Date: Tue, 30 Nov 2010 23:52:05 +1300
From: Shawn Kale <shawnkale@live.com>
Subject: Ground Control ~ Part Two

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DISCLAIMER: Predictably, this story at some point will contain graphic
literary descriptions of sexual acts between consenting persons. Some
content may not be suitable for minors. This is a work of fiction,
similarity of characters to real people is purely accidental. The author
'Shawn Kale' retains the title to the work and grants 'Nifty Archive' "a
non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable
license to display the work" Comments and suggestions can be directed to
the author via email at: shawnkale@live.com All 'true' brands included in
this story are the trademark and property of their respective owners I do
not assert ownership of such and seek no commercial gain from their
use. All lyrics are the creation of the artist David Bowie unless cited as
original in the context of the story. Again... I do not assert any
ownership or commercial usage of any material not my own.
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Firstly, sincere apologies for the extended delay in this posting. I had
allowed it to stagnate and it's taken some motivation to get re-writing.
Only a short one this time around, letting you know that there will be more
to come.

GROUND CONTROL

By Shawn Kale

PART 2 'Absolute Beginners'


      There was a line of cars at the drive through, friday nights were
always popular at the numerous fast food restaurants in the city, my car
idled in the middle of the queue so even if we did want to turn around, we
were boxed in and couldn't. It took about half an hour to reach the
ordering station, Sam remained silent, exiting the car to remove his hefty
outer layers and continuing to shiver as he warmed up.

"Any plans for the weekend then?"

"No, I don't really go out much anyway. I was going to just spend it at
home reading or playing video games"

"That's no way to spend the weekend! We should have our jam session if
you're still interested?"

We arrived at the bollard display and I placed our order, plenty of french
fries and hamburgers. We waited another ten minutes before arriving at the
pay window and another five before receiving our meal.

"Do you mind if we go and grab some hot coffee or something before we eat?
I need some caffeine before I flake out and I don't trust the fast food
version"

He agreed and I dashed in to a coffee bar, emerging a few minutes later
with two tall cardboard cups of milky goodness, latte for me and hot
chocolate for him. We drove further into the city and over the river
crossing into one of the more fashionable suburbs, I pulled up to a garage
door and pressed a button on the remote strapped to my overhead visor, the
door opened and we descended into the underground car park. The solid
concrete structure acted like a fridge and Sam followed me, huddled inside
his coat, across the sparsely occupied deck to a sliding glass door, he
almost smacked into it but I managed to shove my arm in front before he
knocked himself out.

"Woah there, I have to prove I'm me first before we can get in"

I touched my wallet to a red lit sensor beside the door, inside a plain
plastic card, an integrated circuit chip powered up and transmitted it's
code before powering down again, the red light flashed green and the
sliding door opened into an amber wood lined foyer. I motioned to an
elevator and once we had stepped in, provided my card for the sensor to
unlock its functions. Sam remained silent as I punched in my floor number
and the sleek stainless steel and wood paneled lift hissed quietly upwards,
our arrival punctuated by a computerised voice announcing that the lift was
now stopping

"This is really flash Tom, I haven't ever been in a building with a talking
elevator before"

"Well don't give her too much credit, she's still a bitch to me at least
once a month"

That elicited another smile, I presented my card for the final time and the
doors opened to my apartment. We emerged into a more than welcome warm
climate and I at once began to shed layers of clothing and urged Sam to do
the same. It was obvious he was a little bewildered so I let him adjust to
the new space while I tipped the copious amounts of still hot french fries
into a communal bowl and arranged the burgers on a plate, sitting both,
along with mayonnaise, tomato sauce and mustard onto the dining table in
the next room.

"Through here Sam, leave your coat and stuff by the door"

"This place is amazing, do you live here by yourself?"

"No, it's my parents' place really but they're off doing something
interesting, somewhere interesting no doubt"

He joined me in the kitchen dining room where the nuclear family would
ideally eat breakfast before going their separate ways for the day, meeting
up again for dinner in the formal dining room to discuss their days and
smile with familial bliss. I can't recall the last time I sat down to
breakfast with my parents... I can't recall the last time I sat down here
to have a real breakfast for that matter.

"Mayonnaise?"

"Umm... I think I'll pass on that one and stick to the traditional tomato"

"Well Sam, it depends on where you're taking the tradition in Holland for
example..."

I shot him a wink and he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, no culinary
anthropology lecture today thank you very much. I spooned out a dollop of
mayo on to my own plate despite his misgivings. We ate in silence.

"So what do your parents do?"

Sam was looking up at a garish painting hanging above the table, he had a
small patch of sauce at the corner of his perfect lips and I hesitated in
my answer, mesmerised by the little red blemish on the masterpiece.

"Oh, um Dad is in the music industry and Mum is in film... But she fancies
herself an art collector"

I motioned to the paintings that lined the walls, and the sculptures tucked
here and there as if to reinforce the amateur nature of her current
obsession, including one particularly heavy brass piece that had taken out
a window on its way into the apartment.

"I have no idea why she needs to fill up the space in here with art, she's
never home to enjoy it and Dad just takes it down and hides it when he's
home to keep the apartment clear and livable"

"I wasn't gonna say anything... but"

"Please... I think most of it is horrid, seriously, why would you want a
stylised half woman half pig nude plastered across the wall over your
dinner table?"

He looked at the monstrosity that I had pointed out, turned his head
slightly this way and that, covered his left eye, then his right, and
started to laugh

"Oh... I see it now, that has to be the most disturbing thing I have ever
seen, but not seen"

"True, everyone says 'what a charming landscape, France is it?' "

"You're kidding... aren't you?"

"Not at all, and you have a little... right there on... that's it"

He wiped away the sauce and looked away embarrassed, once again my habit of
working irrelevant and awkward segues into conversation had stalled a
perfectly good, and possibly productive talk with a beautiful young
man... Damn it.

"Sorry, that was a little awkward wasn't it?"

I got up from my chair and began to collect the plates and newspaper from
the table, he rose too and helped by capping the condiments and gathering
them together, following me into the kitchen.

"Thanks for that, and thanks for an awesome concert tonight... or should I
say last night"

I looked at my watch and realised that it had gone midnight some time ago,
we had effortlessly talked our way through more than an hour before my
clumsy remark had broken the trance

"Wow, I had no idea it was so late, would you like me to drop you off at
home? or you can stay in one of the guest rooms if there's nothing keeping
you?"

He looked at me, then his watch, biting his lip. I could imagine the cogs
and wheels turning in his head 'go home... or stay a night in a complete
stranger's home?'

"I don't want to put you out, the busses have probably stopped running and
it's a fair way out to my suburb... If you don't mind, I can crash on a
couch even"

"Or not..."

He looked down, and the idea that he would have to walk home in the cold
and dark night crossed his face... quickly Tom, don't lose this again

"I simply cannot allow any guest of mine to sleep on a hard couch while a
perfectly good, and frankly underused bed sits empty upstairs"

The look of terror turned to amusement as it dawned on him that I had only
been applying my own brand of, however dry, humour to the situation

"You don't have to do that, but thanks"

`No, Sam... Thank YOU, thank you for keeping me company and providing my
fertile imagination with more than enough raw material to keep me
fantasising for some time to come' I thought.

"You're welcome, I have to keep my fans happy after all don't I?"

"Oh, you're certainly doing that, where's the washroom by the way?"

He had winked at the first part of that comment, which took me by
surprise. I rationalised that he was just being friendly, Lord knows I'd
flirted like that with straight boys before. I paused briefly before
pointing out the direction to the guest bathroom. I slid the plates and
dishes into the washer and discarded the wrappers while he was gone. When
Sam returned, I directed him upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms and,
switching off the light as I went, we made our way up

"I can drop you at home anytime, if I'm not awake, feel free to come in and
throw something at me. Help yourself to breakfast, towels are in the
cupboard under the basin"

I watched him from my bedroom door as he eased his way into the guest room,
sure that I would dream of him tonight... although in what capacity, I had
yet to discover.

"Thanks Tom, sweet dreams"

Sweet dreams indeed.

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As usual, thank you for reading. Part three is in the works already and
hopefully brings you more of what you want and need :)

All feedback can be directed to: shawnkale@live.com
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