7/02/2015

Story Orgy Superheroes: A Man of Unusual Talent Part 10 #malexmale #superheroes






Welcome back and good morning all! 

Who knew Monday came so quickly? Well, today I'm glad it did, because Monday is Story Orgy day! 

Ready to get the low down on CC and Mat? 







Story Orgy Superheroes: A Man of Unusual Talent


June 29: "Some things you'll never forget."

 Warm. Soft. Cozy. Mm. Mat’s bedroom. Mat’s bed. Images of thick muscles and fine brown hair, of that crooked, sexy little grin, and the eager to please glint in blue eyes flashed in rapid succession behind CC’s closed eyelids. “Oh, yes please,” CC murmured, stretching so hard his joints cracked. He could so use more of the loving that had exhausted him before. CC stretched his fingers across the bed, seeking a hard body. Mat should be here…. And a casual, sleepy touch could lead to so much more. 
When his fingers encountered nothing but rumpled sheets, he sat up and opened his eyes. Blinking, he observed the almond painted walls, the pale blue drapes, the oatmeal ceiling. He realized that yes, this was Mat’s bedroom, but Mat wasn’t sleeping next to him. So much for fantasies. Reality was waking up alone in a strange bed. 
It’s not that strange. I did sleep here before… sort of. 
Keep them separate.  He reminded himself. Hurt threatened to well up, vocalize itself, but CC stamped it down into a tiny ball and swallowed it. So he woke up alone. Big deal. Wasn’t the first time some guy had left him snoozing in bed, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one to do the leaving plenty of times either. 
In fact, if her were perfectly honest with himself, then that’s exactly what he’d planned when he came home to watch superhero movies with Mat the other day. One night, fantastic sex, high school clashing with adulthood, creep out and get coffee on your way home. 
CC slung his feet to the floor and stretched again. Thank goodness Mat had other plans. He’d hate to be feeling melancholy right now because of that night. 
Oh you’ve got much better things to stress over, don’t you? 
What?
Have you forgotten your little episode at the bank?
“Oh fuck me.” He dropped his head in hands and sighed deeply. 
“I’d love to, really, but I have to go into the station. Dillon just called and he’s got something I need to see.” Mat stepped in through the open bedroom door, rubbing a towel over his head, grinning happily. Another towel was wrapped tight around his waist, “Sorry, Did the shower noise wake you? I tried to be quiet, but it’s an old house and the pipes do rattle.”
 Great. Want to bet what his asshole brother wants to show him is the video footage from the bank’s security cameras? “Uh… I don’t know. Maybe” Focus idiot. You need to get out of here before he sees that tape. CC stood up. “It’s okay though. I have to go myself. I have work.” 
Mat nodded thoughtfully, continuing to rub his hair dry with the towel. “CC?”
CC stared at his feet. “Yeah?”
“You never asked about the robbery. Don’t you… Aren’t you curious?”
“Oh. Yeah. So what happened after I passed out?”
“Well, after the freak hail of marshmallows started--”
“I saw that part.” CC interrupted, flinching. Freak. You don’t know the half of it, buddy. 
“Oh right… well, it turned out to be two kids from the high school, trying to stage a prank.”
Oh fuck. And he knew just which two kids, too. CC nodded dumbly. His tongue too thick and throat to dry to force words out. 
“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.” 
CC nodded again and pushed his way past Mat into the bathroom, shooting the lock with trembling fingers. Oh fuck.  

***
“Little brother, there are some things you’ll never forget.” Dillon swiveled in his desk chair, one hand on the computer mouse,  the other tapping out a rhythm on his desk blotter. 
“Yes. Front row tickets to see Petty, losing your virginity, shaking the president’s hand… Pops saying he’s proud of you. I get it. Rare and wonderful moments in every man’s life.” Mat gestured impatiently at the screen. “Get on with it.”
Dillon paused, mouth twisting into a grimace as though those were not the things he’d thought of. “Okay, this isn’t quite on a par with that, but…”
“What’s up, guys?” Thorn’s thick head popped up next to Mat, accompanied by a sharp smack on the ass that made him jump. 
“Thorn!”
“What?” 
Dillon transferred his attention to their cousin. “Jesus, Thorn. It’s not the seventh grade locker room, get over that or someone will slap you with a harassment suit.”
Thorn blushed, “I… Sorry, Mat. Didn't mean anything by it.”
Mat blinked in astonishment. “No problem, Thorn. What…”
“It looks like that sensitivity training seminar is taking root after all.” Dillon muttered sarcastically. “Okay now… You have to see this.”
“Go on, play it.” Mat shifted to the side to let Thorn crowd in next to him. 
Dillon clicked the mouse, and on the computer screen, the bank lobby popped up. Six customers, two tellers, skinny little Mr. Telfiori, and CC all stood frozen, staring at two kids in black suits and black shades, brandishing weapons. In the freeze frame, t was hard to believe anyone had actually thought those things were real, but Mat supposed that in the spur of the moment they might seem intimidating enough to cause panic. 
Which is what happened as soon as the video started moving. 
Without sound, it was still easy enough to follow. The people in the bank crouched against the marble topped counter, CC looked terrified, and strangely intense. 
“This,” Dillon pointed one long finger at the screen. “Is where it gets weird.” 
And weird wasn’t even the word for it. 
In front of Mat’s eyes, right on tape, where it couldn't’ be faked, blobs of white started falling from the ceiling. Bigger than the plaster bits they’d already watched fall from the air pellet gun’s shot. 
“Those are the marshmallows?” Thorn asked. 
“Yessir. Big fat marshmallows, falling from a plaster ceiling. Did you ever see anything like that in your life?” Dillon asked, smiling slightly. 
Mat shook his head, but he wasn't watching marshmallows anymore. He was watching the face of one man in particular. CC. Collin Crane. His face went from fear, to abject terror to intense determination at about the moment that the bank robbers broke for the door and the hail of marshmallows became more concentrated, directed into the revolving door, jamming it shut. As the door stuck and the hail of marshmallows stopped, CC looked exhausted, putting his head down on his knees, and slumping to the side.
“Not something you see everyday, no.” Mat acknowledged. 
Dillon turned the video footage off. “No indication of where they came from or anything.” 
“Nothing, huh?” Thorn’s voice was muffled, and he cast a furtive glance at Mat. “You ever see anything like that, Mat?”
“I just said I didn’t, didn’t I?” Mat responded testily, not sure why he was suddenly feeling edgy. 
“It rained fish in Sri Lanka last year when I was on vacation.” Holly Briggs shrugged off their stunned glances. “I like exotic vacation spots?”
“Black birds fell out of the sky a few years back in Arizona.” Thorn nodded sagely. “This ain't’ any weirder than that.” On that pronouncement, he hurried off, casting Mat another furtive glance. 
***
“Hello?” CC leaned over the counter and grabbed the phone. Deana squawked behind him, and he remembered the traditional, stupidly wordy greeting the corporate office insisted on, too late. 
“Is this Collin Crane?” The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, and CC’s heart sank. He’d heard that voice in his nightmares for years. Not so much lately, not since he’d graduated high school and found out that outside the walls of Morrisonville high, things were better. 
Shit. “Yes, Collin Crane at Azer’s Get-n-Go. How may I help you?” He’d been fucking dreaming again, and forgot it wasn’t his own phone he was answering. 
“This is Terence Thorn with the Morrisonville police.”
Shit doesn't cover it. *** 
“Can I help you officer?” His voice shook, and he had to set down the bucket of cleaning water in his hand, it trembled so badly. Bleach water sloshed over the sides of the pail, splattered on his nearly new Vans. Great. Find something  awesome at the thrift store and turn it instantly into junk. Another fine talent you have there.
“We’ve been reviewing the footage of the bank robbery, and I need to talk to you.”
Security footage?  He remembered looking up, following Mr. Telfiori’s gesture as he pointed out the two cameras in the bank lobby. Two shiny, blank black eyes staring down at them from above. “Uh…”
“I’m leaving the station now and should arrive in about five minutes.” The phone call disconnected. 
CC stared blankly at the phone. How could he have forgotten about those security cameras? What kind of idiot was he turning into? “Fuck me,” he groaned. “What am I going to do now?” 
What was on those tapes that would send officer Thorn… and good god, why did it have to be Thorn of all people? Chasing over here after him? Surely there wasn’t any way … The marshmallows just seemed to appear out of nowhere, didn’t they? “Why me?”
“CC?” 
He snapped back out of his dark thoughts and met Deana’s concerned gaze. “Yeah?”
“Are you alright?” His manager stepped closer, pressed a warm palm to his forehead, like his mom used to do when he was younger and complained of not feeling well. “You’re pale, and clammy.”
“The police are coming to talk to me.” He felt chilled, and tension knotted his stomach. Maybe he should leave before they got here? Oh yeah? you think you’d make a good fugitive? Think Officer Thorn is too dumb to find your apartment? How far away do you think you’re going to go?”
“About the robbery attempt?”
“They didn’t actually try to steal anything.” CC felt obligated to point out in defense of the two teens. He felt some sort of… responsibility toward the boys. Their prank had been stupid, but if they’d gotten away with it, yeah, it might have been plenty epic. And it might have gotten his picture off that damned wall. 
“Semantics. A hare-brained stunt by any other name. What the hell is wrong with kids today?”
“I don’t know. I just… why do they want to speak to me? I was unconscious for most of it.”
“Aren’t they the two kids who came in asking for you?” Deana grabbed a bottle of water from under the counter and handed it to him. 
“Yeah. I didn’t see any faces at the bank though.” CC twisted the cap off the water and took a long gulp. “And even if I did, I couldn’t… ID them. That would be…”
The car that pulled into the parking lot wasn’t a police cruiser. It was a candy apple red Camaro-- someone’s second childhood, or erectile dysfunction on display. The blue uniformed man who climbed out of the low slung driver’s seat was definitely Terence Thorn though. 
“Oh god…” CC moaned and gulped more water. “Deana… Can I take my lunch break?”
She glanced at him sharply. “CC… you can’t run off and leave that cop standing here. I’m sure it’s nothing. He’ll need an official statement from you, that’s all. Didn’t you say you went to the hospital before they could talk to you?”
“Yeah.” Eyes glued to the cop who approached the front door, CC nodded. “Yeah. I passed out. You’re right, that’s probably it.” His mouth formed the words, but his heart… and his mind didn’t believe them. 
The bells on the door jangled. Terence Thorn, bane of CC’s sophomore year of high school, crossed the shop threshold. His gaze locked immediately with CC’s. 
“CC. Can we go somewhere more private?”
“Is CC in some kind of trouble?” Deana interjected, sharply. “Because he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I just need a private word, ma’am, so if he could take his break? CC?” Thorn stared at him, jaw working, eyes so intent CC wondered how his skin didn’t heat from the contact.
“Sure… not too long mind,” Deana waved at the bucket and the rags they’d been using. “We’ve got a lot more shelves to clean and we’re short handed as it is.”
“I’ll have him back before you miss him,” Thorn spun, opened the door, then marched through it. 
Rolling his eyes, CC caught the door before it shut all the way, and followed. Outside, Thorn jerked his head at the passenger side of the sports car. “Get in.”
“Is this really necessary? Can’t I just stop by the station and make a report later?”
“No. Get in.”



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1 comment:

  1. Oh noes...Thorn be good, PLEASE be good...and CC *hugs* just yeah...lol Loving this story, Lee :)

    ReplyDelete

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To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955