Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?
Chapter Eleven: Between a Rock, a Leaf, and a Hard Place
[Warning: This chapter is a bit.. graphic. Slightly.. gross. Its self-admittedly disgusting. So, read at your own risk and AN at end explains.]
Fang and I reached the picnic blanket and the flock five minutes later and found that Gazzy and Nudge had already gotten back from their flight. The younger kids were all sitting around in a circle, sipping on juice boxes, laughing and giggling; the weather today was truly divine. Iggy was comfortably splayed out on the blanket out to the side of the little circle of laughter, lazing about. His head rested on his arms, folded behind the back of his head. His shin rested on the knee that was propped up. He lazily hummed a tune, his eyes closed, and the foot resting on knee tapping the air to the beat.
"Hey, hey, no shoes on the blanket Igs! I don't want it dirty." I shouted out to him once we had gotten close enough.
"Max is back!!" Angel squealed delightfully, once she heard my voice. She was turned around to look at me from the circle they were sitting it. She waved to me outrageously; I was so scared her arm would fall off from the amount of energy she was putting into it. I laughed at her antics and left Fang, quickly jogging up to see the kids. I saw a teensy smile grace the edge of Fang's face as he watched his flock from afar, walking towards us in the same blasé pace, his hands casually slouched into his pockets. A beautiful spring whisp of a wind traveled down the hill, running through us before reaching Fang and ruffling his dark bangs, lifting them up for just a moment to reveal the pale olive-toned skin of his forehead, a sight rarely seen. I absentmindedly pondered how handsome Fang would look like without bangs on his forehead, his face clearly open for everyone to fully see. I paused in shock at the thought that had just run through my head. Why was I thinking something like that? Since when did it even matter?
Nevertheless, he had matured quite a bit. His face no longer held the boyishness that it once had, his jawline was more defined now. I had always wondered why Jeb had looked so different from us. He said it was because we were kids and he was an adult. Kids become adults, I thought...realized, absentmindedly. Fang reached the blanket, sitting down tiredly next to where Iggy was still splayed out on the ground, his foot now propped up on the grass instead of on top of the blanket.
I turned back to look at Gazzy in the circle the younger kids were in. His face was flushed red with adrenaline from his flight with Nudge down to the valley, where they explored things while Angel was being taught by Fang. Nudge and Gazzy were enthusiastically telling Angel about all the things that they saw—little fishy things in the pond that were shaped like plants but had bubbles come out of its mouth. An orange and white thing that Iggy interjected, was a crab, and had bit Gazzy's finger... and et celery. Gazzy was raising the red and swollen bulbous thing that had been his index excitedly up to Angel, sticking it in her face.
"Ewww.. Gazzy, get that away from me!!" Angel exclaimed, leaning back and wrinkling her nose, glaring at the Gasman. They started laughing wonderfully. Fang, Iggy and I leaned back, watching them, the sounds gracing our ears beautifully. They were having fun.
In between gasps of laughter, the Gasman reached over to Angel one more time. I laughed at his antics—he had such a bad sense of judgement—obviously, it can't work twice. I reached over and grabbed the side of Gazzy's cheek, squeezing the lush baby fat between my thumb and index finger and stretching it out, making his face look ghastly. This caused Nudge and Angel to break out in another outrageous fit of laughter. Angel, clutching her stomach, tipped back and fell down on the blanket, rolling around with her sock covered feet in the air. Gazzy grumbled, rubbing his cheek and muttering. I laughed even more. The day was incredible; I couldn't remember the last time I've laughed so hard since the Gasman's last prank on Iggy. The lush spring weather put me in a divine mood. It felt like all the worries had lifted off of my shoulders. I felt so free, so happy, it felt like even Fang's problem was just another trivial and easily solvable issue. It didn't feel so... so hopeless. I threw my head back and felt the sunlight fall onto my face, my laughter dying down with the wind to soft breaths.
I hummed happily, my eyes closed tight in the feeling of the day. I turned over and looked at Fang. He looked like he was just about to doze off right there on the blanket. It almost made me giggle. It was not something he'd be too happy about if he did. He'd usually be perched against a tree on a branch, sleeping. But the pooped, child-like face he had on while nodding off to sleep was priceless. I observed him more critically, taking advantage of the opportunity. He no longer had the baby fat that characterized Gazzy, that once had characterized him too. I could see his high cheekbones handsomely jut out. They were small, but several whisps of hair were growing down his face in front of his ear towards his neck. It nearly reached his jaw. It suited him though. I thought about the other day that I had seen the dark patches of under beneath his underarms too.
Jeb hadn't had sideburns, but he'd always had little tiny bumpy things on his face. Whenever he'd pick one of us and put us on his shoulder, you could feel the raggedness of these bumps. I remembered that if Jeb got up late oneday, the bumpy things would be darker and cover his whole jaw. One time, he hadn't done that thing to his face with a small stick and white creamy stuff for an entire week, and a bunch of hair had grown there. Like lightening, it suddenly struck me that Jeb had had sideburns, he'd simply taken them off. If he let the bumpy things grow out, he would've had hair all over his face. I looked closer at Fang now, who nearly asleep. There were soft whisps of dark hair beginning to creep down past his jaw onto his neck too, but it wasn't substantially hairy, yet. He was laying back now, with one elbow propping himself up behind him and the other arm resting on his knee. His eyes were closed peacefully, his chin nodding up and down gently. He was used to sleeping sitting up, all those years of perching himself up in branches had taught him this. Laying down right next to him was Iggy, still haphazardly splayed, still quietly humming his nonsensical little tune.
To my avid surprise, Iggy suddenly jot up from the ground and yawned ostentatiously, stretching his arms out behind him. He shook his head violently, freeing it of any critters that may have set up camp in the last 6 hours since he'd gotten up.
"Hey, I should get started on dinner now, shouldn't I?" He said, turning to face me, his sightless, beautiful electric blue eyes staring past me. I looked up to the sky to measure the time. From the position of the sun, it was probably around ten minutes of 6, give or take.
"Sure," I said to him, nodding. "If ya need any help, just ask." He nodded and leaned over to grab the ice cooler and wicker basket of stuff he had packed in the morning for getting dinner ready. He went right to work, taking out various utensils and appliances for the job. I watched his hands work for a moment, and then brought my eyes up to look at his face. Iggy, too, had matured quite a bit. His jaw and chin were long and lean, the hollows of his cheeks could be seen in slight indents on his face. There weren't long trails of hair down the front of his ears, but I noticed fine red threads stagger on his chin and above his upper lip. Subconsciously, I reached my hand up to feel around my own face. I didn't feel any strange protruding hairs though, and I was older than both of them.
There was something tired about the faces of Fang and Iggy, and even myself, I thought. Compared to Gazzys or Nudge's, ours seemed so much more... pained... experienced. It was expected. It was even in our demeanor. They were kids. They barely remembered the horrors of the School. The pain of Jeb leaving. The struggle of raising them... the struggle of raising ourselves. Iggy's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I saw his fingers feel a loaf of bread carefully, checking for any flaws or critters, or whatever it was that he was inspecting for.
I looked had in the mirror the other day in the bathroom and saw a look on my face that looked frighteningly similar to one of Jeb's. I remembered a time when my face looked as innocent and childlike as Gazzy's. Kids, they turned into adults, didn't they? Staring up at the beautiful, clear blue sky, I wondered. Humans, God, Animals, Plants... they all grow up, they all die... someday. Did God make us?
Humans age. Human-avian hybrids age. Can we really say that we are products of God? Or are we products of man? There was so much we didn't know about ourselves. Even humans.. how much did normal homosapiens know about themselves anyway? There was so much out there. There were bad people out there, who wanted to take us. There are humans out there, who aren't like us. They wouldn't understand us. We can't relate to them. We aren't like them. No matter how much Fang wanted to see the world... it isn't safe for us out there. We don't know anything about anyone out there... it was best for us to just stay here. It was safe. The kids are still young. Can we really assimilate to the world out there? Maybe Fang was right. That if we don't try, we truly never will be able to.
But... were we ever really meant to?
I sighed, opening my eyes and glanced at Iggy from the corner. He had brought a blender with him. Where the heck was he gonna plug that into?! Oh. He was doing some weird shit with some weird rocks and a stick and an electrical cord... wait, is that our modem? I paused and then rolled my eyes. Nevermind. Grub is grub. Who cares how he makes it?
Sitting on the other side of Iggy was Fang, who had officially dozed off, the side of his forehead resting on his knee. It's a useful thing, really, to be able to sleep in any position. An adaptation of necessity, I suppose, from years of living in a dog-crate. On the other side of me, Angel, Gazzy and Nudgy were amusing themselves, their giggles still sounding in moderation.
I ignored the clang of silverware and pots and pans as Iggy cooked, or rather, created. I heard a hiss of a fire from my right ear, but pointedly ignored it. Out of sight, out of mind... It was so much better to just not know, in Iggy's case at least, I thought wryly.
My mind slipped back to this afternoon... in the forest, with Fang. I hoped he was getting better, 'cause he didn't seem pained and as vulnerable like he had that first night in his room. On the contrary, it almost seemed like Fang dealt with it almost... leisurely. Normally. Maybe he was just trying to be overly blasé about it? Despite however well he was coping with whatever was happening now, the fact was, however, that it was still happening. And that was the real problem. What was happening? Why? All I knew so far was how to get rid of it, and only temporarily at that. They kept coming back.
I put my head in my hands, frustrated. I thought back to what happened today harder. Fang... had said it was really good? What was that supposed to mean? It felt good; not, "It doesn't feel bad anymore" and not "The bad feeling is gone," but an outrightly positive: "That was so good..."
I was really confused; needed to talk to Fang. We have to figure out what was happening to him, sooner, rather than later. What if something really bad ended up happening to him in the end? What if it was one of those things that grew with time? We needed to figure out, fast, so we could fix it, fast. My thoughts lead back to the point right after that. I was suddenly remembering how Fang had combed through my hair afterwards... That strange feeling in my gut had come back again. I tried to think about other things, but I felt even stranger. It was even worse when I remembered what Fang's abdomen had felt like when I had been checking up on him. The way he groaned deep in my ear... the way he said my name while he squirted the white stuff out... like he really needed me. Like I was only one that mattered. The only one that could help him. I shivered and hugged myself, bringing my hands around me to embrace myself.
This isn't right... I was feeling things that hadn't ever felt before. It didn't feel bad... but it felt... it felt weird. It wasn't right... I brought my hands down to touch my abdomen, where the hollow feeling resonated. Maybe I was sick now. Maybe it was because I had accidentally swallowed some of the white fluid that had come out of Fang's penis. There was so much of it, I couldn't help it, couldn't hold it all in my mouth at the same time. Some of it had leaked out down my chin, and some got accidentally swallowed some while I was trying to take breaths through my nose.
I applied pressure to the area with two fingers. It didn't seem to do much, but rubbing the area lower down felt... felt okay. It was pleasing. I continued to do it... somehow, my pulse increased. My breathing grew more shallow. I kept thinking about Fang and how he said my full name in the bathroom yesterday. He'd said it so many times, over and over again... his voice had been filled with emotion. I'd never heard him sound like that before in my entire life before then, and he had been saying it with such passion, such need... such... want.
"A-ah..." I let out a quiet moan in a shallow voice, my heart beating faster and faster, almost as if I were in flight. But I wasn't. I was still sitting here, down on the ground, staring at Iggy boil something in a tall pot.
Iggy turned around to face me, with a questioning look on his face.
"Hey, are you alright, Max?" He asked worriedly. I looked up at him, nervous, my eyes wide open and a flustered look on my face. Reality check.
"Yeah, um, I'm fine Iggy. Do you need some help with dinner?" I asked. It was like I was a deer caught in the headlights. Thank God that easily passed him and his sightless eyes.
"Nearly done. This is gonna taste awesome... Um, you can help grate the carrots. Don't hurt yourself though..." Iggy said cautiously, in a joking manner. Nevertheless, I knew he was still serious. Max plus cooking utensils equals disaster. Not a good mix.
I nodded, happy to have something to take my mind off of things and moved forward to the area of the large blanket where Iggy had set everything up. There was a fire a few meters away on the lawn that a large pot with steamers and a rack was boiling on top of, small round balls on top of the rack. I knelt forward to the clean wood fold-up board Iggy had taken out and set up in front of us, where he was peeling and chopping tomatoes neatly, dicing them into a pile to the side. Jealous, I took a carrot and began grating it carefully, moving on to the next one. I didn't suffer too many injuries, save two or three gashes on my fingers. Not too bad but I normally wasn't so clumsy... Something about a kitchen atmosphere just didn't agree with me though, I thought murderously, unhappy from the lack of cooking skills I suffered.
15 minutes later, I had three carrots messily grated, but grated nonetheless, sitting in front of me. I stared at them proudly, but it could've easily have been mistaken as a glare. Iggy laughed.
"Sure took ya long enough." He chuckled good-naturedly. I pouted, glaring at him. But it was ever-so-expectedly wasted on him.
"Okay, you can chop them now. They don't need to be really nice or anything, so that's why I don't really care if you mess up..." He started, playfully adding a belatedly interjected, "Which you probably will." I humphed loud enough for him to hear and poked Iggy in his side before searching for the knife. I couldn't see it on the wooden board where we were working and everything was set out. Iggy, hearing me shuffling around, and the inherent lack of chopping noises, realized what I was looking for.
"Oh. It's on my other side." He said. His hands were doused in the sauce he was making, so he gestured with his right elbow. I nodded, and then carefully went over to reach over him, as Iggy wiped his hands clean with the handcloth hanging from the edge of the table. Reaching up to put the handcloth back over the top of the handle of a hot pot, he brushed against me. His larger form prevailed, preventing me from reaching over and grabbing ahold of the knife on his right. On the way back from placing the handcloth ontop of the pot, his hand happened to brush against my chest. It had been unavoidable in such a close proximity, with me having unsuccessfully bent over him to fail at reaching the knife.
I was leaning on my knees, bending over the wooden board and curving around him to reach it on his other side. The moment wasn't very awkward to say the least, but Iggy didn't move. That irritated me. Almost experimentally, it seemed, instead of bringing his hand back to his side from placing the handcloth on the handle, he brought it back to where it had brushed against me. He touched the side of my breast that my arm usually rested beside, but more pointedly this time than when we had contacted previously. He kept his hand there, feeling up and down the side of my left breast, slowly dragging his fingers down to the rounded curve below. After the moment, he took his hand back, reaching to his other side to grab the knife that I had been looking for.
"Here ya go." He said, handing it to me politely. I took it, embarrassed. A moment passed before he started speaking again.
"Wow, Max, you're like, y'know, really, really soft, you know?" He complimented. Or I think it was a compliment. I shrugged.
"Eh, I guess?" I replied, surprisingly calm. I kind ofdidn't want to admit it, especially since Iggy was being so blasé about it, but it really shocked me what he had done just then.
Sure he had felt me before and all, but it was never so... so pointed. And I had never actually... put significance to it. They were family—I'd definitely cradled Gazzy and Nudge and Angel, and Iggy for that matter, against my breasts frequently, but I'd never even thought much of it. Fang had always been into his space and all, so cradling and comforting was never really his thing, but I'd definitely hugged him before. It was just so... electrifying, so... stirring when Iggy had felt his fingers up and down the side of my left breast. My face felt rather red as I cut the carrots haphazardly, uneven and horribly choppy. The throbbing, hollow feeling had returned to my abdomen, deep within my gut. The feeling traveled up, all the way to my shoulders. The area where Iggy had felt me tingled, making my stomach do flips. It felt like something was missing, like I needed something. The throbbing in my pelvis resonated inside of me.
Leaving the knife on the wooden board for a moment with a quiet thud, I reached down with one hand and applied pressure to my stomach, rubbing it in pointed circles below my belly button. It felt good.
I stopped. There was work to do. Ignoring the feelings, trying to leave it behind me, I went back to diligently chopping the carrots up. However, the feeling in my breasts remained, still tingling, a painful reminder of how good the rubbing had felt. Absentmindedly, as I chopped the carrots in front of me, I brought my elbows forward and my arms closer to my sides. I pushed my breasts in together. That felt good too. In fact, it felt really, really good. There was something weird going on. My breasts felt strange. They felt so sensitive, so.. tender. I could feel the cloth of my shirt rubbing against the tips, and it felt uncomfortable... it felt... strange... All I know is that it only made the feeling in the pit of my stomach more pronounced. It felt like I was aching for something. My thighs began to feel uncomfortable. It felt like something was hanging down from my crotch. I felt like I needed to use the bathroom.
Chopping the last of the carrots and pushing them to the side with the side of the knife, I told Iggy I had to relieve myself. He hummed an acknowledgment and continued dicing beets up, sweeping the hastily chopped carrots into the palm of his large hands and reaching over to toss them into the pot. I walked away from the campsite, Nudge having fallen asleep already, and the Gasman torturing a ladybug while Angel was sorting out the flowers they had picked by color. I glanced at Fang's lean back, his cheek slumped against his knee. Soft breaths escaped his mouth, he was sleeping peacefully. It'd been a long time since I had last seen him in such a state. He must've gotten really tired after teaching Angel the side swerve and then after... in the forest. I turned around and continued walking, towards the deep settling of trees.
Finally, I reached a stump of a tree that looked relatively sanitary enough to put myself near. I looked at it sadly. It must've been a pretty sturdy and strong looking tree before mother nature decided to mess with it. The stump was haphazardly broken, the tree probably having been knocked over during a storm of some sort.
I unzipped my pants and slid them down my legs as I bent down. The cool air around me felt enthralling. I didn't wear underwear—never had. While Iggy and Fang had briefs and boxers, I had never had a pair of underwear. I wasn't really sure why, but with all due respect, I didn't really understand why Fang or Iggy needed them anyhow.
It was Jeb who had done all the shopping in town back when he had been here, and he had bought them packets of pairs along with articles of clothing for us. Fang had probably grown accustomed to wearing them, as I noticed that he continued to buy pairs. Interestingly enough, the last time he had gone clothes shopping for us, he had even picked up a package of them for Gazzy despite the fact that Jeb had never dressed him in them. But neither had Fang or Iggy until they had got older—Jeb had first introduced them to them when they were about 9. I had never really wondered, nor cared much.
I knelt down, resting my elbows on my knees, squatting down against the edge of the tree stump. I looked down, my hair falling in front of my face, as I willingly let go of any tension I had in my nether-regions and watched the yellow liquid stream out from my urethra intently. I heard a slight hssh-ing noise as the stream jetted out of my crotch until only a few drops remained. I waited for the last drops to drip down onto the stained patch dirt below my vagina moistened with my urine. I waited for a second longer, and then shook my head, whipping the hair that had fallen in my face back.
I bobbed my behind up and down over a rock to splatter off any excess urine that may have still been clinging onto the curve of my behind. The squat had tired out my knees, and I found myself gently leaning on the rock, squatting on it, rather than hovering over it, using less energy. The sensation the cool smooth-edged granite had on me was incredible, a slight jut in the rock was sticking up right towards the center of me. Instinctively, I rocked my butt back and forth on it the slightest bit, perhaps just a few millimeters. Nevertheless, the feeling was sensational.. it was good... it was... startling... So I immediately got up from the rock, ending the strange feeling and removing myself from the source of it, what had traveled through me.
Having finished doing the deed, I looked around my surrounding area. I reached out with one hand, the other keeping my jeans on my knees, and grabbed a leaf, tearing it from it's mother plant. I watched my hands carefully bring it between my thighs and place it on my crotch, patting it upwards to absorb any wetness. I looked up from my crotch, bringing my gaze to look around at the trees as I continued to pat up.. but I didn't stop. Curiously, I had fallen into a rhythm, patting upwards. Slowly, I applied more pressure to it... it felt different, with a leaf. The ridged edges rubbed against me. I sort of enjoyed the way it felt... the... the friction. Suddenly, I felt like I needed to pee again, but I just had. With a sudden understanding, I realized that my lower belly button felt like it was on fire all over again. I connected these two feelings. Friction... that's what Fang had said that first night. That he enjoyed the friction on his penis. I swiftly took the leaf out from underneath me. I threw it on the ground quickly and immediately pulled my pants up, buckling them.
Putting these things out of my mind, I headed to go back to the picnic site. The smell of something good was already wafting out towards me, which was saying something, since I was a good distance away. I suddenly glanced back to look at the leaf I had discarded. It was completely saturated, but I usually didn't drip so much after urinating. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, frowning, and then shrugged it off, heading back to return to the campsite.
AUTHORS NOTE:
Ehh.. SORRY if you guys are grossed out by this chapter!! .
I'm not some horny kid whose writing a pedophilish story about some kids getting acquainted with their body parts.. I'm actually writing about adolescence (and maybe I'm just being perverse while I'm at it, but thats besides the point), so like, I feel that a chapter like this was completely necessary. =( Sorry if you guys arent happy with it though.. I don't regret writing it though. I feel like its essential to the whole concept of this story.
The easy thing about writing on ff is that .. well, personally, I don't take the time to proofread these chapters. I don't really mind if someone reviews my story and comments on a sudden tense change or spelling error or inconsistency. Its not my priority in this particular case, if you know what I mean.
Writing for english class requires technical skills and such. But writing a story.. it makes me care less about grammar and more about the piece of cloth I'm trying to weave. =)
You're Making It Worse Pt. 2 is coming next chapter. This was just sort of a.. like, a little detour. Something thats neccesary.
Comments encourage.