  It's
just not hot to me."


"Good thing I don't have to be hot.  Not for you or anyone else.  If I'm
going to be cooped up inside all the time, I want to be comfortable."  He
had a point, so I shrugged.


"True.  Your call."


"Besides, you're the last person I need to have attracted to me."


"Hey!  Rude.  Of all the people in the world who could be attracted to you,
I would be the worst?"


He turned to me, wide eyed.  "I didn't mean it like that.  It's the worst
because I like you too much as a friend and I'm fully straight.  I'm also
living with you, in a sense, so that would make things awkward.  But the
worst part would be knowing you were hurting because I didn't feel the same
for you as you did for me.  I've seen what this other guy is doing to you,
just by living rent free in your crush headspace.  I don't think I'd want
to keep coming back if I hurt you like that."


"And now you're crying," he said.  "What did I mess up?"


I shook my head and wiped my eyes.  "Nothing.  You got me in the feels.
Seriously though, if you don't want me to catch feelings, don't say stuff
like that to me.  It tickles the romance centers of my brain."


He laughed softly.  "Got it.  Compliments turn you on."


I punched him in the arm.  "What department is next?"


"Computers.  While I'd love a great desktop setup, I'm going to have to
settle for a laptop we can hide from your mom.  I want to experiment with
some stuff."


"I thought you were straight," I jabbed.


He returned my earlier arm punch.  "Perv," he told me and turned me toward
the electronics section shoving me on my way.  He seemed to have an idea as
we were looking at the computers.  He took a single picture of a laptop and
then moved on to wires and accessories.  We were out of that section in
under five minutes.


"That was it?  You spent more time on clothes."


"I don't need a supercomputer, just the internet and a USB port."


"Oh!" I said, catching on.  "Do we even need to take any more pictures
here?"


He shook his head and we started out.  He stopped us when we were passing
the checkouts from the register side.  "Camera, now."  I quickly handed it
to him.


He rushed over to one of the checkouts.  "Hey, mister.  Before you pay, can
I get a shot of that wad of money?"


The man and the cashier looked at him like he'd just asked to take pictures
of their money.


"Seriously.  I'm doing a picture scavenger hunt and I need a picture of,
and I quote, `phat stax of cash.'  I promise, I'll stay back far enough
that I can't reach it.  Please?"


"Eh, whatever," the man said and set a very substantial stack of bills onto
the stand between him and the cashier.  "Just be quick about it."


Mason zoomed in on just the money and snapped the picture.  "Thank you so
much," he said, and he continued to glance around as we finally left the
building, like he was hunting for more things.


Once we were safely down the sidewalk heading back home, I turned to him.
"You absolute liar," I said, laughing.


"It's a talent," he told me.  "Seriously, though, did you see that wad?
How much do you think that was?"


"Like a hundred, maybe," I speculated.


"Doubt it, it looked like way more to me.  Let's get back.  I can't wait to
see this."


We cut across the city park to reach a gap in the wooden rail fence
separating it from the small woodland behind it.  Those were the same woods
that backed up to my apartment, and we both knew the way through by heart.
They weren't some huge, deep, dark woods from the storybooks.  These were
part of the park, and had trails through them, and on one of the loops was
the short overgrown path to the back entrance of my complex.


The forest path avoided going past Mason's building, but had a different
snag.  As we emerged from the treeline, I quickly looked up to the third
floor to see vertical blinds slapping against each other, like someone had
been looking through them.


"Isaac just saw us," I said.  "He thinks he's so slick."


"What's his deal with you?  He watches you like a hawk."


I didn't say anything as I unlocked the door and held it open for him.  We
headed up, and I braced myself for our floor.


"What are you two up to?" Isaac asked, looking once again like he was
taking out some trash -- like I just hadn't seen him at his back window.
"Making trouble for the neighborhood?"  He shoved his trash into the chute.


I could see Mason gearing up to reply, but Isaac's stern face broke into a
laugh.  "I'm just playing with you guys.  He put an arm around my shoulders
and made a move toward Mason to include him in the bro hug.  Mason ducked
and stepped back to avoid touching him.


"We were taking care of some last minute things for Mason before he
leaves," I told him, removing his arm from me.  He smelled like he needed a
shower.  "We don't have much time, so if you'll excuse us."  I unlocked my
apartment so we could get in and managed to get it closed before he could
find something else to tie us up.  I held up a finger and put my ear to the
door, listening for Isaac's apartment door to close.  When it did, I peeked
into the hallway to make sure it was empty, which it was.


We went back to my room.  "That guy gives me the absolute creeps," Mason
said.  "What's wrong with him?"


"You really don't want to know.  What should we work on first?"


"You're dodging."


"Sure am.  Computer first?"


He sat on my bed.  "Put the current picture of me in the box and set it to
delete, take a picture of me now, and then tell me.  Let me decide if it's
something I want to know."


I couldn't fault his logic.  I did as he asked and sat with him.  "He blows
me," I said.  "Like three times a week.  He wants more but I just don't
like him like that."


"Nasty.  How can you even get it up for him?  I'd never be able to get hard
for someone I didn't want to have sex with."  He wasn't wrong about that
part, but I wasn't about to bring up what happened earlier with his
duplicate.


"Hormones," I replied.  "I get horny a lot.  He's available, and he knows
tricks to get me going."


"How long have you two been doing this?" he asked, his tone flat with what
I thought was anger.


I knew what was coming and took a deep breath.  "A few years, now."


"But he's...."


"I know," I interrupted.  "But you don't know what it's like for me.  I
don't have anyone else.  I can't just ask a guy out.  Even if I liked
girls, I can't just crook my finger and give them the eye and make them
drop their panties like you can.  I'm gross, and gross is all I can get."


"You think girls want me?" he scoffed.


"Have you looked in a mirror?  You're stupid amounts of cute.  The only
reason you have so many girls in the friendzone is because you put them
there."


"This isn't about me, this is about you and Isaac," he said.


"You know the deal with him now.  He thinks we can be a couple.  We can't.
I've been leading him on to get my dick wet.  That's it.  That's the story.
Do you want me to hit the button to delete this version of you now?"


He shook his head.  "No, but you're going to have to address the real
problem some time.  He's not a good person, and if you weren't here...."


"Yeah, I know.  Maybe we can turn my life around and I can find someone
good for me."  I shoulder bumped him.  "You sure you don't want to forget
this part?"


"No, I absolutely need to remember this.  I need to keep him away from
you."


"My hero.  Ow!"


"New topic.  You think I'm cute?  Girls think I'm cute?"


"Yeah, don't let it get to your head, either of them."


"But I'm so lanky."


"Lanky is a derogatory word used to shame cute guys into thinking they're
inferior.  You're tall and slim and pretty.  Like K-pop pretty.  Have you
ever had a zit?"


"Once," he said shyly.  I laughed in the language of acne.


"Like I said before: you, my friend, actively push girls away.  At least,
the you out there does.  I'd even guess that, subconsciously, the only
reason you went after Lyssa so hard was because you knew she'd shoot you
down."


Mason was quiet for a while.  I removed the picture of his current form
from the box and set it in the picture frame on my desk, then printed off
pictures of the computer, wires, and money.  I projected the computer and
wires first.


"Hey man, are you good?" I asked.


"Yeah, I think."  His voice was quiet, like it was still very much on his
mind.  "If what you said were true, why am I like this?"


"Why would you be subconsciously pushing girls away?  Why would you be
making sure to only show an outward interest in girls you can't have?  I'd
bet real money that your sexuality isn't the traditional straight the world
has convinced you you're supposed to be."


His gaze met mine, but his expression was blank.  "Are you saying you think
I'm gay?"


I wished!  But no, even though he wasn't aware of it, he'd already
convinced me he wasn't gay either.  "There are more options than straight
and gay, Mason.  I'm getting a sneaking suspicion you're not actually into
anyone.  How familiar are you with asexuality?"


"I know it's a thing," he admitted, "but past that, nothing."


I pointed to the computer on my desk.  "Set up the computer so you can look
it up.  There's a bunch of different kinds of asexuality and aromanticism,
so find a site that lists the different ones and their aspects."


He moved from my bed to my desk and got to work while I projected the money
to the spot he'd just left.  "You said it would be more than a hundred," I
noted.  "Let's see if you're right.  Then I can print off more."


"Don't make more," he said.  He flipped the top bill over and pointed at
the number.  "Serial numbers.  A copy or two floating around and no one
will notice.  A bunch of identical bills and someone's going to realize
that counterfeiting is going on.  It may take a while for the feds to track
us down, but I'm sure they will.  Still, finding two of the same serial
number floating through town would be like finding a needle in a haystack.
Three would make it slightly easier to find a pair, and so on."


"There goes that means of getting rich," I muttered, then started counting
the stack on my bed.  "Four hundred eighty seven," I reported.  "Why would
he be carrying so much?"


"He had a bank envelope.  I'd say he just took out $500, or cashed a check
for that much.  Some people still don't use cards.  They don't trust the
companies.  Sometimes, when things are tight, my mom will get her grocery
money out in cash so she can't overspend."  The entire time he was talking,
his gaze was fixed on the screen, going through menu after menu to get the
laptop up and running.  The complex had wifi, even though it was slow, so
he didn't have that to contend with.


After hours of downloads and configuring, Mason had the computer set up.
I'd projected some Mt. Dews for us, and found a boxed meal we both agreed
on and whipped that up in the kitchen, doing the dishes to cover it up.  He
was in the middle of researching a site on sexuality when I heard the key
in the lock of the apartment door.


"Shit, I have to pee," he hissed.


"Too late for that now."  I snapped a picture of him and put the old one
into the box to delete it.  "I'll make sure not to bring you out until the
coast is clear to use the bathroom."  He nodded and I deleted the copy of
him I'd spent the day with.  Then I closed the laptop and covered it with
my backpack, stashing the money into one of its pockets, just in time for a
knock on my bedroom door.


"What?" I asked in a monotone.  She opened the door and walked in.  "Could
you not do that, please?"


"Do what?" she asked.


"I didn't say to come in, I just asked what you wanted.  You can't just
barge into my room like that."  I needed to make sure I could keep her out.


"I'm the one that pays rent, and I'm your mother," she said, redness coming
to her cheeks.  "I have every right to make sure you're okay.  Why
shouldn't I walk in?"


I needed to break out the big guns and gross her out.  I so didn't want to
talk about sex with her, but it was that or risk her barging in whenever
she wanted.  "The same reason you don't want me walking into your room
unannounced.  I'm a sixteen year old boy."


I waited for her to register what I was saying, and then her face changed
to one of embarrassment.  "I don't want to know about you doing that," she
said.


"Well, it happens.  I jack off.  I was doing it when you knocked and I just
barely put my dick away before you opened the door."  I had to make sure
she understood, and my modesty seemed like a tiny thing compared to what
she'd really uncover if she came in at the wrong time.  "So, can you please
just not open my door when I'm in here?"


She gave a single nod and backed out, starting to close the door.  "Wait,"
I said.  "You're already in here.  What did you need?"


She held up another styrofoam container.  "I was going to ask if a burger
was okay for dinner."


"I'm good.  It's Saturday, so I went to Sam's Club and free-sampled it up.
You eat it.  You have one more day to get through before your weekend, and
you could use the energy."


"Where'd you get the pop?" she asked, looking past me at the two cans on my
desk.  Shit.


I had to think fast.  Who did she know and approve of coming over, but
wouldn't double check?  "Chris came over to work on something with me.  He
stopped at the store on the way over and asked if I wanted a snack.  I
wasn't going to say no."  Chris had been friends with Mason and I since
middle school, and he was the only other one of our pack that came with us
to Butler high school, instead of Yates, as we were near the dividing line
between the two high schools.  Chris was cool and fun, but we'd drifted
apart in high school.  New friends and all.  To Mom, though, he was a known
entity.


"Nice.  I'm glad you have other people to hang out with while Mason's away.
Did you two have fun?"  I'd forgotten that the real Mason was probably in
Seattle by that point.


"As much fun as school stuff can be."


"You want to watch tv with me?"


"Nah, I think I'm going to study some more. I have a bio quiz Wednesday."
That wasn't a lie.  The bio quiz was real, but I was vastly over prepared
for it.  I wanted to dive back into the manual, which was exactly what I
did once she closed the door.


Within an hour, I knew what my next experiment would be.


**********************************


Author Notes:


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~Jayce
( jaycemarvel501@gmail.com )