Date: Mon, 18 Apr 2005 21:08:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: gabriel leven <degobln@yahoo.com>
Subject: ricky ullman in love-13

Ricky Ullman In Love
Chapter 13

DISCLAIMER: Guess what! This story has absolutely nothing to do with
reality. This is a completely fictional story. The words that make the
story that follows is not intended to imply anything about Ricky Ullman's
or Max Thieriot's true sexuality in any way shape or form. I do not
personally know either celebrity or know of any details of their personal
lives. This story is completely fictional. Oh yes and if it is illegal to
read such material as a factor of age, law, or ordinance....discontinue
reading.  I know this site deals with sex in graphic details. I know that
sex is an important part of a love story...in a bold attempt to not leave
it out I will portray each sexual act as an act of love rather than as a
bathroom encounter.

Please send all feedback to degobln@yahoo.com.

***I've finished the outline for this story and I Regret to say, the end is
near! Stay tuned for the concluding chapters of this story.

Sorry it took so long to update, I've been preoccupied with flight
simulation....won't happen again ;)



     "I've had the taste for a good cheese burger for a long time," I
remarked to Max after swallowing my first bit.

     "I know the feeling," Max shot back with his trademark, calm sarcasm.

     I smiled at him, watching him eat a handful of tiny little french
fries.  He did not see me looking at him, but I'm sure he felt it.

     "What?" Max asked not even looking up at me.

     "Nothing really, I'm just looking," I replied.

     "Mm hmm," Max hummed looking at me while still chewing his food.

     "I hate to say this, but I'm wondering if this storm is ever going to
come," I said.

     "Probably not, no one really knows who I am anyway," Max added his two
cents to the thought.

     The storm we spoke of was what members of the media might poke their
heads out, to make a huge deal out of nothing.

     "Don't be so sure, how do you know it's not already here?" I asked
him.

     "Why what are you talking about?" He answered my question with a
question while carefully looking over my shoulder to the street outside the
window.

     "Not out their," I corrected him, "behind you, the man and the woman,
attractive, both blond, wearing blue jeans, he's got a white t-shirt, and
her's is creme." I quickly described our spectators.

     Slowly, carefully, and in a true nonchalant form, Max turned around to
see the "couple" I Spoke about.  His long neck stretched as he sat a moment
in observation of my suspicions.

     "Let's say you're right," he said turning back at me, "what do we do?"

     "Well here's my master plan are you ready?" I asked him.

     He did not answer but just looked into me and slightly nodded his
head.

     "Okay pay close attention, because this may seem simple but is quite
complicated," I explained to him the procedure.

     Again he just nodded his head.

     "Okay, first we finish eating as we normally do.  Then I am going to
go and pay the bill and come back to the table and leave a tip.  Then after
that I may or may not sit down, depending on whether or not you're going to
be ready for what's next.  Then after that, we are going to get up as if
we're not being followed, walk out of the restaurant, walk to my car, get
in, start it, then drive off," I explained our plan of escape.

     "Um...Ricky," Max said seeming to be in the slightest of thoughts.

     "Huh," I responded.

     At first he formed an o shape with his mouth before asking, "What is
so different about this plan then if we were just to get up and leave like
we normally would do?"

     "Nothing I guess, just thought it would help to over complicate
leaving," I answered him.

     He just laughed and looked at me and with this I felt his feet
intertwine with mine on the floor beneath the booth's table below.

     "Well at least you did not throw your self on the floor," he joked.

     "Yeah, let's not make a spectacle of this situation," I suggested with
a wink and dorky smile.

     "Oh but your spectacle's are so cute," he complemented me tightening
his grip on my feet below with his.

     "Stop, you're making me blush," I pleaded through a hushed voice as my
face began to turn redden.

     "No way, this is how I like you," he playfully argued with me locking
into my ankles and pulling on them.

     "Oh you're just trying to take advantage of me," I teased Max.

     "Is it that obvious," he asked before lifting the straw in his cup to
his lips.

     "About as obvious as the fake couple staring at us," I replied.

     With these words said Max surprised me, carelessly looked over his
shoulder nodded at the "couple" all the while he drank his cherry coke.
The man seemed at bit lost by Max's nod and was probably not expecting him
to react to his presence in such a way.  The man then whispered something
to the woman, to which she looked right at me.  On her mark I waved at her
to which she reacted by quickly turning back around.

     "I think their cover might have been blown," Max said as he stared
back at the man.

     "Yeah I would have to say so," I agreed also staring at the man.

     The bill was dropped on the table by our careless waitress, and this
was our cue to get up and leave.  As for the plan before, it went off
without a hitch, that is to say that we left the restaurant as normal
people usually leave a place.  But on leaving, the unthinkable happened.

     As an immediate reflex, opening the door set off a huge domino effect
of camera flashes, and voices chattering in the sound of questions.
Confusion set in before anything else and I did not know what was happening
right off.  I tried to block the attempts at having my picture taken but
with this many cameras flashing any single attempt on my behalf would hurt
more then help.  Hurt by means of bad picture and the appearance of someone
who seems to be in denial.

     "Max, do you have anything to say about.....Max would you like to
comment on......Max are you.....Max who was your friend in the......Max
when did you know you were....Max are you.....Max.....Max," The press all
asked the same questions at the same time.

     All the whole time we fought through them to get to my car, I felt
very afraid.  Afraid for myself, mostly Max.  Neither of us are terribly
famous people, when we are noticed it is a non- event and nothing at all to
worry about, this situation however seems to merit a security detail.  I
felt bad for Max, that though he acted his heart out in two major motion
pictures, he received a hundred times more attention for something he did
not do intentionally.  I felt bad for bringing this on him.  For asking him
to come to Chicago, for going with him to the beach, for kissing him that
day.

     I felt bad for it all, and out of guilt and love (two of the strongest
emotions I ever felt) I did my best to escort Max to my car, shielding him
from the "anything but playful" banter.  Mostly it seemed that the barrage
of questions seemed geared at finding out who the guy Max was kissing is.

     No questions answered, obviously, we made it to the car, with which we
both went in on the driver's side, him first.

     We drove off slowly at first, then I picked up the speed a bit when I
realized their was not a soul in my way.

     "That was INSANE!" Max spoke these words with intense feeling, looking
to me then flipping down the visor to fix his hair.

     "Yeah, you're telling me," I agreed with Max, fixing my own hair in
the rear view mirror.

     "Ricky, can you take me home?" Max asked.

     I was a bit disappointed to have to take Max home so early.

     "Yeah sure," I agreed to comply.

     I turned down a side street to start heading for Max's house when I
was soon corrected of my mistake in assuming anything.

     "Oh wait, I'm sorry, I should have been more clear," Max apologized,
"I meant take me to your home.

     I became completely tickled for a number of reasons.  For one, he was
coming home with me before I would have to have him home tonight, more
importantly, I thought it was so cute how he accidently referred to my
residence as "home".

     I began to think of the future again, and rested my hand on Max's
knee.  I thought about the future we might have together.  To the idea of
coming home and tripping over his shoes, and I can't hang my keys on the
hook because his are their, and I imagine my self, walking on egg shells
because through some unknown exhaustion, Max is passed out on our couch.  I
say the word "our" because it has a lot of meaning.  Are Max and I going to
spend the rest of "our" lives together?

     "RICKY WATCH OUT!" Max yelled out at an excited state, breaking my day
dream.

     I quickly slammed on the breaks and turned to the right, the whole
split-second the tires screeched and the car came to a rest in the side of
a parked car.  Both the air bags deployed in the matter of no time.  It all
happened so quick I barely had a chance to see the vagrant running away.
Figuring he was not harmed, or at least well enough to run away, I turned
to Max to inquire of his well being, but when looking at him, I completely
panicked.

     Their was red, on his hands, and dripping from his nose, on his white
shirt, and staining his flawless pale skin.  He was holding his head
upright while his hands cradled his nose.

     "Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay Max?" I asked him quickly
unbuckling my seat belt, and sitting up on my knees.


     "I'm fine," he answered me through a voice hindered by a plugged nose.

     "Are you sure? No you're not!" I continued to panic.

     "Ricky, settle down," Max demanded, being quite calm about the
situation.

     But I could not find the strength to be as calm as him.  I simply
could not do anything but melt on the inside seeing him in such distress.

     "Here, move your hands, let me see," I said to him.

     He obliged me and I took a good look at a nose that was obviously
broken.

     "Okay," I said to him, looking away.

     I had to look away real quick.  I could only see him this hurt for so
long before I could see no more.

     "Are you boy's okay?" I could hear an older woman ask from the barely
gathering crowd.

     I opened the door and said, "yeah were fine, thanks."

     Someone must of called the cops quick, either that or one was in the
area, for their was already one at my door when I opened it.

     "You boy's okay?" He asked just as the woman did right before him.

     "Yeah, he's got a broken nose," I informed the cop.

     "How old are you son?" The older cop asked Max.

     "Sixteen," he said through the same no nosed voice.

     With that information in mind he called for an ambulance on the radio
on his shoulder.

     "I don't want to go to the hospital," Max came to a conclusion upon
hearing him call in.

     The officer ignored him and seemed to be listening to whomever he was
talking to on his device.

     "Did you hear him?" I asked the cop.

     He looked at me with raised eyebrows that said "huh".

     "He said he doesn't want to go to the hospital," I repeated what Max
had said.

     "Well, whether he wants to or not, he's a minor and doesn't have a
choice," the cop informed me of being wrong.

............................................................................................................................................................


     The trip to the hospital was pointless, but I could see the logic
where it is better to be safe than sorry.  He was released to his mother at
2 a.m. and left the hospital, a bit exhausted but without consequence.

     I left him that night, went home to bed alone.  I did not get a kiss,
or a hug, or any sleep.  I did get one thing, peace of mind.  I had the
good knowledge of knowing that he was okay, safe, at home in his own bed.

     It had been a long day, and a longer night.  I was awake with insomnia
and completely stressed out, until an unknown hour only marked by the
shadow's of the moon- he called...