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With a little help from magic, Chapter Four


Hialmar

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Chapter One is here:

https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/

Chapter Three is here:

https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7668-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-three/

 

Preface

Finally. The concluding part. No growth here, but I just wanted to finish the tale about the characters.

 

With a little help from magic, Chapter Four

 

John and Aram agreed: It was a strange experience to remember two versions of Winter Break in bygone years. Both remembered the opportunity to spend a week playing hockey in the brief winter daylight, but their memories didn’t stem from the same reality. When one of them had enjoyed Winter Break, the other one had memories of dread. Winter Break was also one of the times of the year, when the difference between the garden suburb and the council flats became visible. Emma, Simon and Anderson were accustomed to go on vacation to the mountains, skiing, every year, while John, Carl, Aram and Peter never had the opportunity. Emelie disliked skiing, and didn’t go away, even if her parents could afford it. John’s family, though, had went to Thailand once, trying to escape the chilly February weather, and another year Carl’s family had managed to go on vacation in Majorca in February, for the same reason. It was usually easier to get vacation approved in summer.

It had become one of Emelie’s traditions to arrange a party for those of her friends who remained in the city during the Winter Break, and this was not an exception. The winter sky over the suburb was red and purple. Snow droves formed small mounds by the side of the streets, and the suburb was more silent than usual, since so many families were away on vacation. Her parents understood her need for privacy, and were spending the evening watching Euripides’ The Bacchae at one of the theatres.

”This will be the last time we have this party.”, she observed, sitting in an old armchair designed by the famous designer Carl Malmsten, holding a glass of wine. Her parents didn’t regard it particularly offensive to break the law in that regard.

A black-clad presence occupied one corner of the cream-coloured sofa, with three glasses of vodka before them: Her goth friends, the male one quite inebriated. Earlier, he had unsuccessfully tried to snog Emelie, and she had rejected his advances. He insisted to be called ’Moonsorrow Shadowpain’, but his actual name was Lars.

Three SHARPs sat in another corner: Carl, John and one of their mutual friends: Three bald-shaven, masculine lads made of the right stuff, perhaps looking less intimidating since they had left their shiny boots in a tangle of bootlace by the door. Aram’s younger brother sat in the same corner, having found a new hero in Carl, who had defended him against Anderson in the past. The four of them shared a few cans of beer.

Sitting in the remaining Carl Malmsten armchair, Aram was talking to Peter and four girls from class, who occupied the remaining corner of the large sofa, including two lambskin tuffets from one of the Baltic islands. Aram had filled his wine glass from Emelie’s bag-in-box, but Peter and most of the girls were drinking alcopop, with the exception of one of them, who was a member of the temperance movement. Since their tastes in music diverged so much, the sound from the loudspeakers had changed several times during the evening, but now something ambient was droning in the background.

”I can’t believe it. Time flies. What will you do when the semester end?”, one of the girls remarked.

”I will apply for art school.”, Emelie answered.

”Ooooh. Arty farty! An ordinary university education is not enough, for you?”, Carl exclaimed in friendly banter.

”I want to trail my own path.”, she answered.

”As usual”, Aram remarked, and looked at her with his warm brown eyes.

”As usual”, she answered him, with a smile.

”It isn’t a secret, that I will apply for medical studies.”, Aram said, as a matter of fact. ”And you?”

”I will probably apply for university studies later, but, during next year, I will probably serve in the armed forces. They have re-introduced conscription, if you remember.”, Carl answered him.

”I went to Selective Service, but as soon as they noticed my myopia, I was allowed to return home. I didn’t even have to make any tests.”

”They only select a few thousands each year. If you have any health issues, you are excused. I want to be one of the few and the brave.”

”You are one of the few and the brave in my book, even if they don’t send you a draft.”, John said, and gave Carl a hug.

”Thanks bro.”

”I will work at my cousin’s café during summer, and if I like it, I will probably remain at the café.”, one of the goth girls said.

”A higher education will always be useful later.”, Aram answered.

”Later, yes. That’s later.”

”I am worried.”, said Peter. ”I would like to repair cars, but haven’t found a place yet.”

”Are you sure? I thought unemployment was decreasing, especially for mechanics.”

The small talk went on, until one of the girls in Peter’s corner asked:

”And you, John? What will you do, when summer arrive?”

John still didn’t feel entirely comfortable, when all eyes turned in his direction. He was a half head taller than any of the other persons in the room, and the width of his shoulders caused him to occupy a significant share of the sitting space in his corner of the sofa. His legs were wide apart, struggling for space between Carl’s and the other skinhead’s manspreads. His burgundy braces kept his camo trousers up, and contrasted nicely against the navy blue polo.

”Actually, I have been thinking about several alternatives. Some of the mates at the gym have asked me to work as a temp there during summer, and they say they would pay 50% of the fee if I take a PT education, but on the other hand, I think I would make a difference, by becoming an officer in the Amphibious Corps.”

The others reacted in different ways. Two of the girls in Peter’s corner cheered enthusiastically. Aram’s younger brother watched him admiringly, and could no longer decide who was the coolest kid in the room anymore. Peter bowed over the table in a way endangering the glasses, and grabbed his hand approvingly with a drunken smile. Carl looked unusually uncomfortable, and crossed his legs in an unfamiliar way. The drunken Moonsorrow Shadowpain started a long incoherent rant about violence, imperialism and capitalism, but was cut off by Carl, who remarked:

”And what have YOU done to make the world better?”

While the rest of the company moved in the direction of the kitchen or the bookshelves, the argument between Carl and Moonsorrow became more heated. The goth was physically swaying to-and-fro because of his vodka, but the beer hadn’t affected Carl to the same degree. Moonsorrow  tried to punch him, but Carl avoided the attack, and the goth tumbled with his face into the sofa. Carl watched him:

”I don’t fight men who are more pissed than myself. There’s no honour in it.”

Then he turned around, heading in the direction of the bathroom, but the incoherent Moonsorrow didn’t give up. Struggling to get up, he staggered after Carl, exclaiming incoherent noises, trying to grab Carl’s neck with the inside of his elbow, which was a very bad idea, as it turned out. Carl avoided the grip, turned around, grabbed his opponent’s Adam’s apple, and pressed him to the wall. A small  watercolour painting, depicting a boat, fell to the floor. 

”Now. You. Keep. Calm.”, Carl said, staring angrily into his opponent’s eyes.

He released his grip. The goth sunk to the floor, less because of Carl’s grip, than because of drunkenness.

”Idiots!”, Carl exclaimed, and entered the bathroom. Those who stood outside couldn’t avoid to hear the loud sound of pissing coming from the loo, but most of the guest were occupied in the kitchen.

When Carl returned from the bathroom, his skinhead mate and one of the goth girls had decided to help the intoxicated Moonsorrow home to his parents, and two of the other girls had left. John awaited him outside the loo. 

”He behaved like an idiot, but he was drunk, and I am able to defend myself.”

”I know, but I… I felt insulted. What has HE done to counter racism? What has HE done to raise money for human rights associations? What has HE done to debate injustice in society? And his pacifist tosh, when we have a dangerous unpredictable neighbour across the sea…”

John towered over him, and kissed him on his forehead. A hug. This time it was more than brotherly. Testosterone flowed in Carl’s veins and in John’s. Comforting presence. Mutual muscular protectiveness… Camo-clad bulges pressing towards each other…

”You are cute when you are angry. Do you know that?”, John whispered in his ear.

Carl emitted a low yelp in John’s ear. Emelie returned from the kitchen, noticed them, but didn’t say anything. Then her phone rang. A few words. A worried look in her face. She hang up. She thought for a few seconds. Then she called the attention of every remaining guest.

”It was Emma.”

”I thought she was skiing with Anderson?”

”Don’t interrupt. She is on her way home. They have quarrelled. She hasn’t told her parents, for some reason. She is on her way here.”

An hour went by. Some of them tried to sober up by drinking coffee or energy drinks. Emelie and Peter competed in the kitchen for the right to make Emma a sandwich. Then, the doorbell rang.

Emma, who usually never left home without using some perfume, was dressed in synthetic trousers, suitable for skiing, and a quilted and down-stuffed nylon jacket smelling of sweat and melted snow. Her makeup had melted in an unflattering way, because of tears. Aram, John and Aram’s brother wanted politely to give Emma some breathing-space and privacy, but the other guests at Emelie’s party preferred to express their concern by surrounding Emma.

It was Emelie’s commanding presence, who caused the crowd in the hallway to part, and led Emma into the bathroom. When they returned outside, Peter and one of the girls were ready with a sandwich on a plate and a mug of hot coffee. Emma had a hickup, but her face looked refreshed  without any makeup. This way, however, her black eye was even more obvious.

”I will kill him! I will kill the fucking wanker!”, Carl shouted, and, by the look of his face, it seemed like Peter was willing to assist Carl in the project, or even race to come first.

Emelie glanced in the direction of the five remaining lads, raised an eyebrow, and said:

”Now. You. Keep. Calm.”

It had the desired effect. The young men sat down in the sofa, while Emelie and the other two young women helped Emma and her mug of coffee upstairs.

”What do we do now? Just sitting here?”

”You know she was right. It doesn’t make Emma feel better if you two prepare an ambush outside Anderson’s door when he arrive home.”

”But we must do something.”

”Give Emma and the girls some time, upstairs. They need to talk. We would probably interrupt.”

”But we must do something.”

”Both of you have said that a couple of times, now. Take a couple of deep breaths and calm down.”

”More coffee?”

”I don’t drink coffee. I drink this.” Aram’s brother dangled a can of energy drink before them.

”Same here.”, Peter said.

”I prefer coffee. Energy drinks would destroy my workout results.”

John returned with the coffee kettle of glass and filled Aram’s, Carl’s and his own mugs, and put the glass kettle down on a heatproof coaster.

”I am as upset as you, but the correct procedure is to let the police know. Anderson is 18 now, and he will become 19 years old in summer. He is responsible for his actions. The situation will not improve by any of us behaving like an idiot.”

They heard the sound of a key in the key-hole, and the next second, Emelie’s parents returned from the theatre, dressed in a comparatively posh way. Emelie’s Dad peeked around the corner into the sitting room.

”Calm and silent here. What is wrong with teenagers today? Back in 1980 we knew how to party. Has some of you already left? You are welcome to stay as late as you want, but where is Emelie?”

”Something sad has happened, Mr. W. Emelie and the other girls are upstairs with Emma.”

”I thought Emma was away skiing the entire week?”, Emelie’s Mum interjected.

”And call me Ola.”, Emelie’s father added.

”You better speak with her, yourself, but I believe you’d better give them some time. Do you need the kettle?”

”No. Not this late. I sleep badly if I drink coffee after dinner, but thank you for your concern. I will drink some tea before sleep.”

”If there is anything left, I would like a cup of coffee.”, said Emelies Dad, and filled a small cup. His wife had disappeared upstairs, and a faint sound of an electric tea kettle was heard from the kitchen. He sat down in one of the Malmsten-armchairs, observed the serious faces of the young men, and said:

”Glad to see, that skinheads and Arabs are able to party together, but I would be more happy if some of you lads left that style behind.”

Carl and Aram’s brother sighed in unison. Aram looked like someone had told him a joke.

”What did I say?”, Emelie’s Dad exclaimed in a soft voice, his eyebrows raised in a polite way.

”Sorry, Ola. We hear some of this all the time.”, Aram answered. ”Syriacs are not Arabs. We lived in Turkey, Syria and Iraq long before the Arabs arrived, and we are descendants of the first Christians. And when it comes to skinheads: Our friends here are anti-racists. I’ve heard from my mother, that most skins in your youth were racists…”

”At least the visible ones.”, Carl interjected.

”At least the visible ones.”, Aram continued, ”but skinhead sub-culture originally grew from an interest in Jamaican music. Oi! punk rock was added in the seventies. There has been a conflict between racist and anti-racist skins since the eighties, and some try to avoid politics entirely. There is nothing wrong with our friends here.”

”I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about confusing Syriacs and Arabs. Didn’t read that in school.”

He paused. It was obvious he tried to say something polite.

”Sometimes I am worried that you youngsters don’t get enough exercise, sitting with playstation and computer games all the time, but when I see you, it seems like you all exercise a lot, so I might be wrong.”

”Exercise is quite popular today.”

Emelie’s Dad was obviously a nice man, but his attempts to small-talk became increasingly strained, and the young men’s thought went to Emma and the other girls upstairs. It was a relief when Emelie’s Mom returned with Emma and all the other young women, who returned to their seats in th sofa.

”Ola. Emma’s boyfriend has abused her, but she prefer to sleep here tonight. I will call her parents.” She disappered to the telephone in the kitchen.

John wasn’t sure to which extent the presence of her friends helped Emma to cope with the situation, but he tried to be comforting. Peter showed an unexpected tenderness, and allowed Emma to lean her head against his shoulder. Aram and Emelie sat down in the same corner, with serious facial expressions. Aram’s brother ended up in the same corner as the two remaining girls, while John and Carl sat together. They talked for hours.

- - - 

The tinkling sound of the bell made Madame Cremorna aware of the presence of a customer. It was that goth girl, again. Madame Cremorna returned to the transparent counter desk.

”And how may I help you?”

”Do you have anything to punish a bad person?”

”This sounds serious. Do you want a cup of tea?”

After a brief hesitation, Emelie accepted, and they sat down around a small table. They were talking a long time, and when Emelie returned from the botanica, she brought a paperbag with a powder with her. Madame Cremorna had called it ’a minor working’.

- - - 

Emma was of the opinion that ’she could change him’, and continued her relationship with Anderson, and refused to report him to the police, despit what her parents told her. 

Emelie had got her opportunity a few days later. She had refused to invite Anderson since the Winter Break, but changed her mind, and allowed Emma to bring Anderson with her to Emelie’s family’s house a Saturday afternoon, one week before Easter. Emelie’s parents had been conveniently away, buying new gardening equipment. Emma and Anderson had stayed fo a few cups of coffee and cinnamon buns, but the awkward strain between Emelie and Anderson had caused them to leave earlier, than when Emma visited on her own. Emelie had been able to put small amounts of Madame Cremorna’s powder in Anderson’s trainers.

Emelie looked out through the window. Lemon-coloured sunshine filled the garden, but there were no leaves on the bushes yet. The grass was yellow and lifeless. Under the shadows of treetrunks, spots of dirty snow still covered the lawn. In a sunny spot of the lawn, white snowdrips were growing, their small leaves the only sight of green in the garden. She hadn’t heard their car, but her parents must have returned: Her Dad pushed a wheelbarrow with a few heavy sacks of something to the garden shed. She could hear her mother enter the house.

”We were not the only ones, who had got the idea to buy things for the garden. What queues!”

The doorbell rang.

It was three girls and a boy in primary school age. They were all dressed up as easter witches, and brought a plastic bag to collect sweets.

”Happy Easter!”, they exclaimed.

”Aren’t you cute, all of you?”, Emelie’s mother answered. ”Happy Easter! I shall see if we have something for you.”

She returned with two bags of multicoloured egg-shaped sweets, and put them in the children’s bag. After the children had left, Mom disappeared to the kitchen, beginning to cook the lamb for dinner.

- - -

It was two weeks later. Easter Break had come and gone. The familiar sound of rushing steps and lockers. John and Aram agreed, that it was a relief, that Anderson wasn’t able to bully anyone, but they couldn’t avoid to feel pity when they saw him with his bandaged foot sitting in a wheelchair. Skiing accident. Anderson’s family could afford two vacations during skiing season, and Anderson didn’t think twice about bragging about the fact, but it hadn’t turned out well this time.

Chemistry class in the beginning of the day. Mr. Gustavson brought good news.

”I wouldn’t worry for your chemistry grades, Aram. And that’s true for you, John, as well. Good work.”

The hours of morning lectures were no longer dark. Honey-coloured daylight flooded into the room, and only a few gravel-mixed snow heaps were scattered over the schoolyard. They had noticed buds in the trees on their way in, and the air was mild.

”You do what?”

They had joined each other at lunch break, and sat in the school cafeteria. Emma had just told them all, that she was breaking up with Anderson. No one seemed to disapprove. Peter patted her on her shoulder, and Emelie gave her a hug.

”How did you spend Easter?”

Emelie was first to answer:

”Parents spent time in the garden. We had some relatives over. Haven’t seen Grandfather since Christmas.”

She glanced at Aram.

”No. I will tell them.”, he said, as answering a silent question. ”Emelie and I are an item now. Just so you’ll know.”

Cheerful voices. Congratulations. The buzz of the cafeteria in the background. Spring daylight through the windows.

”And I went to St. James’ with the family. And you?”

”Grandmother was over. I followed them to Bach’s St. John’s Passion in Holy Trinity on Good Friday, but I spent the rest of the weekend with Carl.”

”Punk concerts on Easter Eve and Easter Day. Good bands.”

”Any of you joining me to the gym tonight?”, John asked.

”You know it.”, Carl answered, and Peter also gave his assurances.

”No, I will spend time with Emelie, tonight.”, Aram answered.

 

- - -

 

John felt full of energy. Bench press: 200 kilogrammes. Dumbbell press: 70 kilogrammes in each hand. Peter couldn't hide how impressed he was. Carl expressed his appreciation later, in another way.

They were in John's room again. The night sky outside the window was dark blue in a way it never is the rest of the year.

Carl shivered in anticipation, and removed his polo shirt. His braces hang from his jeans. He hadn't removed his boots this time. They had both found, that they liked to make out with their boots on. John stood before him, his torso uncovered, and swole from the workout. John smiled confidently while he watched his shorter friend in his eyes. He did a double biceps. 

"Yeah. Watch this."

And he did a crab, flexing his vein-covered pecs.

Carl arose and took a few steps closer to John, and put his hands on John's pecs. John flexed his abs, and Carl eagerly let his fingers explore the hardness and power of John's abdomen. Carl yelped, and kissed John's biceps. John picked Carl up, and curled him playfully a few times. John could see the throbbing bulge in Carl's trousers, and lifted Carl higher, burying his face against the denim fabric of Carl's crotch. Carl moaned. John laid Carl down in his bed, and lowered himself on him. Carl's breathing increased, and the moaning sounds returned. 

"Fuck, mate. If you continue like this, I will blow before the rodgering even begins! It's like fucking the bloody Terminator!"


Epilogue

John found it hard to believe, that it was already ten years ago. He and Carl were back in their native city over the weekend, to attend the tenth anniversary since they left school, and they were now 29 years old.

It hadn’t been that bad. It turned out, that Aram was a practicing physician now, and Emelie had got a job at an art gallery, but their relationship hadn’t last. They were still good friends, though, and had travelled together to Florence and Venice last year. 

Emma had married Peter, and they had already three small children. Emma worked as a receptionist, and Peter had succeeded in working with cars. They had enthusiastically told about gatherings for fans of old cars, and they attened several such gatherings annually.

There was no sight of Anderson, but no one missed him.

”I would never had guessed that you were gay. Real men like you? Never. I’m cool with it. Thank you for not hitting at me at school, though.”

It was Peter who commented in his usual blunt way. John and Carl had continued their relationship, and had a flat in another city, where one of the units of the amphibious corps were located. John worked in the marine, and Carl had, unexpectedly, become a PT, and worked at a gym.

”I read about your wins in bodybuilding competitions, John. That’s awesome.” It was Peter who continued to talk.

”I have another competition in December, Peter. Why don’t you come and watch?”

After all, the school reunion had turned out well. He was now walking with Carl at his side in the old quarters of the city, trying to find a botanica Aram had mentioned. The two broad-shouldered buzzcut men walked side by side in the cobblestone alley. John could feel the bodyheat of Carl, and put his arm on his shoulder. In the warm summer weather none of them needed a jacket, and they were both dressed in snug polo shirts, which allowed them to show off their body shapes. Mighty pecs stretched the polo fabric to its limits. The tight shirts hinted at their defined abs.

Houses plastered in lavender, yellow and dove-blue. Dentists, former bicycle repair shops. No traces of any bookshop. She must have left. It was all so long ago. It seemed like a dream. Was it a dream?
 

Edited by Hialmar
grammar, language, added prefix
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Very good and descriptive story.  It is probably one of the first stories I have read where the story line was more about friends, traditions, and growing up. Not all about muscle growth, lust, and sex.   Very mature. Helps the imagination.  Thank you!

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  • 3 years later...
5 minutes ago, Bigger said:

Amazing story!

I’m glad you liked it. At the time I wrote it, several years ago, I wanted to tell a story in a decidedly Scandinavian setting, not in a pseudo-American setting. Now looking back, I would have picked slightly different choices of words in a few  places, but otherwise the story turned out the way I wished.

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