A Knight to Remember
by ChessDude
Chapter 8
"Ian… It's time to get up." I heard in my ear.
"Just… five more minutes." I said, still in a blur.
"You said that five minutes ago! Now get up!" I heard Ollie say, in a loud whisper.
I opened my eyes, adjusting to the morning sun, which was piercing through the closed blinds.
"I made you this." Ollie said, as he pushed a steaming mug towards me.
Coffee? My man made me coffee!
"Dude… I love you." I said, and then my brain activated, "I mean, thanks."
After a few huge gulps of the piping hot liquid, I finally felt like a human being.
Ollie was already dressed and sitting on the bed. Fiddling with his phone as he waited for me to get ready.
I threw on my clothes and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
We grabbed a couple of pop-tarts and said a few goodbyes to Ollie's fam, then headed out to the car.
Let the games begin!
"Ok, Ian. Remember to use all your time. You have 120 minutes for the first 40 moves and another hour after that. So don't rush, ok?"
I nodded, and then asked "Wait, how will the clock keep track of that?"
"I've already programmed the Chronos with the game parameters. It will track the move count and adjust the time when you reach that point."
Chronos was the fancy digital game clock we were using. I knew that much, at least.
Let me explain to you how chess game clocks work. This is important, so pay attention.
They have a variety of standard game times already configured, say 30 minutes for each player or 15 minutes for each player as 'default times' you can choose. But a Chronos clock can be programmed for any time period. You could give each player 113.5 minutes each if you wanted.
The clock is placed on the side of the board facing the players. It has two screens, one for the person playing white and one for the person playing black. So both players can see how much time they have left to use. ALSO, both players can see how much time the OTHER player has left.
Now, after either player makes a move, they reach over and push a button located on their side of the rectangular shaped clock. Pushing that button stops their own timer, and starts their opponents timer. Each player does this after each move.
So each player's clock is either ticking or paused, depending on whether it's their move or not.
Capisce?
Excellent!
Google a picture of 'Chronos Chess Clock' if you still don't get it.
Onward!
We were sitting in Dallas traffic, a few miles away from the venue.
"And don't touch a piece unless you're sure you're going to move it! Touch-move rules apply here. If you touch the piece, then you HAVE to move it… If you're adjusting a piece that's crooked, you can do so as long as you say 'Adjust' while you're doing it."
I nodded again.
This was too much information. I reached into the spare chess bag that Ollie had brought me and pulled out the notebook that came with it, and started taking notes.
"Only offer a draw if it's your turn. Do NOT offer it on their time. Also, don't offer a draw if you're losing. That's super rude, and is insulting to the other player. Don't offer a draw after every move. That's also considered rude and could get you in trouble. Oh and…" Ollie briefly glanced over at me.
"What are you doing?" He asked, sternly.
"Uh… I mean, this is a lot to remember… I was taking notes."
Oh boy…
Did he look mad.
"Rip those pages out of the book. Now." Ollie commanded.
"What? Why?" I asked.
"Because if an arbiter saw your notes during the tournament you'd be ejected from the entire event for cheating. You can't have any notes or guides, Ian! That could've been really bad…"
Jesus… I felt like a child being scolded in the Wal-Mart checkout line.
"Geez, Sorry." I said, dejected.
"Put your phone on silent and don't take it out during the game for any reason. If you need to use the restroom or take a walk during the game then wait till you've made your move and then go. Don't leave the board while it's your move. It could raise suspicion."
"Suspicion of what?" I asked.
"That you're going to get help from someone or checking your next move with a chess engine. Arbiters are constantly watching everyone. Their job is to make sure no one is up to any funny business."
"Ok, got it."
"Also, be sure and remember to notate every move of the game in that notebook. Ok?"
"Uh, yeah.. Sure."
"Do you remember the notation or do we need to go over it again?"
"I think I remember it." I said.
"Ok, well… just know that if you stop notating the opponent can pause the game and call the arbiter over and have 10 minutes deducted from your time. So don't forget to do it."
FOR GOD 'S SAKE!!! HOW MANY RULES ARE THERE?
My anxiety was at a 10 when I woke up this morning. At this point it was over 9000!!!
Ollie let out a breath and nudged me.
"Don't worry, ok? I know I'm hitting you with a ton of info, but I just want everything to go smoothly… I'll be looking out for you during the tournament, ok?"
"Well, you've scared the shit out of me… So there's that." I said.
"I just want you to do well, Ian. I… If… You matter to me, ok? I just don't want anything to go wrong. I woke up this morning and like… I just… I care about you. I want you to succeed."
My smile could've connected the seven seas.
"I care about you too." I said, looking forward, smiling like a hyena.
Shit. No wonder he's so good at this game. He takes this shit seriously. I felt like a kid being lectured on the way to his first day at kindergarten.
This was going to be a loooooooooooooooong day.
We arrived at the Kay Bailey Hutchinson Convention Center in Downtown Dallas. It was fucking gorgeous. A study in glass walls and marble floors. It oozed class and sophistication. High ceilings. Natural light shining through the lobby. I was stunned that they could afford this venue.
It was bustling. People of all ages and ethnicities were moving from one direction to another. Kids were holding their chess gear in special elongated carrying bags followed by their parents. Several groups had set up boards in the lobby area and were going over games, some playing blitz. The energy was intoxicating. I was in love and terrified all at the same time.
I followed Ollie through the maze of people up to the registration desk.
"Well, I'll be damned! If it isn't Oliver West!" Said a grey-haired, bearded man sitting behind the desk. He was one of those guys you knew instantly was a real character. He had a beige skimmer hat on, with a tie-dye shirt.
"Hey Johny! Good to see you." Ollie said, smiling.
"Gregson!!! Get over here! West is in the house!" Johny shouted into a room located behind the desk.
A red-haired man in his forties poked his head through the doorway.
"I'll be damned." He said, looking back at Johny.
"That's what I said!" Johny shouted.
"I know it's been a while guys… You know, life and all." Ollie said, with a smile.
"Well, we're just glad to have you back. We need all the heavyweights we can get."
The red-haired man spoke up, "So let me get this straight… You Austin boys come to Dallas to take all our hard-earned money, is that how this works?"
"A man's gotta put food on the table." Ollie said, with a sarcastic grin.
They all laughed.
Ollie reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but Johny motioned it away.
"Titled players play for free. You know that, boy."
Titled players? Ollie is titled? What does that mean? That sounds … important.
"I'm paying for my friend… Ian Ferri. He'll be playing in the under-1000 section." Ollie said.
My mouth dropped open. Since when was he paying for me?
I leaned into his ear, "Dude, I can pay."
He shook his head and gave me a look that said 'absolutely not'. So, I relented.
Have I mentioned how sexy he is when he takes charge? It makes me fucking nuts. I want him to fucking ravage me when he's like this. Nothing. Sexier.
I saw the prize fund chart taped to the wall… $3600 for first place! And that's for each section! Anyone finishing in the top three gets $1,000+ payout. I was starting to get excited. I could get a new graphics card! Maybe even two!
After a few minutes we were both registered. I was playing in the under-1000 section. All players rated below 1000 played in that section. Ollie was playing in the 'championship' or 'open' section. That's where the best of the best played. I felt so much pride being with him. He was like a celebrity at this place.
Everyone was waiting for their board assignments. Some computer program was going to build the matchups after all the competitors had registered. So we had 30 minutes to get familiar with the building.
Ollie walked us into the playing hall. It was HUGE. With tables in long lines from one end to the other. There was room for approximately 300-400 players.
While we waited for the matchups Ollie continued giving me tips… Like black gets to choose whose board is used to play that round… And not to say the words 'check' or 'checkmate' during the game, that the other player will know when they are being 'checked', that if I fail to notice that I'm 'in check' and try to move another piece that 10 minutes will be deducted from my time.
This is next-level shit… I had no idea there would be this many things to keep track of.
Finally, the board matchups were posted. I was playing white against some dude named Jack Benson, rated 997. Fuck, he had to be the highest rated player in the under-1000 section! Some luck I've got. Our game was located at board 227. Ollie was playing on board 2 against Vladim Mizinscy, rated 2397.
It became clear that your rank in the tournament could easily be determined based on the board number your game was on. So, for instance, the last board was number 279, at the very back of the room. The lowest rated players (or players with the worst results in the tournament) would play there. In contrast, the highest rated and most esteemed players were playing boards 1-30, at the very front of the room. The fact that Ollie was playing his first round game on board 2 gave me quite a bit of pause. He's the real fucking deal! I just hoped that I wasn't hurting his reputation by associating with him. But like, he didn't even seem to care about any of that. He wasn't trying to be cool or hob-nob with only the best players (all of which he knew), he was focused on me. Making sure that I was prepared and wouldn't be confused or embarrass myself. How can someone so smart be so humble and kind?
After checking the matchups, Ollie and I parted ways and went to our boards. When I reached board 227 I saw a 14ish year old boy calmly seated opposite me. He was thin, but didn't look overly nerdy. He had short brown hair and freckles across his nose. He was cute, in a boyish kind of way.
"Are you Jack?" I asked.
"Yep. Ian?"
"Uh, yeah… I guess we're playing first round. Sorry, this is my first tournament, so I'm not used to the protocols and everything. I'll try not to do anything too stupid." I said, as I sat down.
He chuckled and gave me a sort of pitying look, "You chose the Dallas Open to be your first tournament? This is the most competitive tournament of the year other than the state championship!"
I didn't like that look. Not one bit.
"Well my friend has played here before and thought it would be fine. I'm not expecting much. Just want to get some experience." I said.
"Huh… Well I'm here to win." He said, as he looked around.
I wasn't feeling his 'aura'. He seemed a little haughty to me.
It wasn't like I was here to lose! What the fuck does he think I'm planning on doing? Scratching my ass the whole time?
I got my notebook out and put down our names. And used the few minutes that remained to prepare my notation booklet.
My palms were sweating.
I would NEVER have had the courage to do this if Ollie wasn't in the picture. I couldn't imagine walking into this environment all alone, with no one there to guide me through it. And that thought bothered me. I needed to start being more proactive. More confident. All these people were here and it didn't take falling in love with someone to get them to show up. But still, I was here. That had to count for something, right? I had taken SOME initiative.
"You see him?" Jack said, pointing to a boy my age standing many boards towards the front.
"Uh, yeah. I do."
"He's my brother, Joel. He's rated 1854… He's basically my coach, just so you know."
"Ok." I said, in a flat tone.
He 's ALREADY bragging. Christ sake. No telling what he's going to be like after he inevitably destroys me.
A few minutes later I heard some increased rumbling among the players and looked to see Johny walking towards the center of the room.
"Well, ladies… Welcome… to the 26th Annual Dallas Open!!"
Cheers and hooting followed.
"As y'all can see I'm pretty as ever." Johny said, followed by a sea of chuckles.
"Pretty as a pig's ass!" One of the players yelled, followed by even more laughter.
"Stop insulting my wife!" Johny yelled back.
The room roared.
Even I was laughing at this point. I loved how tight-knit the group was, especially considering how many people were there.
"Anyways, Ladies and Gents… We're already 13 minutes behind schedule, and Gregson's about to have a hernia. So let's get this show started… Players, start your clocks! And best of luck… You ugly birds are gonna need it." Johny said, followed by clapping.
I felt a stab in my chest as Jack reached over and started the clock… When I returned to consciousness I noticed his hand was stretched out above the board. I had no idea what he was doing.
"You're supposed to shake hands before the game." He said, in a commanding whisper.
"Oh."
I quickly reached across the table, shook his hand, and moved the king's pawn two spaces, waiting for his response…
He just sat there.
I had played my move, but he wasn't doing anything!
5 minutes passed.
Nothing.
10 minutes passed.
He still hadn't made his first move yet!
He was just looking intently at the board.
The fuck is going on? I thought he was 'here to win'!?
After about 25 minutes of watching him do nothing I casually glanced at the clock…
My heart stopped.
I HADN'T PUSHED THE BUTTON!
We were still using my time!
I quickly reached over and pushed the button on the clock, which started his timer. And as soon as I pushed the clock he IMMEDIATELY made his move, and pushed his button.
What a cheeky little bastard!
He would 've sat there the whole two hours pretending to think until my time ran out!
Losing on time means losing the game. End of discussion. Now I had used up 25 minutes on the clock… for NOTHING!
GODDAMNIT!
He'd really pissed me off. He knew good and goddamn well I was new to the game. He could have at least been a good sport and let me know that my time was dwindling down to nothing. What did he do instead? Jack shit is what he did!
IT 'S WAR, BITCH.
The next ten moves happened quickly. I had seen positions similar to this before, but wasn't sure what it was technically called. I felt like the game was somewhat even… That is, until I made a hasty move and lost one of my pawns.
As soon as Jack Shit captured the pawn he let out a breath of what sounded like relief. His whole body posture relaxed, and he slumped down in the chair with a kind of satisfied look on his face. Basically telling me that the game was over.
I didn't want to lose to him!
I sat there for 20 minutes trying to decide what to do next.
I was weighing the pro's and con's of my position. There were some options for me to attack, but I was down a pawn! And to top it off Jack Shit was a stronger player than me… Playing aggressively would only make things worse.
I just kept thinking. At this point he was doing those annoying fake yawns people do, giving the impression that he was totally relaxed. I went back to the drawing board. Thinking and thinking.
A minute or two later I glanced at him, and I almost didn't recognize what I saw.
The color from his face had drained. His eyes were wide. He was looking at something behind me. His jaw hanging open.
Before I could turn around to see what was happening, I felt two hands come to rest on my shoulders.
Ollie!
He had come to check on me!
When I looked up at him he was staring straight at Jack Shit, giving him an intimidating glare. Jack Shit was biting his nails and staring at the board.
His confidence was gone! He was searching the board again, like he wasn't sure if things were going as well as he'd thought.
I couldn't understand it. What had changed? I hadn't made a move! Just a minute earlier he looked like he'd already won the game!
Was he scared of Ollie for some reason? What the hell was that about?
I felt Ollie squeeze my shoulders, causing me to look up at him. He gave me the warmest, most beautiful smile I'd ever seen.
All my nervousness disappeared. Anxiety: gone… He was calming me. Reassuring me. And I loved him all the more for it.
I smiled back as he gave me one last squeeze and headed off to his board.
Everything would be alright. Ollie was on my side. He would be there for me after all this was over. That's what mattered most. Not my pride. Not this pesky teenager.
I settled in and focused back on the board. Jack Shit was sitting up straight. Eyes on the board. His eyes were darting from one end of the board to the other.
After another minute or so I decided to develop my bishop, since the one benefit of losing a pawn was that my bishop now had space to move around.
As soon as I made my move, he said, "I offer a draw."
The fuck?
I 'm down a pawn, dumbass!
Without much thought I nodded, not sure what I was supposed to do to accept. He reached his hand out and we shook.
I was in shock. Why did he offer a draw?
I drew my first game against the highest rated player in my section!
And I have no idea how I did it!
"Why didn't you tell me you had a National Master as your coach?" Jack asked, eyes accusing.
National Master? Is that what Ollie is? That sounds … serious.
"Oh… I didn't think it mattered." I responded, nonchalantly. I was enjoying this way too much already.
"You prepared that pawn sacrifice didn't you! It was a trap. I knew it when Master West came over here."
Uh … No, that 'sacrifice' was my own incompetence.
"A magician never tells his tricks." I said.
"Is Master West still taking students?" Jack asked, his tone was so eager it startled me.
Master West? What is this? Star Wars Return of the Pawns?
"Um… I don't think so. He's actually one of my good friends, so… That's why he coaches me. For free of course."
The look on this kids face. God I was loving this.
"He coaches you f-f-for free?" He asked, eyes wider than ever.
"Yep. I guess I'm just special." I said.
We packed up our things and I followed him to the results table, we had to declare a draw on our notation cards and then each of us signed the other's booklet, and then recorded the result in the round 1 standings chart.
It was one and a half hours into the first round, and most players were still playing their games. I needed to see how Ollie was doing. He was playing a guy rated 2397! That's like… Grandmaster level!
I walked to the front of the room, and saw him seated opposite a man in his early thirties.
They had special white cards beside their board detailing their name and rating. Apparently only the best players got that perk.
The card read: NM Oliver West 2265 Vs. IM Vladim Mizinscy 2397
' NM'… That must be the 'National Master' thing Jack was talking about… But what is the 'IM'? International Master?
Both of them had their hands extended over their foreheads, creating a visor over their eyes. I assumed to prevent the other from seeing what they were looking at.
The energy was crazy intense.
I kept my distance and tried to gauge what was happening on the board, but the position was way too complicated. I resorted to counting the pieces in order to get an idea of what was going on. But it was uneven. Vladim was up a Knight but Ollie had captured 3 of Vladim's pawns. I had no idea what the balance was in that situation.
It looked like Ollie was using his three extra pawns as a battering ram, charging them down the center of the board, cramping the other guys space.
Another hour and fifty minutes had passed. I'd been to the bathroom multiple times and eaten two bags of chips. They were still locked in. Ollie had 4 minutes and 13 seconds on the clock, while Vladim had 3 minutes and 20 seconds left.
A crowd had started to form around their game. Time was running out. I watched as Ollie and Vladim made eye-contact for what felt like the first time. It seemed like it was an acknowledgement that some serious shit was about to go down.
Then, like a choreographed fight scene, they started moving faster and faster. Ollie was still up a couple pawns, and they were dangerously close to Vladim's side of the board.
Both of them were now standing up, hunched over the board.
Their hands were moving at a dizzying speed. I could barely make out whose hand was whose! It was incredible! At a certain point there was less than a second between each of their moves. My heart was pounding. They were slapping the clock so loud I thought it might break!
And then, after a blizzard of hands moving from the board to the clock and back again, Vladim calmly extended his hand, holding it above the board.
Nothing was said.
Ollie reached over and shook it.
I had no idea what had happened! It was like they'd just communicated with their minds! Who won? Did they draw?! What the fuck! Nobody had said anything!
I watched Ollie glance around the room. And as soon as he locked eyes with me… As soon as I saw that smile spread across his face, I knew… He'd won.
HE'D WON!!!
I darted to the table and pulled him into the tightest hug I could give. I was so fucking proud. He'd beaten one of the best players in the country! He's a genius!
I can't describe how much respect I had for him. How much I not only adored him, but also admired him. Idolized him.
"Ian, I can't breathe!"
I slowly released him from the hug, but refused to fully let go of him… I noticed a little water in his eyes. I could see how much that win meant to him, and I was there to share it. I could die happy!
"I'm so proud of you! I've never been more proud of anyone or anything! Do you understand me!?" I said, shaking him with each syllable.
He chuckled, while gazing into my eyes. I felt that spark ignite. That fire that was kindling in my belly was starting to blaze. All it took was that look to ignite the inferno inside me. It didn't matter where we were. He was gasoline to my flame.
God … When I get you home… Oh boy… When I get you in that damn bed…
I swear … to… GOD…
"How was your game?" Ollie asked.
"It was a draw! And I have no idea how!" I said.
Ollie burst out laughing… Like, uncontrollable laughter. It was fucking contagious, causing me to start laughing my ass off too.
"You were totally losing!" Ollie said, between chuckles.
"I know! I think you scared the shit out of the poor kid. He thought we'd planted a trap!"
Ollie buried his face in my shoulder and cackled. It was just us in that room. No one else existed.
After our fit of giggles subsided, reality struck. I think we realized simultaneously that we were still locked in an embrace. We quickly parted, and as I looked to the right I saw Johny seated at a table facing us. He had the faintest smile on his face. I knew enough to know that he was in 'analysis mode'. He didn't seem disgusted, more amused.
Ollie cleared his throat, "Let's get some food."
The next two rounds went pretty well for both of us. I lost my second game, but won the third! So I was feeling really good. I had won a game! It was against a guy rated 740, but still!
Ollie had won his second round game and drew the third. He was tied for first place with GM Igor Morozevich! Tied with a Grandmaster! I couldn't believe it.
We arrived home at 12:35 am.
His uncle Craig was seated in the living room, which was located at the entrance of the house. He had some dark liquor in a fancy cup beside him.
"Well boys, how did you do?"
"Ian did great! He finished 1.5 out of 3. That's awesome for a first tournament." Ollie said.
"Well Oliver here is sitting at 2.5 out of 3! He beat an International Master today! It was nuts!"
"Too smart for his own good that one." Craig said, motioning to Oliver.
"Well, I know you boys are tired. Go on now and get some rest. Long day tomorrow." He said, as he took a swig of his drink.
I went to Avery's room and gathered some shower stuff, and walked over to the bathroom. The light was on but the door was cracked, so I walked in.
As my eyes adjusted to the brightness I saw Ollie standing there in his ruby-red boxer-briefs, looking at me like I was holding him at gunpoint.
"Oh! My bad… I didn't know you were in here." I said, flustered.
I was staring straight at the bulge in his shorts. My eyes locked onto that beauty within the first 0.000000000000000000000000000978 seconds of entering the room. I knew (roughly) how big he was hard, but his bulge was surprisingly impressive soft.
"Uh… You can go first if you want." He said, covering his groin with his hands.
I was feeling mischievous. And more than that, I was getting sick of the pretend formality between us. So, I walked right up to him while maintaining eye contact, and sat on the toilet seat.
"I'll just wait." I said, unable to hide my smile.
Ollie had a totally serious look on his face. He glanced at the door and then back at me, "What if someone notices?"
Wait… Was he being serious? He thought I was being SERIOUS? Is he thinking about doing it!?
You could see my heartbeat through my shirt.
HE WAS CONSIDERING IT!
"Who's gonna notice? Everyone's asleep… And your uncle is plastered in the living room watching Home Improvement reruns…"
He was so clearly uncomfortable that I almost aborted the entire mission. But he hadn't said no yet! How risky could this be? If someone asked we'd just say I was taking a shit while he showered. That's KIND of believable… Like, maybe I'd held my poop all day and had to let it out right then… God, I just wanted to see him naked, ok? Consequences be damned…
I thought about suggesting that we take a shower together, but that would have been REALLY pushing it. This was just 'normal' enough not to trigger his phobias… I hoped, anyway.
Without saying another word he passed me and closed the door, turning the lock.
Legs shaking.
Palms sweating.
Ears ringing.
Cock straining.
I was going to see my dream guy showering. I couldn't even fathom it.
He stood by the door, facing me.
My eyes were glued to him. Taking in every ounce of his flawless pearly skin.
"You ready?" He said, his face gravely serious.
Why was there so much tension in the room? He looked like he was about board a one-way trip to Mars…
I started feeling a little bad… Like, I didn't want him to do it just because he felt pressured. My better half chimed in, "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you like this. I… I'll go and wait in the room."
I stood up and turned to face him and almost fell on my ass. Ollie's boxers were on the floor. Hands by his side. Looking straight at me.
He was letting me see him.
I took in a sharp, audible breath.
My eyes focused on the hottest brown curly pubes I'd ever seen. I had no idea pubes could be so beautiful. His penis was perfectly proportioned, laying on top of his pastel-pink balls. My heart was fluttering. He was more perfect than I could have ever imagined.
I looked back into his eyes. I could see uncertainty. It had to be difficult to let someone see you totally naked, especially in harsh bathroom lighting… But he'd done it for me. I was so fucking hard. My dick would be a diamond until sometime tomorrow afternoon. I knew that for a fact.
Fuck the Statue of David. THIS is art. THIS is as beautiful as the male form gets.
Michelangelo can go fuck himself. He was a clueless fool as far as I was concerned.
I wanted to drop to my knees. Fuck the shower. I didn't give a fuck whether he smelled like soap or sweat. Come to think of it I wasn't sure which smell I'd prefer… I was consumed.
I couldn't bring myself to speak. But I knew I had to say SOMETHING.
"You're…" I let out a breath and looked into his eyes, "You're… The most beautiful guy I've ever seen."
He broke eye-contact and shook his head with a smile… Sort of implying that I was being ridiculous.
"I'm not joking, Ollie. I'm serious. You're… Perfect… Fuck, dude. I don't know what to say."
"Can I get in the shower now?" He said, with wry smile.
"Eh… I suppose… But walk slowly." I said, followed by chuckle.
"My best friend the pervert… Hmmm…. Sounds like something you'd see on TLC. It's a role made for you." Ollie said with a giggle, as he started his journey to the shower.
I watched as his manhood bounced all around with each step he took. Fuck… I wished I had photographic memory. I wanted this sight burned into my brain forever.
Then what he'd said clicked. He called me his 'best friend'.
Ollie is so smart but sometimes so naive. Like, how did he just conclude that we're best friends? We've only known each other for maybe a month and a half! But the more that I thought about it the more it made sense. We've been spending every weekend together. I mean, sure Sara and Devan are also my 'best friends', but I wasn't doing the things with them that I was doing with Ollie.
In reality, Ollie and I were MORE than friends, at least in some way. But I could tell that he didn't have a name for what we were, yet. Our relationship didn't fit neatly into one of society's boxes. We definitely weren't 'boyfriends'… Yet. So I guess it made sense why he categorized us as best friends… I mean, if this is what best friends do then I'm all for it!
I don't know what I'm trying to say, ok? I'm saying that hearing him call me his best friend made my whole world sparkle. That's the TLDR version. Was being best friends with Ollie my ultimate goal? No. But it was PROGRESS. And progress I'll take.
Ollie made his way to the glass-door of the shower. I would be able to see right in there until the steam fogged it up. As he leaned in to test the water temperature I was eye-level with his milk-white ass. His butt was a little smaller than mine but just as round. Absolutely FLAWLESS. He had a tiny bit of hair in his crack. And that shit set me off more than anything else had so far. I mean even his hairy butt crack was driving me wild. THE FUCK!
The thoughts I was having… Let me tell you. Bad thoughts… Very non-hetero thoughts. Let's just put it that way.
"Ahem…" Ollie said, exaggerating the sound.
I quickly looked up from his ass to his eyes, "Uh, great ass?"
He looked at me with a straight face, and then started cracking up.
He got in the shower and started soaping up. At a certain point I couldn't really make out his face or body. To break the tension I had started talking about his game and what had led to the big win. Staying quiet was just too awkward.
"So did you have a good time on your first day?" I heard Ollie say through the mountain of steam.
"It's been so much fun, babe." I said, cringing a little.
He had said it the night before! It's only fair that I can say it. It still felt a little awkward, if I'm honest.
He didn't respond. Instead I watched as his butt cheeks pressed against the glass… A couple seconds after that they started swaying from side to side, slowly gliding against the glass, clearing away the fog that had formed there.
Without thinking I dropped from the toilet seat onto my knees.
I was gone.
He was teasing me!
"Why so quiet?" I heard Ollie say, his voice filled with mischief.
"Just… Uh, admiring the… Admiring the scenery."
"Perv."
"Tease!"
We both laughed.
After a few minutes and several near-jizzing-my-pants experiences later, he shut the water off.
"Get me a towel, please."
I stood up and handed it to him, taking in every detail. The diamond-like water drops on his shoulders, his glistening hair, that little droplet at the end of his chin. I was mesmerized by all of it.
He dried off his body and put on an electric-blue pair of boxer-briefs.
I quickly stood and went towards the door, preparing to let him leave, while also attempting to hide the biggest boner of my life.
"Where do you think you're going?" He said.
"Oh, I was just gonna let you out…"
"The fuck you are… Your turn." He said, as he sat on the toilet, drying his hair.
Ohhhhhhhh fuck. Oh God oh fuck… Fuck.
Oh shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
FUCK.
You've really done it this time, Ian!
He can't see my BONER!! That's like… EXTRA.
My hands were covering my erection. I hadn't even considered the possibility that he would hold me to my own standard.
"But… I'm… Kinda in a situation here." I said, looking down.
"Look at me, Ian… You wanted to see me. Now I wanna see you."
I looked at him. His face was commanding, only making my erection worse. If he knew the power he had over me… Shit, maybe he knows already. There was no way I was saying no.
My legs were shaking as I took off my shirt. He unabashedly looked over my chest. I reached for my belt buckle…
It's now or never.
In one fell swoop, I pushed my underwear and pants to the ground, straightened my back, and looked straight ahead.
I could see my dick bouncing in my peripheral vision. This was by far and away the hardest thing I'd ever done. Pun intended.
My biggest concern was that my dick would weird him out. I'm not cut. And my foreskin - even when I'm hard - covers like half of the head of my dick, at least until it's pulled back.
"You're not…" Ollie said, then paused.
I forced myself to look at him.
"No, I'm not." I said.
"Come closer." He said, staring straight at my hard dick. His face had an air of curiosity to it.
With the speed of a senior citizen, I approached the toilet, until I was maybe a foot away from him.
I watched as he reached his hand towards my dick and then stopped, "You mind if I…"
"No! I don't mind at all…" I said, cutting him off.
He used a couple of his fingers to pull back the foreskin, exposing the head of my dick.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. My knees buckled. I had to catch my balance on the countertop next to the toilet.
He then gently pulled the skin forward until it covered the head completely.
Watching him playing with my foreskin was the MOST arousing thing I'd ever experienced. I had full-body shakes from that shit. My whole body was vibrating.
"Dude this is so cool!" Ollie said, bringing me back into reality. I looked at him and saw a wide smile on his face.
"Uh… Th-th-thanks."
"You're so messy… Leakin' like crazy… What a perv." He said, with a wry smile.
"Dude, I can't help it!" I said, defensive.
"Yours is thicker than mine, I think." He said.
He firmly gripped the base of my dick, squeezing - hard.
That was it.
He should've known better.
My vision narrowed.
My body went rigid as stone.
BOOM.
I shot a rope of jizz just past his face making a splat on the wall.
"Oh God." I moaned.
Ollie didn't miss a beat. He aimed my dick towards his midsection to catch the cum and started jerking me. I was so overwhelmed that I had to hold onto his shoulders for balance.
"I'm so sorry…" SPURT "Oh shit, dude" SPURT "Oh… fuck… keep going…" SPURT.
OH FUCK.
What a fucking champion. He didn't miss a beat! He knew he'd started something and fucking finished it.
My whole body was shaking. Like, noticeably.
"Oh my god, Ollie… I swear I didn't mean for that to happen." I said, horrified, shivering.
I opened my eyes and surveyed the damage.
My cum was dripping from his chest to his belly. I'd NEVER come that much in my LIFE! It was so much. His chest looked like a freshly-glazed Krispy Kreme donut.
"Fuck. I don't usually make this much." I was trying every possible out. Still trying to catch my breath… He still hadn't spoken or reacted.
Finally, he responded, "What. A. Perv."
A giant smile had spread across his face.
God, the relief. He wasn't mad at me. Fuck, that was the best orgasm of my life. It felt even better now knowing that he wasn't being a baby about it.
"Says the guy who couldn't keep his hands off my schlong." I said, with a goofy-ass smile.
"Hey! That was in the interest of science! You're the one that turned it into a 2-dollar porno!" He said, laughing.
"Fuck off! People would pay a lot more than two bucks to see that money shot!"
We both laughed.
Finally he let go of my aching cock. I was still just as hard as I'd been before. Wasn't it supposed to go down after you cum? The fuck!?
"I guess you're gonna need another shower." I said.
"Nah."
He stood up and got his dirty towel and dried his hand and chest with it, and threw it in the hamper.
My mouth was hanging open.
He's gonna sleep with my jizz on his chest?
"Are you sure?" I said, "I won't try anything, I promise."
He didn't respond. He just put his night shirt on and then took out his tooth brush and started brushing his teeth.
He hadn't even washed his hands!
Who's the REAL perv in this relationship???
How is it that everything he does drives me fucking crazy!? The thought of him being so comfortable with my jizz on him that he'd sleep with it was fucking dizzying.
I quickly showered and dried off. Still hard of course. Put on my boxer-briefs and brushed my teeth.
When I got to Avery's room Ollie was already in the bed, arms behind his head.
I felt so relaxed, and yet even more charged than before. I kept playing that entire scene over and over in my head. It all felt like it was meant to be.
Like, I know some people obsess about their first experience being 'perfect', but to me that WAS perfect. There were no expectations or weird preparations. It just happened. I was just mad that I didn't have the courage to push him as far as he'd pushed me.
But I would. Not tonight. But today gave me some leverage against his prudishness. And I intended to use it. And soon.
I slipped into the bed and got on my side facing him. Without hesitating he turned towards me, and snuggled right up to my chest. Burying his face against the center of my ribcage.
"Does that thing ever go down?" Ollie said, nudging my boner with his leg.
"Uh… Not when you're around." I said.
I felt his breath on my chest as he let out a muffled chuckle.
He left his leg pressing against my boner. Forcing me to resist the urge to hump him like a dog.
It's like he knows EXACTLY what to do to make me fucking delirious. He has a knack for that shit. But I'm NOT complaining. My dick likes touching him. I know that now.
"I have a confession to make." I heard him say, his words vibrating through my upper body.
"I'm listening." I said, gliding my fingers through his thick brown hair, trying not to flex my dick against his hairy leg - and failing.
"Promise not to laugh."
I laughed.
"Fine, I'm not telling." He said, followed by a half-assed attempt to pull away from me. I locked my arms around him and pulled him even closer. He wasn't getting away that easy.
"I'm sorry… I couldn't resist! I promise not to laugh. Come on babe. Tell me." I said, talking into his hair.
"The uh… pullout bed is super comfortable. Probably more comfortable than this bed. There, I said it."
For a second I wasn't sure what he meant. Then it clicked. He'd been bullshitting me last night!
"Ma Back! Oh ma poor back! I can feel the support bar! It's killin' ma back!" I said, and then erupted into laughter.
I felt him giggling like crazy against my chest - against his will, I'm sure.
That started a fit of hysterics between us. Full-on cackling.
"Ohhh…." I paused to gain my composure, his face was still hidden against my chest, I continued, "Fuck, that sounds just like something I'd have done… Well, go on. Tell me why you lied to your best friend…"
"You know why." I heard, muffled.
"Ollie, Please… I wanna hear it."
He laid there, perfectly still. I wasn't sure if he was ignoring me or not. But I waited in the hopes that he was getting his thoughts together.
"I kinda… Well… At first I thought it would be fine… You know, when Michelle told us we'd be sleeping separate. But, I dunno… I felt weird about it somehow. I didn't like it and I wasn't sure why."
I laid there quiet as a mouse, stroking his hair, letting my fingers brush against his back.
"When I was on the pullout bed I just felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be in here… with you… Ok, I WANTED to be in here with you… Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"I want to hear the truth you little fibber!"
He briefly lifted his head from my chest, "Well, that's the truth. I like you. There. Have some truth." He buried his head back in my chest.
I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head, smelling the sweet scent of his shampoo.
"I like you more." I said, and then tickled his sides, causing him to burst into laughter.
I had no idea he'd be so ticklish!
"Stop it, PERV!" He said between hysterics.
This was the first time he'd shown me his playful side. I was fucking elated. He was sooooo fucking cute. Godfuckingdamnit! I couldn't take it!
Ever since we'd gotten home from the tournament it was like he was a different person. None of the intensity he'd displayed a majority of our time together. Just a playfulness. An openness. It made my eyes water. I thought lying next to him was my dream. I thought feeling his closeness was my dream. But it was THIS kind of intimacy I craved the most. Seeing a side of him he reserved just for me. My heart was bursting. He was gorgeous on the outside. But this sweetness. This closeness I felt. That was beyond anything looks could ever make me feel. He was an angel sent by God. I know that now. And I'll protect my angel with my life. I know that too.
I hardly slept that night. I just held him. Smelled him. Felt him against me. I went in and out of consciousness a few times and then woke to make sure he was still in my arms.
What he lacked in verbal communication he made up for with his actions. I wanted to hear him tell me that I was beautiful too. That I made his world complete. That I made his stomach burn the way he made mine. Maybe those words would come eventually, I wasn't sure. But when we were together, alone… He showed me a lot more than words ever could.
I guess that old saying has some meaning after all: 'Actions speak louder than words.'
God I hope that's true. Please let that dumb old saying being true.
My happiness. My hopes. My dreams. They're all depending on that saying.
Maybe one day I'll hear those words.
That will be the happiest day of my life.
Well, the second happiest. Nothing can top this, right now.
Nothing.
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