tagGay MaleThe Ian & Justin Chronicles Ch. 01

The Ian & Justin Chronicles Ch. 01


Hello Everyone! You asked for it and here it is! (or at least half of it...keep reading...)

The Ian and Justin SPIN OFF Series!

Posted below you will read the beginning of Ian and Justin's love story as began in Speech and Debate, my original series here where we all fell in love with David and Daniel.

Now, it's time for a little change.

This story is told from Justin's point of view. This means, you get the tale from the Nerd's side of things, similar to the David and Daniel stories. If you are interested in hearing some other voices...perhaps the story told from the Jock point of view...

just go to my author page here and read how that can happen!

I hope you enjoy this book and that I'll hear from you all in the comments.

Go to my author page!

All my best-

D A Mackey

DISCLAIMER: The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.


Bull & Swan: The Ian and Justin Chronicles Book 1: Uncharted Territories Justin's Point of View

by D A Mackey


Nothing I did made any difference.

I was utterly powerless. No amount of reasoning or logic had worked in my favor. I pulled out every Socratic argument trick I knew in order to try and convince them. I argued passionately in my own defense and put up a theory of the case that I, in all of my eighteen years of vast life experience, knew to be worthy of any court in the land. Alas, no matter what I said, no matter the number of cogent and thought out points I made with tears brimming in my eyes, nothing swayed my parental units. Even an appeal to the pathos of the injured offspring did not move their stony hearts and fell on deaf ears.

And so, despite the obvious impediments to my own mental and physical safety and emotional well-being, which I laid out in detail before my captors/judges (alias: Mom and Dad,) there I was: in the middle of the forrest somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains on an overly hot late spring day in the Southern United States, surrounded by four dozen "peers," the vast majority of whom couldn't tell you my first and last name if shown my picture and offered a monetary reward despite having been in the same classroom as me for the past 13 years.

My tent, borrowed by my father from my least favorite cousin (a large and unruly lot to choose from --the Irish are prolific breeders,) was pitched off by itself in a spot I deemed to be as secluded and apart from the others as it was reasonably possible to be while still remaining actually ON the school camping trip. I guess I had no choice but to make the best of this bad situation. The two dozen or so bug bites already forming on my pale legs and arms stood as a living testament to my torturous misfortune. I am not normally one for overly dramatic complaining, but I was one small step away from a full on melancholy "woe is me," moment. Was there ever such a horribly put upon teenager in upper middle class America as myself? Nay, I tell thee!

The shrill whistle called us all to the central fire pit area. (I silently cursed myself for not remembering the whistle argument when debating my parents: the whistle was an instrument of PTSD considering I was a nerd and therefore Physical Education and the whistle were like weapons to me. Damn.)

I, as per usual, stood in the back of the group, trying mightily to make myself as small as humanly possible. For a few years now, this had proved to be no small task, being as my body had decided to settle on the over six foot lanky side after the horrors of puberty, damning me to a life of being all elbows and knees, long lithe limbs and a naturally skinny frame with visible rib bones.

I couldn't tell you the instructions the Coach of the football and baseball teams, leader of this glorious extravaganza, laid out for us. I couldn't even remember his actual name. It was a letter, I was pretty sure. (Coach K? No, that wasn't right. D? F?) Anyhow, it hardly mattered. I was sure I would hear it mentioned somewhere along the line over the course of the torture exercises -- a.k.a. weekend.

(Okay, so maybe I'm a little more predisposed to the dramatic than I'm generally willing to admit.)

I found that it was easiest to not pay too close attention. To much of anything. My mind tended to obsess when I focused. If I just tagged along and didn't make too much noise or put up any resistance, if I just let life happen to me however it saw fit, I usually got along and came out the other side with only minor scrapes and bruises. There were others of my social class who hadn't learned that lesson-- other nerds who would stand up to the system, rage against the injustice that came with being above average in intelligence. For all of their protest, all I ever saw it glean them was one humiliating beat down after another. How many times did one need to be thrown into a fountain or slammed into a locker before one learned to just shut your mouth and keep your head down? Pay them no mind, ignore their existence, do your best to ignore your own, and everyone got along just fine. It wasn't exactly a pleasureful life, certainly not an overly social one, but it was largely free of unnecessary angst.

I was somewhere near the very back of the long line of classmates as we trudged along a well trodden path towards the peak of the morning's outing. Behind me were parent volunteers and chaperones. Ahead, a group of the super popular guys. Four of them, and a strange addition I hadn't seen in their midst before.

Daniel was wearing ridiculously short shorts. Something out of a 70's era porno flick, if you happened to enjoy such things.

(I, myself, didn't really particularly care for pornography in general, regardless of the era of production.)

His thighs looked about ready to tear the fabric at the seams. His legs were bigger around than my torso. How on earth did someone get that...huge?! No matter what I ate, I never seemed to gain an ounce. But Daniel was wider across his shoulders than I was tall, or so it seemed. What must it be like to live in a body like that? Was it heavy? Did it feel like you were always Godzilla destroying the city beneath your massive weight? And what about the BODYHAIR? Didn't it get caught on things? Daniel had more hair on his legs than I had on my head, or so it seemed. Not to mention the dark shadows of buzzed black chest hair. I had only just recently plucked out my lone chest hair. It took me nearly three minutes to find the thing -- blonde hair tends to disappear at the right angles in most light.

Then again, compared to Ian, the beast that trudged along beside him, Daniel almost looked small. That boy, (the term hardly fit him despite his mere 18 or 19 years) was easily the size of two grown men. I shivered thinking about what that massive body was capable of. Things that I struggled to attempt he didn't even have to think about.

The newcomer to their foursome of popularity was who captured my attention.

He was "one of us." One of the nerd brigade. If we nerdy types had had much of a social group together at school, he probably would have been elected as the Leader of the Nerds based on his GPA and intellect alone.

Did social friend groups elect leaders? I'm unsure how that would work. But either way, what on earth was David doing with the jock set? He was Valedictorian for Christ's sake! If you asked me, I would never admit it, but I was always a little jealous of David. Everything came easy to him. He was a good student, of course, but he never seemed to try as hard as I did, and yet he beat me in nearly every academic metric. Not by much, mind. But still, he was gifted.

I had picked up some rumors regarding some kind of kerfuffle that had happened between David and Amy back at Prom. I hadn't gone, of course. Why would I? I'm no dancer ( not with this unruly assortment of limbs and joints) and, to be honest, I already felt like I was forced to spend too much time in the presence of these people as it was. Why would I spend a Friday night with them as well? Of my own free will. No, thank you.

Either way, Amy did seem to be a bit of a pariah recently, socially speaking. As much attention as I paid to such things, at least.

I put them out of my mind and focused instead on cataloging the different species of trees and the different types of rocks I passed. (A childhood past time that got me through week long summer trips with my extended family). After what seemed like five hours, we were forced to stop for lunch on an outcrop of sorts. I found a secluded space on a fallen log in the shade and waited for my brown bag lunch to be delivered.

When it came, I opened it and sighed, more dramatically than I intended.

"Pardon me?" I attempted to get the attention of a passing chaperone. "I can't have peanut butter and jelly. I'm allergic."

The middle aged woman looked at me with something akin to pity in her eyes and searched the box of lunches. She pulled out one that was marked with a big red "A."

"A...for allergy, sweetheart," she drawled as she handed it over to me. "Enjoy, now!" she twittered as she sauntered away.

I did my best not to laugh out loud.

I was literally handed a big Scarlet Letter. And it was the same letter from the novel to boot. The irony and aptness was nearly too keen. I had been branded with an A. One can't actually be an adulteress if you're still a virgin, but nonetheless, the social pariah part held true. I was chuckling to myself when I caught David looking over in my direction. He smiled warmly and I think I must have done something weird with my face because he looked a little frightened. Or maybe sad?

"Justin!" boomed a voice from behind David. I jumped at my name. I pointed to myself as if there was another Justin or two hiding out somewhere nearby.

"Yes, you!" Ian guffawed. "You see another Justin?"

I shook my head.

My mouth was dry and my heart was racing. Adrenaline pumped through me and I tried to quickly do the calculations on how fast I would need to run to outpace Ian. He was big, right? He couldn't be all that fast, so I might stand a chance if I took off at a sprint and let long gangly strides carry me to safety.

"Come over here, buddy," Ian smiled warmly (at least I think it was warmly? Or was it hungrily? Could he actually consume me? Probably. I don't know, I was in a panic.)

He knew my name. What was I supposed to do?

Ian knew my name. HE knew my name and he had called me over.

Was it even possible to refuse such an offer? Would that anger him, somehow? If I declined, would that mean something much worse would be coming my way at a later date? His face would seem to say that his offer of a seat between him and Daniel was genuine. At least, I think it was genuine. Who was I to judge such things? The jock set was anathema to me. The wide toothy grin he presented and the twinkling light of his brown eyes might have been a trap for all I knew. I could very well walk over there only to promptly be thrown off the mountain when no one was looking.

But I stood up. I don't understand why or how, but I stood up. And to my surprise I didn't shake like a new born foal either. I swayed a bit, true. But that was minor and easily kept under wraps. Shakily, I shuffled slowly over to them. Ian patted the log once more and motioned for me to take a seat.

If there had been a way to hover over the log itself, I would have done it. As it stood, I sat so lightly, tensed so greatly that I doubted the log would have known I was there at all.

"How you hangin' in there, buddy?" Ian asked, jostling me a bit. By a bit I mean that my entire torso was shoved mightily into Daniel's shoulder on my right.

"Fine," I squeaked. And IMMEDIATELY wanted to die on the spot. My voice broke and caught in my chest.

"Breathe, dude," Daniel whispered gently from beside me. "He's not going to eat you."

My eyes shot open wide.

How had he known? Could he read my mind? Did jocks somehow read minds now? Was that even humanly possible? Were jocks considered human?

David leaned past Daniel and rescued me, to only a slight personal distaste at needing to be rescued in the first place. One couldn't really ever stay mad at David. Not truly, even when he beat you for Valedictorian by less than 1/10th of a GPA point. He was simply too nice of a person.

"He's alright, Justin," David assured me. "No trick here. He knows better than that. He tries any bull shit and he knows I'll hand him his balls on a platter. Isn't that right, you big ox brained lummox?"

David raised his eyebrow at Ian, who mockingly straightened his spine and saluted.


"Cross my heart, Buddy," Ian offered. My mouth must have been hanging open because he finished with a gentle chuckle, "you better close that gaping maw or you're gonna end up catching more bugs than you know what to do with."

And then he winked.

Ian -- THE Ian -- winked. At me.

Somewhere in the back of my brain a part of me was screaming,

"I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

"Just wanted to see if you might like to hang with us for the rest of the hike, is all?" Ian offered gently, apparently aware that his normal bravado was throwing me for a loop. My jaw worked but no sound came out. I looked to David and saw him nod slightly. Ian looked at me with the question still hanging in the air between us.

He looked sincere. His eyes were wide and open and I couldn't detect even the smallest hint of malice or violence in their dark brown depths. He had very nice eyes. I'd never noticed that before. They reminded me of cinnamon and the autumn. I liked the autumn.

What the hell? What was there to lose? I'd already come this far. David seemed to be surviving okay. His fingers were entwined with Daniel's at the moment. So that little rumor was confirmed. Interesting. Besides, my therapist had been encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone and start taking more risks. What could be riskier than hiking with a group of jocks who could demolish me in an instant?

I nodded.

Ian's smile was almost radiant. How had I never noticed the way the little lines on his face crinkled when he smiled? Had I ever seen him smile before? It was...comforting.

The trash was soon collected from the lunches, and the hike resumed. In my hyper aware state, I took notice when one of the two other jocks (Gordon? I think?) left the group for a moment to jog ahead of the line. Where he went, I have no idea. Ian was plodding along behind me and David and Daniel on either side of me. I was surrounded, essentially.

Surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable.

The missing jock returned.

"We can go," he told Ian. "Well, as good as Coach could tell me."

"Awesome," Ian smiled. "Hey, Justin, buddy. You wanna go see some waterfalls?"

As if I was able to say no at this point.

I just nodded.

I was shocked at how easily the jocks were able to slip away from the main group. The chaperones bringing up the rear didn't even attempt to stop us when we fell behind. They just kept on walking and didn't even look behind them to see what our group was up to.

How did they get away with that? If it had been just me by myself, I am very sure that I would have been hustled along and forced to keep up with the rest of the group. But that was a question for another time.

Ian lead us over to a small side path that lead straight down. It was narrower than the main trail and covered with large boulders. They expected me to jump down from rock to rock like some kind of nerdy billy goat? I was just barely standing up and keeping my balance as it was.

"Don't worry, little buddy. I got ya," Ian nearly giggled from behind me. "Just follow where I step. I'll make sure you get down there safely, okay?"

I swallowed hard against a lump that mysteriously appeared in my throat. I nodded. I was doing a lot of nodding today. My therapist would be proud.

Ian jumped down the trail and leapt effortlessly onto a boulder. He extended his hand out to me, smiled broadly and motioned for me to jump.

"He likes you," David whispered from my shoulder. "You can trust him. Believe me."

I nodded. Again.

And then, I jumped.

Both of my feet left the ground and went wheeling through the air. I was immediately embarrassed, imagining what I must look like, all long limbs and terrified features hurtling in mid air. At least I didn't scream like girl. I could hold on to that much pride.

And then I felt Ian's fingers grip my shoulders like a vice. He caught me in mid air with practiced ease and set me down gently in front of him. My hands landed palm flat on his broad chest.

It was like touching an actual stone. They softened just slightly under my touch, but even through his t-shirt, I could feel the strength and warmth of him. He flexed a little as he settled me onto my own two feet. I couldn't help but stare up at him.

He smiled again.

He really should smile more.

There was something about the way it made his face soften, the way his eyes sparkled in the sun. It almost made me forget about who and what he was, almost drowned out the nagging pain of the bug bites.

I had to admit, the muscles helped too.

No, this certainly wasn't Kansas anymore. This was full on, technicolor Oz territory and I had no choice but to just go along for the ride.

God help me. Jumping from rock to rock got easier the more times I did it.

By no means did I start taking the leaps on my own. Not a chance. I knew from years of attempting much less brazen feats of athleticism that I was far from coordinated enough to try that. I still waited for Ian to make the jump first, watching him closely, measuring where his feet landed and how much force he'd used for the jump before I'd follow and let him catch me.

He never missed me, not even once. The more times I landed pressed up against him the more I came to notice just how solid he truly was. He could have been a boulder himself. If a boulder flexed his pectorals instinctively whenever I touched them.

At least, I thought it was instinctively? Right? Must have been.

The trek down took about fifteen minutes.

Or six days. I really don't know.

I wasn't keeping track of time as I tried my damnedest to escape this trip without breaking a bone. Even the thought of rubbing a broken bone in my parents' faces wasn't distraction enough ("See! I told you this was a bad idea. Next time maybe you will listen to your son. Now, let's talk about staying home for Cousin Mary's upcoming wedding...")

As we got closer I could begin to hear the sound of the falls drawing near. The louder that sound got, the more excited Ian became. Instead of simply catching me and letting me down gently as he'd done up at the top of the path, here at the bottom he'd catch me and sort of swing me around in the air before he set me down facing the direction of our next leap. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't just the tiniest bit fun. I had zero fear he would drop me and it was cool to be weightless for a moment in the arms of a big friendly giant.

The boulders ended and the path cleared a bit for the last 20 yards or so. I could just see the falls through a little clearing in the trees beyond the banks of the river. They were truly beautiful. I was just about to thank Ian for inviting me down to see them when...

"Woooo! Hell fuckin' yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about dude!"

Ian pumped both massive fists in the air and whooped loud and long. We'd learned about the "Rebel Yell," in the 3rd grade State History during the section on "The War of Northern Aggression," a.k.a The American Civil War. Hearing it less than a foot from your ear drums was something else.

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