Chapter 15

"So, why don't you like exercising with the other kids at the hospital?" Jim asked.

He was sitting perched on the edge of the bathtub closely watching Lasse remove his clothing.

"It makes me sad to see them. They all have some sort of handicap or just went through surgery. Like that one kid who wore pyjamas and housecoat."

"I remember him, he sat in a wheelchair when they brought him in. That's the one you mean?"

"Uh-huh. He reminded me of… of what happened to me."

"Didn't you see how happy he was when he sat on the bike?"

"He was happy?" Lasse asked surprised and pulled his underpants down. Five seconds later, he stood fully naked in front of Jim, his clothes strewn on the tiled bathroom floor in between the two.

"Yeah. He smiled big time after the first two or three revolutions of the pedals."

"Oh. I didn't see that. Move over so I can get in. You can turn off the water too, I don't need the tub to be completely full to bathe."

Jim moved out of the way and Lasse got into the bathtub. Before he had a chance to sit, Jim stopped him. Instead of turning off the faucet, he pulled the lever that activated the handheld sprayer.

"Stay like that for now, please. I've been dying for a chance to wash you and I'm not going to let this one slip past me."

Lasse grinned over his shoulder at Jim. He found it funny that Jim was so captivated by his body. A body that only had been letting him down time and time again when he tried to push it to do things a normal boy could do. At least until he had met Jim.

Even then it let me down. I couldn't run from him when I wanted to, Lasse thought, But, I'm glad my heart forced me to stop. Jim's turned out to be pretty fucking awesome!

He stood patiently in the bathtub, the warm water in it only reached up to around the middle of his lower legs, and allowed Jim to gently spray him down. He looked away from his twenty-two years older friend and fully enjoyed the warm spray of water hitting his sore shoulders.

"Lift your arms for me," He heard Jim say and he did. The man sprayed his armpits one at a time and Lasse heard the water being turned off, "Now it's time for the real fun to begin."

Jim snapped open the large bottle of shower gel, he found sitting on the floor next to the bathtub, and squeezed a liberal amount of it into his hand. He rubbed his hands together, worked up a lather and distributed it evenly in both palms.

Lasse was still standing with his hands raised, as if he had been taken prisoner, and didn't let them fall until he felt Jim's hands on his neck. He gasped from surprise then moaned out in a bit of pain when Jim began massaging his shoulders. It was a proper massage, not simply washing. At first it was painful to Lasse and he was about to ask Jim to stop and just wash him when the sensation changed from pain to feeling quite nice.

"Well done," He heard Jim say in a low voice, "Try to relax even more."

"If I do that I'll crash into the tub."

"Just keep your shoulders relaxed."

Jim heard Lasse's sweet meowing over the sounds from the lather he used as a massage oil. He had massaged his girlfriends in the past and learned how to do it skilfully, without actually studying how to, and Lasse now reaped the fruits of many years of Jim experimenting on how to give the best massage.

His muscles are still quite tense. I'll have to give him a proper massage soon. When I start moving stuff from storage into the house, the massage table will be one of the first items to go in.

Jim let his hands wander down the outside length of Lasse's right arm, switched from massaging to merely washing the boy. His hands traversed back up on the inside and reached into the armpit resulting in a short outburst of laughter. He quickly finished lathering up the hairless pit and went for the other arm. When Lasse had giggled once more and his left armpit was as sudsy and slippery as his right, Jim let the palms of his hands slide slowly down from the young boy's nape to the small of his back.

He bypassed the buttocks, saving the best for last, and went for Lasse's left calf next. Again, he used both hands to wash and massage his way upwards the skinny, almost bony, leg until his right index finger nudged up against the shrivelled pouch containing Lasse's nuts. The boy had shown him a great deal of faith and trust by willingly, automatically and as if it was only naturally, sliding his feet further apart, in turn giving him unhindered access to the silky smooth skin in-between his legs.

With a sigh from Lasse, Jim pushed his right hand further up and brushed against the side of the boy's pouch until he couldn't push it any further. He repeated the action on the right hand leg, this time letting his thumb slide up to and across Lasse's butthole. Jim didn't try to push his thumb into the virgin bum, but he made darned sure Lasse could feel it as it slid across the entrance to it.

"Sheesh!" Lasse stated.

"Don't tell me, it's another bad touch?"

"Nugh, not that, I thought you'd push your finger in my bum. It felt like you were trying to make it go in."

"I am going to push stuff into your bum, and so much more than just my finger, but not today."

"But only if I want you to, right?"

"No, Lasse. I'm not going to ask you if I can do something to you from now on. If you really want to be my boyfriend, then that's something you'll just have to accept. I won't ever harm you, but I want full access and exclusive rights to your body. Do you know what that means?"

"You want to stick your huge prick in my bum?"

"Yes, that and other things, possibly. And I want to be the only one who gets to play with your body for as long as we're boyfriends."

A full minute passed by, with neither man nor boy talking, while Lasse considered his options. Jim kept his thumb firmly pushed against the pliant little bum hole and ran it in small circles around it. The strange sensations from his bum made Lasse's penis stick out in front of him.

Jim said he won't hurt me and it's not like anyone else would want to be my friend and play with me like that anyway, he finally concluded.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Do you understand what you're agreeing to?"

"Yeah," Lasse took a deep breath and shuddered when Jim suddenly increased the pressure on his bum hole, "You get to do what you want to do to me as long as it won't hurt me and I can't do it with anyone else. It's okay. But you can't ever tell anyone about it."

"I won't," Jim said lovingly and moved his hands from the young boy's bum, "It's our secret. Keep your legs spread for me and don't move while I wash your front."

The man reached around his boy, for that was what Lasse had agreed to be and started washing him from his neck down. He played with the small nipples, remembering how Lasse liked it best, and tweaked them in between his fingers. When both nipples stood as firm as the little penis, he abandoned them, and used the tip of his finger to trace the scar downwards towards the boy's navel. He lingered there for a short time, traced the slightly protruding rounded piece of flesh that had once been the life-giving connection between boy and his mother.

Lasse shuddered involuntarily when he felt Jim's hands cup his hips and slide forwards. And yet again, when the man's finger tips brushed against his penis. He looked down and watched as the fingers slid the short distance from his pubic mound to the very tip of his penis. Jim caught the still stretchy foreskin in between two fingers and tugged it outwards, increasing the length of Lasse's penis by a quarter, before he let go of it.

Though Lasse had been told not to move, he couldn't help himself and spread his legs even further apart, to the point where his feet almost slipped at the bottom of the bathtub, when Jim's fingers crept in between his legs once more. This time it was from the front and his little pouch, with the two small nuggets in it, was what Jim was interested in. Lasse more felt than saw Jim grasp his pouch, trapped the small nuts inside and with a milking motion forced them further away from his body.

Jim let go of the pouch and repositioned his hands once more. He used the palm of his left hand to gently massage Lasse's nuts up against his body while he grabbed hold of the young boy's penis with his right hand. He massaged the glans through the foreskin using three of his fingers and when he heard Lasse's meowing-like moans start anew, he increased the pressure on both glans and nuts.

Lasse felt the pressure on his nuts increase to the point where it would've hurt him, had it been the only thing being done to his private parts. What Jim did to his penis overpowered the slight discomfort, however. Lasse hadn't fiddled with his penis quite like Jim did. He had tugged on it, yes, stretched the foreskin as far as it would go, like Jim had just done, but he hadn't squeezed his penis, not like Jim was doing. The sensation it generated was unknown, yet thrilling.

The man kept massaging the boy's private parts, it was easier to roll the little penis in-between his fingers than stroking it up and down and he soon realized it was more than enough to make sure Lasse would climax from it. The boy panted for air, still more rapidly the further he was brought towards his first ever orgasm. The meowing turned into low wails and gasps and his knees flexed so much, Jim was worried they'd collapse before Lasse would experience what his penis was really meant for.

Lasse was worried too, his penis felt as if it would break off and he was afraid Jim would never stop. Amidst the sensations from his penis, his nuts were trying to raise his attention to the maltreatment they were undergoing. Just when he thought his heart would betray him yet again, something new happened. He had to open his eyes, it felt like he was peeing and he didn't want to bathe in water dirtied by his pee. To his wonder, there was no pee coming out of his penis.

"Jim!" He cried out in alarm, when the sensations in his body became too much to withstand.

"Just a little more, Lasse. Let it happen."

For a short moment, it seemed to Lasse like the world had stopped, or at least slowed to a crawl. Jim's fingers were still but a blur on his penis, the ever increasing pressure on his nuts had turned painful and something was happening deep inside of his body. He couldn't quite figure out where it stemmed from, some place low in his stomach, but it didn't matter.

Whatever's happening, it had better end soon, Lasse thought.

"Ooh, uhh, ooh," Lasse moaned and when that didn't seem adequate, he screamed, "AAAAH!"

Lasse's knees gave way under him and he fell. Fortunately the water broke his fall and his bottom gently struck home on the bottom of the bathtub. He slumped forwards, while his heart pumped furiously inside his chest.

"Do you need your spray?" Jim asked worriedly, both of having witnessed the powerful orgasm Lasse had went through and in no less degree of not knowing where the nitro spray was, in case he needed it.

"No," Lasse shook his head slowly, "I'll be fine. I think. What did you do to me?"

"Hot damn, boy. You are a squealer if I've ever met one."

"What?" Lasse asked confusedly

"When you came, you nearly ruined my hearing. You just had an orgasm, my sweet darling boy."

"Was that what it was? I thought I was going to die!"

"No, no, no. It was just an orgasm. Though, it seemed like one hell of an orgasm."

"I feel all tired now. More than when I was after exercising."

"It'll pass quickly. Lie down on your back and relax for now," Jim said and quickly assessed the damages caused by Lasse's quick descend into the tub. The front of his trousers were wet from the groin all the way down to his ankles, "I'll be right back. Don't drown while I'm away, okay?"

"I'm not so little I can't bathe on my own, Jim."

"Good," Jim said and hurried towards the utility room where he had seen a tumble drier the night before. Quickly he shed his trousers, and upon seeing the state of his boxer shorts, he shed those too. He put both of them into the drier and started it. Half-naked he went back to the bathroom.

"Sit up a little. I'm getting in with you," He told Lasse and quickly took off his shirt and socks.

***

"Did you like it?" Jim asked while he shampooed the boy leaning back up against his chest.

"Uh-huh."

"So you won't object to me doing it again some other time?"

"No. Only, do you have to squeeze my nuts so hard? They're all sore now."

"Sorry, it's all part of the experience. You didn't seem to mind it when I tossed you off."

"I didn't want you to tell you, in case you'd stop what you did to my peener."

"Oh, I wouldn't have."

"Did I reach level 3 now?"

"You did. You passed level 2 with flying colours."

"What do I have to do to get to level 4?"

"Slow down. We can't rush through the levels like that."

"No, but seriously, what will I have to do?"

"You'll have to do what I just did to you. Only you'll have to do it to mine."

"Now?"

"No. Not now."

"When?"

"When I tell you to."

"That's not fair."

"Alright. If you really want to reach level 4 so soon, then go ahead."

Chapter 16

"Is this okay? Am I doing it right?"

"Here, let me show you how to do it. Mine is longer than yours so you can stroke it instead of only working the head."

Jim sat on the edge of the tub again, this time at the end of it, with Lasse kneeling in between his outspread knees. He grasped his fat prick with his right hand and began a slow up and down stroke. On each downwards stroke, he skinned back part of the foreskin and moved it right back over his glans on the up-stroke.

"Like this," he explained.

"Let me try it again now."

"Ooh," Jim moaned when Lasse began stroking his prick just the way he liked it the most.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, you're doing fine. It feels really nice. You're far better at wanking than a woman more than double your age."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. Do it a little faster, please. Yes, just like that."

Lasse continued stroking the fat and long prick of his best friend. He was mesmerized by the look and feel of it, all warm and glistening at the end, whenever he moved the foreskin back. It was like Jim was drippling pee, ever so slowly.

"Are you peeing?" He asked curiously.

"No. What you see is pre-cum. It's a lubrication, to make things easier."

"Oh. What kind of things?"

"Well, wanking, like you're doing now and to make it easier to penetrate into someone."

"Oh," Lasse said and refused to dwell on the penetration part. He already knew, and had accepted, the humongous prick would at some point in time penetrate his little bum hole. It still seemed impossible for something like that to happen without it hurting a lot in the process, but Jim had promised he wouldn't ever hurt him.

"Supposedly, it also tastes rather nice."

"Yuck!"

"You're going to taste it sooner or later, my boy. Stop for a second, I want to try something."

Lasse let go of Jim's prick and watched the man pull his foreskin back and squeezed a quite large dollop of the clear fluid onto the tip of his finger. He watched the fingertip approach his lips and he looked bug-eyed at it. The nearer it got to his mouth, the more his eyes crossed to keep focus on the glistening fingertip.

"Open up."

Lasse shook his head. It might not be pee on Jim's finger, but it had come out from the same place. He watched in astonishment when Jim moved his finger to his own mouth and licked at it.

"Hmm, it's not so bad, really. It's a bit salty, that's all. Why don't you try it and tell me what you think of it?"

Lasse scrutinized Jim's face to see if the man was trying to trick him. When he couldn't see any signs of deceit, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth a bit. Soon, he felt Jim's finger push itself past his lips.

"Give it a good lick, Lasse. Lick all of my pre-sperm off of my finger."

He did and Jim pulled his finger back out of his mouth. He was just about to spit it out when he heard Jim tell him to swallow. He pulled a face he hoped would demonstrate just how bad he thought it was to comply with the order and swallowed heftily.

"Good boy," Jim said and to Lasse it sounded like something the man could've told a dog, "So, do you like it?"

"Not really," Lasse said truthfully.

"It's a different kind of taste, but it's a taste of my love too. Just like the song."

"It's not real bad, it's just not my favourite flavour."

Jim chuckled, "Well, I can't turn it into a vanilla or raspberry flavour. You'll just have to get used to it. You can always have a drink of something afterwards."

"You want me to swallow more of it?" Lasse asked in a panicked voice.

"Not now. That's level 4 stuff. You should have time to get used to the idea of it."

It seemed to Lasse that the higher he raised in levels, the more he'd have to do stuff he didn't really feel like doing.

If Jim had told me beforehand, I wouldn't have agreed to any of it, he thought. He took comfort in knowing it would at least take some time before he'd have to progress to the next level, And by that time, maybe it won't seem like such a big deal after all.

He went back to stroking Jim's prick, when the man asked him to, and had quite a bit of fun listening to the various sounds coming from him while he approached his climax. Lasse got another shock when he watched the prick turn into a geyser spraying glops of warm whitish goo all over his chest.

"That's my sperm," Jim explained.

I'll never in a million years eat that! It looks really disgusting, Lasse thought and told Jim.

"Not until level 6, my friend," was the disturbing reply.

The two spent another ten minutes in the bathtub before they got out and took turns towelling each other. Jim put on his by then mostly dry trousers and boxer shorts and they went to play FIFA. They played against each other until the time when the router allowed Lasse to log on and they could team up against two other players on the Internet. Both found it more fun to play cooperatively rather than against each other.

Hilda entered the house just when Lasse and Jim both roared out in triumph after winning a match that had seemed impossible to win from the start. Jim had passed the ball to Lasse who had sent it into the goal. When they watched the replay, they could both see how the ball sailed into the goal right up in the far triangle.

It's like my dream! Only it happened in a game, not in real life, Lasse thought, but cheered just as wildly as if it had been in real life.

"Are you having fun?" Hilda asked.

"Sure am, mum. You shoulda seen it. I scored a brilliant goal!"

"He did," Jim agreed.

"Do you want to stay for dinner, Jim?" Hilda asked.

"Uh, I haven't really thought of that. Shi…oot! I forgot to tell my mam I wouldn't be coming home for dinner today. They probably already ate."

"Then eat here," Lasse suggested.

"Okay. I'll just make a call to let her know I'm alright."

***

While Jim was outside talking to his mother, Lasse had an insight. The way Jim had acted in front of Lasse's mum, he had been like a little kid too. A kid who had been out too late and worried of what his mum would think had happened to him. But, Jim had just pulled his phone out of his trousers, a real fancy one too, and called home.

"Mum, can I spend my money on a phone?" He asked.

"It's your money, sweetie, but a phone…?"

"Yeah. Like Jim. He used it to call home to let his mum know he's okay. If I had a phone, I could do the same, if anything ever happened."

"We'll have to discuss this with your dad, Lasse. I really think you're too young to be needing a phone."

"But if something happened, like if my heart got all weird again, I could use it to get help."

"Like I said, we'll discuss this when all three of us are home at the same time."

"Then it'll have to be tomorrow morning," Lasse declared.

"Honey, your dad needs his sleep. He won't be home until midnight and you know what he's like after the first day working a new shift."

"He won't even have to get out of bed at all. It'll only take him five seconds to say yes."

"That's not what I meant about having a discussion."

"I'll write a note for him. He can read it when he gets home tonight. Mum, I really want a phone! All the rest of my class in school have phones already."

"I'm sure that isn't true," Hilda sighed, "Alright, Lasse, write that note for your dad. But if he says no, then it's final!"

"Thanks, mum! I promise I'll take good care of it," Lasse exclaimed and quickly went to see what was keeping Jim.

"He hasn't said yes, yet!" Hilda said desperately after him.

"HE WILL," Lasse shouted back at the kitchen.

***

"No, mam! I haven't met a new woman. For the sixth time, this is not a date. I'll be home at ten or so, we can talk then… Yes, again, I'm sorry. I promise to let you know in advance if I'll miss dinner another time… Yeah, I'm sure Bella will enjoy having my dinner for breakfast tomorrow… Don't tell me you think she's a filthy mutt, I've heard how you talk to her at night when you give her treats," Jim said and shrugged helplessly down at Lasse.

"Well, you think everyone is asleep and can't hear anything like yourself just because you don't have your hearing aids in, but I can hear it just fine from my room… Yes mam, I am going to take her with me to my new house, I just need to… I know it'll break pop's heart when he won't be able to walk with her anymore. Why don't you consider getting a dog of your own? Yes, I know they cost a lot. I have to go now, mam. I love you. See you later, okay?"

"Who's Bella?" Lasse asked when Jim finally ended the call.

"She's my dog. It was about the only thing I managed to bring with me from my old house when my ex threw me out. That and a bit of the furniture she didn't want."

"Why haven't you told me you have a dog?"

"Sorry, Lasse. I have a dog. Her name is Bella and she's a seven year-old cross-breed. She looks like a border collie but her markings resemble that of a German Shepard."

"Cool. When can I meet her?"

"Uhm, when I move into my house. Not until then. I don't want her around the house when it's all a mess and there are things she might hurt herself on."

"I get it. Oh, I'm getting a phone like you! That's what I'll be spending my money on."

"Lasse! You have to ask dad first!" Hilda said through the gap of the kitchen window she had popped open.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I said, Jim, I'll be buying a phone soon. Do you know a good one I can afford?"

"Just make sure it's only one with the bare necessities!"

"Mum! I'm trying to talk to Jim here," Lasse said and this time it was he who shrugged helplessly up at Jim.

"When your dad says yes, I'll help you find one, if your parents are okay with it."

"Cool! What are you doing tomorrow afternoon, at like, I don't know, three?"

"Lasse, calm down. I'll help you buy a phone, but not until Saturday. You can survive until then, you've lived without a phone for more than ten years now."

"Aw! Okay then. But it better be one with a lot of games and a good camera and…"

"Only the bare necessities!" Hilda reminded her son.

"Mum!" Lasse exclaimed again and grabbed Jim by the hand, "Come. Let's go somewhere else. We'll come help you in a minute, mum."

"Oh, don't bother. I've nearly finished now. Dinner will be ready in ten. Don't be late or you'll be going to bed hungry, young man!"

***

"When I get a phone, we can talk whenever we want to," Lasse told Jim when they had walked to the other side of the house well out of earshot of his snooping mum.

"We won't be able to do that, Lasse. Remember what I told you before? We have to keep it secret."

"I know," Lasse said and hefted a deep sigh.

"Maybe we can talk a bit every night just before you go to sleep," Jim suggested.

"That'd be cool."

"We could wank together sometimes. We'll get you a phone with a good camera."

"Yeah!"

"Just don't ever take any pictures of your prick or your nude body. And don't send me any texts telling me how badly you want to eat my pre-cum or anything like that."

Lasse scrunched up his nose in disgust, "I wouldn't do that. I'm not stupid."

"If you were, I would never have fallen head over heels in love with you. Keep yourself in check now and let's go eat dinner with your mam, before she eats all of the food on her own."

"Okay."

Chapter 17

Jim left Lasse's house a few minutes past nine that evening, after tucking the boy into his bed. He took a detour to his parents' house, not very interested in having to face his mother and explain what he had been up to that night instead of coming home and eat dinner. Jim loved his mother dearly, but she was a nosy woman, always prying into things that weren't any of her concern. He wondered what she would think about his new friendship to a boy only ten years old. If she'd be outraged if she was ever to find out the true nature of the relationship.

Of course she would. It isn't exactly a common thing for a man like me to want to have sex with a boy like Lasse. No, it isn't just the sex I want. I love him. But some of the things I want to do to him, that isn't love. That's 100% pure hedonistic lust. Fuck, when I pushed my sticky finger into his mouth and made him lick it clean and swallow my pre-cum it almost made me cum. The look on his face was priceless.

Jim arrived home and like he had hoped and anticipated, his parents had already turned in. The house was dark and only Bella welcomed him. She followed him when he walked into the kitchen, sat in the doorway and looked longingly up at top of the fridge. It was where the bowl of treats was and she had soon learned that looking up at it in the right way usually meant she'd be given one. This time was no different, Jim threw her a treat which she caught in the air.

He went to have a pee and moved his stream around the inside of the bowl like he had done that time when he peed over cross with Lasse. He brushed his teeth and went to the bedroom that had been his for the first 19 years of his life. It had been converted to a guestroom when he had moved out, now it was back to being his bedroom again, and had been for the past two and a half years. Bella didn't follow him into the smallish room, she plonked down on the floor in the hallway just outside his door.

Jim wasn't heartbroken of the fact his faithful dog didn't want to sleep with him, he knew it was simply because she wanted the treats his mother would give her during the two or three times she had to get out of bed to empty her bladder. If Bella was inside his room, the shut door meant there'd be no treats, and she knew it.

Besides, if Bella was in my room, it would be hard to focus on my wanking.

He stripped and got into his bed, reached underneath the mattress and pulled out the pair of Lasse's undies he had taken with him after watching the kid Sunday. Already, the smell of Lasse had nearly vaporised, the seat of the undies was nearly spotless as if they had been washed. Indeed, they had been, sort of, but by Jim's tongue, not by a washing machine.

I'll bring them to my house and when Lasse stops by, I'll have him not only wear them, but grind the seat of them deep into his butthole with a finger.

Jim didn't sleep too well that night, his thoughts regarding what he'd do to Lasse had been creepy, bordering on sadistic, just before he fell asleep and his dreams even worse. He had woken twice from a dream where Lasse yelled out from fear and pain. Even more troubling to Jim was his prick had been throbbing painfully hard both times.

***

The man went back to his house earlier than usual that Tuesday morning. He could still vividly remember his dreams, and once again he made a solemn promise to himself that he'd never, EVER, do the things he had dreamt of doing to Lasse. The boy would likely die from some of them.

It would certainly change him for life. He'd tremble from fear every time he heard my name. No, I'm not like that, Jim finally told himself, I'll keep our relationship to one where we'll both benefit from it. Lasse will still play the passive part, he's the more feminine of us. With that miniature of a prick he has, it'll take years for it to grow large enough to be of any use.

With his mind thus made up, Jim resumed insulating the loft of his house. Some of the things he had plans of doing to Lasse required a place where they could be alone for more than just a couple of hours. A place that had a bed and a functional bathroom. A warm place, so Lasse could be naked for an extended period of time without getting too cold.

He likes to streak around almost naked anyway.

Around noon, Jim had an idea. He called his bank, not his own department, but the local branch office where he had his accounts. He discussed the possibilities of increasing the mortgage on the house, so he would have enough money to finish the restoration in one go, instead of doing it in smaller bits. The interest rate was a bit more than he otherwise would have accepted, had he not had an inclination to do so.

I can always use my bonus, if I get one, to pay off some of the mortgage. It's more important I get a good central heating system in the house. Maybe, I'll even have enough money to buy that Jacuzzi too.

The house had a boiler already, but it ran on oil and as far as Jim could tell, it hadn't run for a number of years. The radiators seemed to be fine, though none of them had thermostats, only old shut-off valves that had to be manually adjusted all of the time.

Jim called a small local plumbing company, one that also installed and serviced boilers. When they heard of the scale, and the urgency of the job, they referred him to another company.

***

"Knock, knock!" Lasse called out again, this time louder than before. He knew Jim had to be at home, his green car was parked in front of his house, and a white van was parked behind it. The front door was open too, but Jim hadn't invited him to enter.

"Hi, Lasse. Come on in," He finally heard Jim's voice call out, "We're out back."

"Hi, who's that?" Lasse asked after he had followed Jim's voice to the small boiler room in a small extension behind the house and saw a man in coveralls holding a tablet in his hand.

"Don't mind him, he's here for estimating how much it'll be to upgrade the heating system. How was school?"

"Fuck school!" Lasse said sharply.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Lasse said in a much softer tone.

"I think I know you better than that by now. Come, let's step into my office."

***

"This isn't an office, it's your backyard."

"Well, it has to double for an office. Have a seat," Jim said and sat on the lawn.

"So, what really happened today?" He asked when Lasse sat down next to him.

"Just this stupid kid who thinks he can say and do whatever he wants to me. He chased me and I had to run!" Lasse explained in a voice Jim nearly couldn't pick up.

"Shit!" Jim swore under his breath.

"Yeah. My fucking useless heart wouldn't allow me to get all the way to the loos."

Jim listened while Lasse explained what had happened after he had fallen to the floor in a corridor seldom used by teachers. Several kids had just stood watching while he gasped for air and pointed fingers at him and mimicked his heavy breathing. Fortunately no one had prevented him from getting to his nitro spray and just stepped aside so he could enter the restroom and sit in one of the stalls, locked in, waiting for the end of the lunch break.

"Who was this kid who ran after you?" Jim asked.

"A tall fat kid in my class called Oscar. He's like a head taller and weighs more than double than me. He's scary!"

"Well, I think it's time he and I had a little talk. Do you know where he lives? How does he get home from school?"

"He rides his bike. I don't know where he lives, but he always rides down Apple Lane. I think he takes the bike path from Apple Lane to Meadow Street."

"Is that so? Well, I just may happen to be walking along that bike path tomorrow afternoon when school lets out. If I see him, I'll explain in no uncertain terms what may happen to him if he keeps bullying you."

"Jim, please don't!" Lasse begged, "You'll only make it worse."

"No. This stops now, Lassie. You're my friend and friends take care of and protect each other."

"Lassie? Jim, my name is Lasse!"

"It's my new pet name for you when we're alone. I won't use it when other people can hear it, so don't worry."

"But, it means girl!"

"I know. You are like the girl in our relationship. Don't worry, I won't ask you to wear frilly dresses, but I will call you Lassie from now on to remind you of your status," Jim said and hugged Lasse tight, "Don't worry about Oscar either. Try to stay clear of him tomorrow, and I'm sure he'll be the one trying to stay clear of you for the rest of the school year, if not longer."

***

"The piping seems to be in order, Jim, though the radiators are very outdated. We haven't installed this type in a good thirty years."

Jim cringed when he heard the verdict on the central heating in his house. There were several radiators, at least one per room, though that had been with the old layout he had now altered with the new inner walls.

"I'll wager you'll be able to earn back the extra expenses in less than ten years with the reduction in heat required to heat up the house. Even with relocating the radiators. It'll mean breaking up part of the flooring so we can hook them up to the boiler," the man from the plumbing company explained.

"How long will that take?" Lasse asked, he was still somewhat put off with his new pet name, he wasn't a girl, yet he hadn't left Jim's house. He wanted to discuss the name with his friend first and he couldn't do that, not as long as this technician or whatever he was, was still in the house.

"Hold up, if you'd be breaking up the floors anyway, how much would it be to install underfloor heating?"

The guy scratched his nape and looked at his tablet, "You'll still need a smaller radiator in the lounge and the entrance room but it'll all add up to about the same as new radiators," he said after a minute or so.

"Then let's do that. I don't much care for this uneven concrete floor, anyway. I'll go rent a pneumatic hammer tomorrow and get started breaking it up."

"It'll be a big task if you're going to do it by yourself, Jim," the technician warned.

"Well, I may know someone who can help me. Come Monday, I want your guys in here, installing the new boiler and hooking it up to the underfloor heating. I want new hot and cold water lines ran to the kitchen, bathroom, utility room and readied for a bathroom on the first floor."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Just get it done. Send me a draft of the proposition as soon as you can and if it seems fair, I'll sign it right away."

The technician left Jim's house with a promise of emailing the proposition to Jim.

***

Just when Lasse thought he could talk to Jim about his new pet name, Jim picked up his phone and began dialling.

"It'll only take a minute, Lassie… Hello, this is Jim Andersen speaking. You helped me tear down and erect new timber frame studs last week. I have a new job for you, if you can spare the men for a couple of days?"

"What can we do for you this time?"

"I have about 95 square metres [c. 1000 sq ft.] of concrete flooring I want out of my house, then have enough of the soil underneath removed so I can insulate it proper."

"Sounds like you want underfloor heating?"

"That's right."

"Why not simply install it on top of the existing floors? There are a lot of low profile products on the market now."

"Well, I don't want electric underfloor heating."

"No, I get that, but even with a wet system, it'll only take up about 2-3 cm [c. 1"] of height. Have you installed any doors yet?"

"Not yet."

"Then it's a no-brainer. You'll just need somewhat level floors and it'll be easy to install the underfloor heating. It'll take much less time too, since you won't have to wait for the concrete to cure."

"Can you help me with that?"

"I'd have to do it myself, then. All my crews are out on other jobs."

"I really would like this job finished by Monday, ready for the plumber to hook up to the boiler."

"Ah, I thought you wanted it done sooner than that. If you don't mind it being a moonshine job, without any paperwork I mean, then I might be able to find some who'll do the job during the weekend. Just make sure you have all the materials ready and I'll deliver the manpower."

Finally, Jim put down the phone and Lasse seized the opportunity.

"Jim! What did you mean when you said I'm like the girl in our relationship?"

"Come, let's go to the DIY centre. I'll explain it on the way."

***

"It's like this, Lassie, your little prick is hardly big enough to be of any use. Sure, I can give you an orgasm by rolling it between my fingers, which I am going to keep doing, but it's not like you can fuck anyone with it yet. And even if you could, you wouldn't be sticking it in my arse! Whereas my prick, it's plenty big enough for fucking you like I'd fuck a girl."

"Oh. But that's still not until level 10."

"No. But, the way you've been pushing the limits, we'll be reaching level 10 by next week. No, maybe not so soon, but you're still going to be the one who gets to be fucked and suck on my prick. Like a girl."

"Hmm," Lasse hummed. Jim had a point, his boy prick was puny compared to the large prick of the man, yet he wasn't entirely sure about the necessity of being addressed with a pet name for a girl.

"Anyway, you don't get to choose, Lassie. Just accept it and move on. Tomorrow, I'll make sure you won't ever get bullied any more, that should mean something to you. Oh, speaking of tomorrow. When you leave for school in the morning, I want you to wear a button down shirt. Do you have one?"

"Yes. Why do you want me to wear that?"

"You'll leave the top three or four buttons undone. And don't wear anything under or over the shirt."

"But, that'll mean people can see my scar!"

"Exactly. I want them to, and I want you to pretend like you don't care at all. Let them have a good look, let them all stare at it if they want to. If anyone tells you to cover up, pretend you can't hear them, unless it's a teacher, of course. If a teacher tells you to button up your shirt, say that you've been told by your doctor that your scar needs air. Don't button up your shirt or try to hide your scar at all!"

"But, Jim, I don't want…"

"Lassie, when I tell you to do something like that, it's because I know it'll help you long term. Yes, you will be uncomfortable tomorrow until you get used to people looking at you. I need all of the kids to see your scar, it's vital to my plan with that kid Oscar. He's the instigator of the bullying isn't he?"

"Yes, but I still," Lasse stopped himself in midsentence, sighed deeply and said, "Alright then. I'll do it."

It was strange to Lasse having to accept a defeat. Usually, unless the matter involved Lasse participating in some form of physical activity, he had been able to twist his parents around his little finger and have things his way. Like that same morning, when his dad had agreed to him spending some of his money on a smartphone. Lasse had plans for spending exactly 1999 out of the 2000 kroner he had, so he could tell his dad he hadn't spent all of his money on buying a smartphone

It had been the reason for Lasse to go to Jim's house directly after school that Tuesday. Instead of the two of them discussing which phone would be the best buy for what money he had to spend, Lasse had now gotten a new pet name, which he didn't like in the least, and he sat in Jim's car being dragged along to the DIY centre at the outskirts of the town. And as far as Lasse knew, they didn't have any smartphones for sale there.

***

While Jim talked to the sales person at the DIY centre, Lasse walked aimlessly around the aisles. There were interesting things on display, but Lasse was in a sulky mood and didn't pay any attention to them. Not until he found himself standing in front of a locked display cabinet where a small selection of smartphones were lined up. They didn't look like anything special, except for being quite sturdy and unbreakable as the label across one of the phones said.

There was a small TV running a promotion video for the phone. Lasse watched it and saw the phone being submitted to a range of things he'd never in his wildest dreams do to any phone of his. One second it was hit hard by a hammer and the screen hadn't been chipped, it wasn't even scratched when the camera zoomed in on it afterwards. The scenario changed and the phone was placed on a road, then a tank drove right over it with one of its belts.

"Bullocks!" Lasse whispered when the phone was picked up afterwards. It hadn't even been dirtied.

That's gotta be fake! No way can a tank run over a phone and not leave any marks on it.

He was intrigued however, but only until he realized the phone cost a great deal more than he could afford. It was about three times as much as the most expensive phone he could buy with his own money. He went back to where Jim was still talking with the boring sales person.

"So, I'll be able to return the materials I don't use?" Jim asked.

"Yes, as long as they are still in unopened boxes and the boxes are unharmed, and you have your receipt, then you can return them and buy something else or get your money back."

"Good. I'll need enough for 95 square metres [c. 1000 sq ft.], no, better make that 100 [c. 1100 sq ft.], just in case. Self-levelling cement, the primer, the adhesives, and the foam stuff with the channels in it. Not to forget, the heating hose. And you're sure that 16 mm is the proper diameter for it?"

"It's what we sell the most of. But you need to make sure the loops won't exceed the manufacturer's limits, or you'll end up with cold sections of flooring. I'll have them pack up enough materials so you won't run out in the middle of it. You only want the hose, no fittings or other hardware?"

"No, I have a plumber coming in on Monday who'll hook it up to the boiler and he'll install circulation pumps and whatever else is needed."

"Very well, then. How do you wish to pay?"

"Debit card, please."

Chapter 18

Jim was certain his debit card was still smouldering in his wallet when he and Lasse was on their way home from the DIY centre. He had not only paid for the materials, he had also abused the ATM right outside the entrance to the centre to get enough cash to pay for the crew who'd help him install them. The wad of bills was too large to fit into his wallet, so he had put them into his front pocket instead.

"Jim?" He heard his little friend ask.

"Yes, Lassie?"

"Arrrh! If they are coming over to work on your house on Saturday, will you still be able to take me to buy a phone?"

"Oh, crap! I completely forgot that amidst all the other stuff, I'm so sorry," Jim said and looked at Lasse.

"It's okay," Lasse said in a small voice. It wasn't okay, far from it, and his nose started running. He was able to hide his tears for a while but then he had to sniff to stop the watery substance from running too far out of his nose and down his upper lip.

"Oh, Lasse! Please, don't cry. Tell you what, I'll make sure the crew gets off to a good start, and when they know what to do, you and I will go shopping for your phone. How's that?"

Lasse nodded, thankful for Jim understanding how big a thing it was to him and that Jim had used his proper boy name, instead of the pet name. His thankfulness was short-lived, when Jim continued talking.

"There's some tissues in the glove compartment, why don't you blow your nose properly and then flash me one of them smiles I love so much, Lassie?"

Jim pulled into Lasse's driveway and they sat in the car, kissing for a good five minutes, before he let Lasse out. The boy had schoolwork to do and Jim had floors to sweep and pour self-levelling cement onto.

***

The next morning when Jim went to check if his floors had been levelled enough, Lasse stood in front of his closet. He had only just finished showering and stood naked while he shifted through the few button down shirts he owned. He only had four, and the first one he downright refused to put on. It was one he wore for family parties only, usually with a blue butterfly and was much too nice to wear for school. It would be like wearing a school uniform, something kids didn't have to in Denmark, at least not in the public school where Lasse was a pupil.

The next one wasn't much better, it was pink. His mum had bought it and had made him wear it on one occasion, all the while telling him it looked great on him. Pink was a girl's colour to Lasse and he slid the hanger over so the pink shirt from hell moved to sit next to the 'party' shirt. The only viable options he had was a short-sleeved shirt, one he liked a lot, and a regular button down shirt, both light blue.

He took out the short-sleeved shirt and put it on, then found out he had outgrown it when he tried to button it up. Somewhat angered he pulled it back off, dropped it to the floor and was about to ignore Jim's request and just put on a t-shirt. Right at that moment, he heard his door open and he hurriedly reached in for the nearest piece of clothing, which was the pink shirt.

"What's keeping you, Lasse, breakfast is ready," Hilda said.

"Mum! Why don't you ever knock? I'm naked!" Lasse said while he feverishly tried to get his left hand into the sleeve of the pink shirt so he could cover at least part of his body from his mother.

"Sorry, Lasse. Hurry up now, or you won't have time to eat your breakfast. Nice choice, by the way, I like that shirt."

I hate it. But it's better than you seeing me naked, Lasse thought. Fortunately, Hilda didn't stay, she gently shut the door and left him alone again. He was just about to take off the shirt, when he understood the dilemma he had ended up in. If he took it off and put on the light blue shirt, his mother would surely ask why and he'd have to say he didn't like it. It would lead to more questions and possibly Lasse hurting his mum's feelings.

He sighed and began buttoning up the shirt. He did up all the buttons right up to the very top one, then unbuttoned one button at a time, until all of his scar showed through the gap on front of his shirt. He quickly had a look in the mirror in the bathroom to make sure nothing more than what was absolutely necessary showed through the gap. He was sickened by the colour of the shirt and while he went to the kitchen he quickly folded up the sleeves as high as he could get them.

"You look like a right little charmer this morning. Who's the lucky girl?" Hilda asked.

"No one, mum. Can I please get a haircut soon?"

"My, my, are you sure you haven't found someone to make an impression on? You've never asked for a haircut before, you've always been reluctant to get one."

"I'm older now."

"Don't try to grow up too quickly, son. I'm not prepared to let you move out just yet."

"Who said anything about that? I only want a haircut, not move out."

"I'll call Helen, maybe she can take you this afternoon. Call me when you get home from school and I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, my little man. Oh, Lasse, you're growing up way too quickly. I wish I could turn back time to when you were a little wee baby again."

"Don't get all mushy now, mum. And please, you better not be thinking about having another baby."

"Hah, the time for something like that has long gone. Me, having a new-born baby at the age of 37? I think not."

"I thought you're 38?"

"Shush now, Lasse. What happened to being a little charmer? It isn't polite to remind a woman of her age. I'll be 37 for at least another three years."

"Whatever, mum."

***

Jim was pouring another thin layer of the not so very self-levelling cement onto his kitchen floor, when Lasse was dropped off in front of his school. Lasse had to suffer from wolf-calls and loud whistles from other kids as he made his way to class. A lot of the kids he met along the way looked strangely at him, mostly because of the way he wore his shirt, he looked like a little male stripper, an impression enhanced by the colour of his shirt. Some kids noticed his scar too.

"Did you see that kid there?" Lasse heard from behind him. He had just passed a group of four girls from the fifth grade, the one above his.

"Yeah, that shirt! Who'd wear something like that for school?" Another high-pitched voice said.

"No, didn't you see? The scar… It looks like someone stabbed him in the chest."

"Oh? I didn't see that. Hey, kid! You there, the one in the pink shirt. Turn around, eh?"

"I don't want to be late for first period," Lasse said without stopping.

"It'll only take a second."

Lasse turned, for a brief moment to allow the four girls to have a good look at him, then he resumed walking to his classroom.

"Holy shit!" He heard one of the girls exclaim before he walked beyond the range of where he could hear their conversation.

"What's this, are you a fag now?" Lasse heard a more familiar voice ask him when he entered the door to his classroom. He ignored Oscar, just like Jim had told him to, and went to his desk where he dropped the schoolbag next to it. He picked up his chair from on top of the desk, flipped it the right way up and sat it down on the floor before he flopped down on top of it.

"Fucking answer me, you little shit," Oscar said this time right in front of Lasse face.

"Leave me alone," Lasse tried.

"Not until you tell me why you're wearing this," the large kid said and tugged at the front of Lasse's shirt.

Right then, the bell rang, indicating the beginning of the first period. Their Danish teacher entered the class room almost at the same time and told the stragglers to be seated. Unwillingly, Oscar let go of Lasse's shirt and went to his own desk to sit on his chair.

Lasse took a deep breath. He only uttered a "Here," when he heard his name being said by the teacher when she made the rollcall, and spent the rest of the period hiding behind his books. He prayed that Oscar would somehow forget him, or at least just leave him alone for the rest of the school day. With more than six hours remaining of it, he knew he was really praying for a miracle to happen.

***

"Self-levelling, my arse. There's nothing self-levelling about this cement," Jim swore again and redoubled his efforts of getting the kitchen floor perfectly level. The cement had to cure for 24 hours and he only had two more tries before the builders would swarm his house. The other rooms weren't nearly as bad as the kitchen, but he still had to work on the bathroom floor. The concrete there would have to come out and new plumbing installed.

And it still needs to be walled. Damn, I was going to do that this weekend with Lasse. I really have to finish one task before moving onto another one. I was brought up to do that by my old man! I still haven't done all of the electrics, the drywalls aren't all up, and the insulation hasn't been fully completed. Now there's the floors and the God damned central heating system. It'll take a fucking miracle to get it all done in time for winter! And winter is coming!

***

Winter was still months away and it certainly wasn't what Lasse worried about, not with Oscar hovering above him. Recess had come, the teacher left and as soon as she had cleared the door, the fat kid was right back at Lasse's desk.

"So, fag, who are you trying to impress with that pink shirt of yours? Why did you even bother doing up some of the buttons, I can fucking see your belly button through the fabric, you little wuss. Is your arsehole sore? Is that why you can't sit still in your chair? Talk to me, Lasse. Let me hear if you've started to lisp yet. Hah, you're not worthy of my time."

Oscar stood back up, he had been leaning against the desk, and he quickly shoved at the backrest of Lasse's chair. Lasse shrieked when he felt himself falling backwards, still sitting on the chair, and the back of his head hit the vinyl-covered floor hard. The fat kid didn't wait to find out what had happened to Lasse, he quickly ran out the door, suddenly fearing for what he had done.

Lasse took a moment before he slowly went about getting up and off the floor.

"Here, let me help you," A kid, whose name he momentarily couldn't remember, told him.

"Uh, thanks." Lasse said and grabbed the outstretched hand.

"Oscar shouldn't be picking on you. I didn't know you had surgery. It must have been real scary. Did it hurt much?"

"I don't want to talk about it and I sure don't need your pity! Just, leave me alone!"

Lasse was fuming mad, this kid, Matt, hadn't been nice to him ever before. He had to see Lasse's scar for that to happen. And Lasse was more than just a little unfortunate kid with a big scar. So much more. He scampered out of the class room, felt a great need for being alone. The restroom wasn't as nasty as the last time he had been there, it was only the first recess after all. And he spent the rest of it, locked inside one of the stalls, completely ignoring the other kids who entered and left the restroom.

If it was a miracle, no one knows, but Oscar didn't do anything to Lasse for the rest of the day. Lasse went to where his bus waited, Oscar in the other direction, to fetch his bike from the bike stands.

***

Jim had by that time finished with the kitchen floor. He had given it his best shot, and if the floor wasn't level enough for having underfloor heating installed on top of it, then so be it. He was ready to accept a radiator in that room if he had to. He had a more pressing issue at hand, he had to find where the bike path from Apple Lane connected to Meadow Street, find a place to park his car and walk back to the bike path and hopefully still have time to find the perfect spot for a small ambush.

Oscar was riding his bike slowly that day, almost lazily, which was a good thing for Jim. He had slipped in behind a large oak tree and had found a stick small enough to go in-between the spokes of a bicycle wheel and still sturdy enough to not snap in the process. It was just in the nick of time, he realized, when a rather fat kid appeared from behind a bend in the path heading towards him. The path sloped downhill making sure the kid's bike picked up speed even though he wasn't pedalling.

Jim stepped out onto the path, blocking half of it, just when Oscar had gotten too close to him to be able to stop.

Oscar had to swerve wildly to avoid running into the man who had appeared from thin air and he was about to shout at him, when the man did something he had never thought anyone would do.

Jim quickly stuck the twig into the front wheel of the fat kid's bike, watched it go halfway around with the wheel until it was suddenly blocked by the arms of the fork. The wheel jammed in place and the boy went head first out over the handlebars when the bike bucked underneath him. Immediately, Jim was on top of the kid, slammed his left fist into the kids' nose, then his right fist even harder directly into the nuts between the fat thighs.

"Lasse says hi, motherfucker. Stay the fuck away from him or you won't live to regret it. If anyone asks, you fell on your bike. Do you fucking understand me?"

"Y-yes. Pu-pu-please don't hurt me anymore."

"Remember what I told you," Jim said as menacingly as he could while he quickly removed the twig from the wheel. All the spokes seemed fine, and a quick look around told him there had been no witnesses to his crime. He casually threw the twig back in under the tree and walked towards his car.

***

Lasse was still on the bus at the time and was just about to push the stop button when Jim got into his car. The boy had no idea of what Jim had done, he was only happy to be close to home and able to change out of the pink shirt. He did just that, and hid it as far into his closet as he could, before he did anything else. With a snack in one hand, the cordless phone in his other he headed for the bathroom while he pushed the speed dial for Hilda's work.

He sat on the toilet, while he listened to the signals from the receiver telling him the phone in his mum's handbag was ringing. His pee had just begun flowing when she picked up.

"Hi mum. Did you call?"

"Hi Lasse. Yes. Are you on the toilet right now?"

"Yes?"

"Lasse! Will you stop peeing for a second?"

"I can't," Lasse said most truthfully, "So, what did Helen say?"

"She'll take you at four. I'll pay her the next time I go to get my hair done, so don't worry about that. Lasse?"

"Yes, mum?"

"I hope you don't talk to other people when you're using the toilet. It's disgusting!"

"I had to pee and you told me to call you as soon as I got home."

"Start on your schoolwork when you've finished and then go to Helen's saloon. When you're done, go straight back home and wait for me. I'll be home at five."

"'K. Bye mum," Lasse said and hung up. He sat for another fifteen seconds before his bladder was finally emptied.

***

"Hi, Helen," Lasse greeted his mum's hairdresser, and his, when she told him to sit in the chair in front of the mirror.

"Hi, Lasse. So, what'll it be, the same as usual?" She asked and wrapped him up with a large protective cloth.

"No. I'm feeling adventurous today. Can you make my hair spiked?"

"I should hope so," Helen laughed, "So you're feeling adventurous. How about a faded hairdo then?"

"Faded? Like a colour change?"

"No, your mum would kill me if I changed the colour of your red hair," Helen said seriously and picked up a magazine with a lot of boys brandishing different haircuts, "No, what I mean is like this one."

"Can you really make my hair look like that?" Lasse asked. The boy's hair looked amazing. It went from almost bald around the ears and at the nape, then the hair grew longer the further towards the top of the head. The longer, but still spiky, hair was combed forwards and stood out and upwards in a cool bump at the front.

"Yep."

"Can you make it so that my cow tongue won't stick out anymore?"

"Your cow tongue? Oh, your cowlick. Yes, I can work with it, it's no use trying to fight it, Lasse. A cowlick will always win. But, with a little care, it can be tamed. Do you want something to read while I cut your hair?"

"Yeah, do you have one of the Donald Duck jumbo books?"

"I think I have one you haven't read. Here."

***

"Oh, you're the best, Helen. I look almost like the kid in the picture. I only need an earring now, and for my hair to turn black, but then people would think him and me were twins."

"So you approve?"

"I do. And you got rid of my cowlick!"

"The twirl is still there, but I sweet-talked it and trimmed it, so it should behave nicely from now."

"Cool. Uh, can I get some of that stuff you put in my hair? Was it wax?"

"Yes. Don't put too much in your hair in the mornings. Do you bathe at night or in the mornings?"

"Mornings, mostly."

"Okay. Make sure you towel your hair real well, it has to be almost completely dry before you put the wax in."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Lasse felt like a new and improved boy when he made his way back home from the hairstylist.

Chapter 19

Jim was back at his house too, putting the finishing touches on the insulation. Finally, he was able to mentally tick off one more of the many jobs he had to do before making the house inhabitable. So far, only two of the jobs had been done, the roof was watertight and the loft insulated.

Well I won't be doing anything to the upstairs until spring. The downstairs floor would really be enough for only me and Bella, and occasionally Lassie, if he'll ever be spending the night here.

Thinking of the young boy led his mind astray and he wondered about what he might be up to right then. He figured he'd be on the Xbox, playing his all beloved FIFA game. It was 16:45 after all.

***

Lasse wasn't playing any games however, he was busy doing his homework. The unexpected long time he had spent with Jim the previous day, and his appointment at the hairstylist had meant he was lagging behind his own schedule. There was a maths assignment to be handed in the next day and a Danish essay for Friday, history report due for Monday, and a lot of Danish to English words to translate for Tuesday. So, he had decided he wouldn't be playing at all that day.

Besides without Jim, it isn't as fun to play. Though I'm still kind of angry with him. Calling me Lassie. How dare he? I'm not a girl!

He turned his attention back to the equations. Only for a brief while, then he was back to thinking about Jim.

When we kissed the first time, he said I should pretend to be a girl for her man. And then I should show him how I'd be the boy for a girl. Maybe that's what he meant when he said I'd be the girl in our relationship. He'll show me what to do when I'll have to be with a girl in five years' time, when I'm fifteen. Maybe by then, I'll even want to be with a girl.

"That's it!" He said out loud, "It's only practising. Like school. It's nothing to do with me or Jim being fags. He's only teaching me about sex."

And demonstrating it. Like my science teacher.

***

"Wow, you look so classy now, Lasse. Very different," Hilda said when she saw her son's new haircut.

"Aw, mum. I'm still me. But thanks. Do you like it?"

"It'll take me a bit of time to get used to it, but I don't disapprove. It's your hair."

"Can I get an earring?"

"Absolutely not!"

"It's my ear, too!"

"That's something entirely different. To have an earring means you'll have to have your ear pierced. It'll leave a scar, even if you should decide you don't want an earring after all."

"A scar? Mum, do you really think I'd care about a tiny little dot no one will ever notice? With this?" He asked and pulled down the front of his t-shirt to emphasize what he meant.

"You don't have to show me your scars. I know you have them. But the answer is still no. You will not get an earring. You're much too young for something like that."

"Okay, I'll just ask dad."

"You will do no such thing. Lasse, I will blister your little rear end blue and black if you have your ear pierced."

"Heh, you can't smack me. They taught me that at school. Corporal punishments were outlawed in 1997. On May 13. Remember that date? It's my birthday!"

"I'll take away your Xbox. There's no laws against that."

Lasse gasped, "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, but I would. Don't test my patience with that thing again."

"Fine!"

"Why on earth would you want an earring anyway?"

"I saw a boy my age with one, when Helen showed me a picture of the haircut before I agreed to it. It looked cool."

"Your ear might get infected too. And I still mean it. I'll take your Xbox if you get your ear pierced. I agreed to the phone, remember?"

"Only when dad said it was alright."

"Yes. So, when is Jim taking you to buy one, Saturday?"

"Uh-huh. He has to do something from early morning, but when he's done, he'll take me. We'll go to a store which only sells phones. In Ballerup. Is that okay?"

"Yes. But I want you to stay at home all Sunday."

"Why?"

"Your dad and I want to spend time with you too, Lasse. You're our son. Not Jim's."

No, I'm more like his girl, Lasse was about to tell his mum, but fortunately only thought it.

***

When Lasse returned to school Thursday morning, kids looked at him again. This time it wasn't because he was flashing his scar, nor because he was wearing a pink shirt, but because of his red hair. No longer resembling a bird's nest with a small wisp of unruly hair sticking out from the rear of his head, it was styled in the latest fashion.

Lasse had spent longer than usual in front of the bathroom mirror that morning, making sure every single strand of his hair pointed in exactly the right direction. He had used wax too, way too much of it, and it made his hair shiny. And sticky. Like his fingers had been until he had washed them with plenty of soap. He was wearing a green V-neck jumper and jeans, as per his mum's instructions.

"It's getting too cold for t-shirt and shorts, Lasse. I know it is still summer according to the calendar, but it sure seems like autumn has arrived," she had told him.

The change of clothing had prompted him to check his hair once more, and it was a good thing he did that as some of it had been flattened in the process. The kids he met in the hallway didn't stare at him, like they had the previous day, but more than one turned their heads to check him out from behind when he passed them. Both girls and boys alike. He was starting to become somewhat interesting, but everyone still knew he was the cripple.

When Lasse walked into his classroom, he took in a breath of air when he saw Oscar sitting at his desk. Lasse went to his own, while he kept a close watch at the menacingly kid who was almost a full year older than himself. And as previously stated, much larger. Oscar looked even more gruesome than per usual, he had a cut on his forehead and a black eye.

I wonder what happened to him. But at least, he doesn't seem to be interested in bullying me right now.

In fact, Oscar wasn't even looking in Lasse's direction. It was like he did it deliberately, though Lasse couldn't figure out why. He shrugged it off, like he did with a lot of stuff that was beyond his level of comprehension, though he told himself to ask Jim. The man had told him he'd stop Oscar's bullying.

Would Jim really beat up Oscar for me? Nah. He wouldn't break the law for me. And beating up kids is against the law. People get thrown in prison for that.

***

"Finally!" Jim said to himself when he used the long level to check the kitchen floor. It was mostly flat, and the bubble in the level exactly in the middle, no matter in which direction he placed it on the floor. The lounge floor, a slightly larger area than the large kitchen/dining room, sloped somewhat into the middle of the room.

It isn't too much though. A dip of about half a cm in total, but it'll take like 30 bags of the self-levelling cement to sort it. I'm not pouring so much money onto the floor to fix that. Besides, the bathroom floor is more important now.

Jim went to the DIY centre, he felt like he was a regular customer there, already. He picked up the things he needed for the plumbing in the bathroom. It was fortunately the only existing plumbing, at least drainage wise, he had to alter at the downstairs level, having decided the sink in the kitchen was in the right location for his needs. The drain there would be sufficient for a dishwasher too, in case he'd ever buy one. The water lines would be put inside the walls, so there were no problems there either.

He also rented a large electric demolition jack hammer, which he thought would deal with the existing floor in his bathroom quite nicely. It was however tiring work, as he found out, when he half an hour later began to chip away at the old concrete. When he stopped for a lunch break, only a quarter of the floor had been broken into smaller manageable pieces.

***

Lasse went to get his skimmed milk and searched for a suitable place to sit and eat his lunch. It had started raining at some point during the second period and he didn't want to go outside to eat. Most of the tables in the large cafeteria were already taken, even those at the far back, furthest away from where the two pupils from the ninth grade helped the cafeteria lady dish out food to the hungry masses.

Still, that was where Lasse walked slowly, to the far back, in search of an empty chair, hopefully at a likewise empty table. He held the milk carton in one hand and clutched his plastic lunchbox in the other. In the lunchbox were four halved pieces of rye bread with each their own kind of meat topping. Lasse had helped his mum prepare the lunch for all three of them, so he knew what to expect when he'd open his lunchbox.

It wasn't anything special, but Lasse was used to it and he liked the toppings. It never varied much, one piece with a thin slice of rolled pork with a bit of mayonnaise and chopped red onion on top. One piece with mortadella and a bit of remoulade, one with sliced chicken breast and the last one always had whichever leftovers was left from dinner. Some days it could be sliced steak or half a meatball. Which was what it was that Thursday.

There was one vacant table with four chairs and Lasse plopped down on the one furthest in the corner, with his back up against the wall. He opened his lunchbox and was about to liberate the first of his open sandwiches from the greaseproof paper when he could tell someone sat at his table. He didn't look up, just kept on trying to get the paper off so he could eat, but without it taking too much of the remoulade with it.

"Hi," Lasse heard and he made a slight jump from surprise.

"Hi," he said without looking up. He hoped whomever it was would get the message and leave him alone. Or at the very least that they'd sit quietly and eat their lunch, which was what he wanted.

"I like the 'do."

"Thanks," Lasse said and bent even closer to the table to take a bite from the open sandwich.

"Who cut your hair?" He heard just when he bit down and had his mouth half-full of tasty mortadella, rye bread and remoulade.

Instead of enjoying it slowly as he otherwise would have done, he had to quickly chew and swallow in order to answer coherently. As he had been taught, talking with your mouth full of food wasn't very polite.

"At Salon Helen," he replied after swallowing loudly.

"That old woman cut your hair?"

"She did. And she may be old but she's nice!" Lasse replied vehemently and looked up to see a boy his age, though one he knew was in 4B not 4A like he.

"Her hands always shakes, like she has Parkinson's. Aren't you afraid she might cut your ear or cut off too much hair?"

"She's never done that to me. Her hands doesn't shake when she cuts my hair. And it was she who suggested this haircut to me."

"It does look great on you. Your name is Lasse isn't it?"

"Yes. Better known as the cripple, I guess. But I'm not a cripple. I have a stuffed up heart, I'm not missing a leg or sumthin'."

"I saw your scar yesterday. Looked right cool. No, sorry, not cool cool, but wicked. Arh, it still sounds wrong like that."

"You don't find it disgusting? Appalling? Morbid?"

"A little morbid I guess. But not disgusting."

"And you don't think it has to be so sad, so dreadfully bad to be me?"

"A little. I feel for you, somewhat, but I'm like full of respect of you. If it had been me, I'd still be crying myself to sleep every night."

"Who says I don't do that?"

"Do you?"

"No. But, I've wanted to. Crying doesn't help though. It doesn't make things better, it wouldn't turn back time or repair the damage done to my heart, it wouldn't give me a new heart. No matter how much I'd cry. I just have to somehow live with it."

"That's cool. See, that's what I like about you."

"What's your name?"

"Ivar."

"Why are you talking to me Ivar? I mean, why now? Is it cuz of my hair or cuz you now know I have a scar? Why not a year ago, or like three days ago?"

"I don't know. I didn't know you, you were like the kid everyone called names."

"Were you afraid they'd call you names too, if you'd hang out with me?"

"I, I'm sorry. But, yes. I was. I'm not any longer though."

"Pussy!" Lasse sneered at Ivar.

"Pardon?"

"I told you that you're a pussy. You're a wanker, like the rest of this fucking school. A coward, that's what you are. I don't need you now, you know? I needed you a year or two ago. Go fuck yourself, Ivar."

"You, you bloody cripple!" Ivar said before he hurriedly got up from the chair and walked away.

"Yeah, that's right! I'm the cripple with a cool haircut and a scar that makes me look like I would've been better off dead. But it doesn't matter. Just stay the hell away from me. I don't need you, I don't need ANY of you fucking lot."

Chapter 20

When school was over, Lasse again went to Jim's house. It was fast becoming routine that he'd pop in for a visit, though he was well aware of the fact it wouldn't be much longer before Jim had to go back to work. It was Thursday, August 17th, and Jim's vacation would end Sunday the 27th a measly ten days later. He pushed open the little gate and walked right up to the front door of Jim's house. This day it was shut but he could tell Jim was inside the house.

The noise coming from inside sounded like Jim was busy tearing down the house. Lasse could feel the vibrations from the tool he used, the jack hammer, under his feet as he stood on the second of the two concrete steps in front of the door. He instinctively knew no matter how loud he'd shout, Jim wouldn't be able to hear him. And it wouldn't do any good knocking on the door. Lest he knocked it off the hinges.

Instead he chose to push down on the door handle and open the door. He entered the house without having been told it was okay, but he had to talk to Jim. He was the only one who knew what had happened to Oscar and likely why that Ivar kid had chosen to sit at a table where Lasse, the lowly cripple, had sat. Not only that, but spoken to him as well. Lasse followed the noise, couldn't actually see where Jim was, due to the drywalls, he had helped the man install.

It wasn't until he got to the end of the drywall, that he could see the man standing in a cloud of dust, holding on to a jack hammer that seemed to be hammering as much back at his friend as it was hammering into the concrete below him. Lasse had to stick a finger into each of his ears before he went any closer to Jim and he carefully approached the man. Jim hadn't noticed him, though that wasn't surprising to Lasse.

He didn't want to get too close to the machine from hell, neither did he feel like just standing where he was until Jim would look up and notice his presence. Lasse saw the electric cord connecting the jack hammer to one of the newly installed outlets in the drywall. He felt a sense of pride when he remembered how he had drilled out the hole for the box which he couldn't remember the proper name for.

He didn't care either, he simply reached down and pulled the plug on the cord from the outlet. Instantly the noise stopped.

"What the fuck? Aw, don't tell me this piece of shit has broken down now. I've only just started to make some real progress."

"Hi Jim," Lasse shouted.

"Oh, it's you, Lassie. I should've known you'd be coming by around now," Jim said and removed his protective earmuffs.

"What're you doing?"

"Well, right now I'm talking to you, but before you pulled the cord, I was busy breaking up the floor so I can dig out for the new plumbing. I want to have it done before the guys come to install the underfloor heating."

"Ah."

"How was your day?"

"Strange. What did you do to Oscar?"

"Has he been bothering you today?"

"No. He didn't even look at me the entire day."

"Well, then it worked. Let me know if he ever starts bothering you again, Lassie."

"What did you do?"

"I stopped his bike for him. He was going a bit too fast for his own safety. Then I told him to stay away from you and it would seem like he listened to what I said. By the way, I like your new hair."

"Thanks. Everybody seems to like it. This kid, someone I've never talked to, sat at the table where I sat and just began talking to me."

"Oh? Well, that's nice isn't it?"

"No. I asked him why he'd talk to me now and not earlier. He told me it was because he was afraid of being called names too."

"I see. You'd rather he'd talked to you long ago. Tell me something, would you have wanted to talk to someone like you, if you had been someone else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Picture this, you're just a normal healthy kid with no problems, you go to school, you have good classmates and generally have a good life. There's this kid at your school. One you don't know, maybe someone has told you his name long ago, but you've forgotten it. You only know him as the cripple. You don't know why everyone calls him that, you can't really see anything wrong with him, other than that he can't run without suddenly falling to the ground gasping for air like a fish out of water.

"Would you walk up to that kid and talk to him?"

"Well, yeah. If he seemed like a nice kid, I would."

"Come now, Lassie. Would you, really? Be honest with me. Wouldn't you be afraid of losing all of your friends? To be bullied like the poor kid?"

"They wouldn't be real friends if they'd bully me for talking to a kid."

"You only say that, because you haven't been part of a clique, not yet. So what did you do, when he said that to you?"

"I told him to go fuck himself."

"You did, eh? You have balls, kid. Larger than real life, and I have seen your little nuts. I've even fondled them while you screamed in ecstasy. Well, maybe you did the right thing when you told him to fuck off, maybe not. Only time will tell. If you want friends at school, though, you'll have to seize the opportunities that are made available to you."

"Why would I want friends like Ivar?"

"I don't know? To have friends your age?"

"Kids my age are so immature."

"Oh well. I had hoped you would've taken advantage of Oscar not bullying you and the other kids not being afraid of him anymore. Like you used to be."

"I have you as my friend, Jim. I don't need anyone else."

"I only hope I'll be enough for you, Lassie. I like having you as my little lover boy."

"Only you don't think of me like a boy!"

"That's only because I eventually get to fuck your little arse, Lassie. That's why I say you're the girl of our relationship."

"Oh. I already agreed to that."

"You did. I'm going to take advantage of you. You do know that, don't you?"

"I guess. But I'll know what to do with a girl when the time comes."

"Just don't try to stick your prick in her arse the first chance you get," Jim laughed, "She might not appreciate that."

"Probably not. I'd stick it in her pussy."

"There, you go. Before you go ahead and do that, I'll be sticking my prick into yours. Plenty of times."

"Will it really not hurt me?"

"Maybe some, at least at first. It won't harm you. I won't rip your butt open."

"You told me you'd never hurt me!"

"No, that was what you concluded. I told you I'd never harm you, Lassie. That was the exact word coming out of my mouth. There's a slight difference. What we'll end up doing may be a little painful or uncomfortable to you, just like it would be for a little virgin girl. You're a tough kid, though. You can live with a little pain. I already know that. What you did today at school only proved it to me again."

"You tricked me!"

"No! I didn't and I won't ever trick you. I've been upfront with you, explained right from the start what would happen. I even gave you several chances to back out and you didn't. You agreed to it. It won't be as bad as it sounds, Lassie. As soon as I get a chance to do so, I'll show you a video. It'll show you what to expect."

"What if I don't want to do it?"

"I told you that too. You don't get to choose. I won't make you do things that'll harm you, Lassie. I truly do love you, please trust me on this. You might even enjoy everything we'll do. If only you'll allow yourself to."

"Huh?"

"When we're together sexually, I want you to stop thinking of yourself as a boy, and believe that you're simply a person with no gender. You'll be a sexual being, one who isn't boy or girl, but one that is both boy and girl."

"So, basically, a boy who does the things the girl would."

"If you'd rather describe it like that, then yes. A boy who isn't afraid of doing the things a girl would. One who won't give a fuck as to whether or not it would be okay for a boy to enjoy having sex while being taken like a girl. One who doesn't care what other people might think of him if they knew, which they won't anyway. Like we promised, no one will ever know."

"I don't care about the other kids in school. I don't need them."

"Maybe you'll change your mind about them, which is okay. I don't mind you having other friends, in fact, it would only be better for both of us if you had."

"Uh…"

"Just give it some thought, Lassie. Go home and think. I love you, and I'd like nothing more than for you to stay, but I have to get this floor sorted. You can't help me with it, not dressed like that."

"It's okay, I have homework to do anyway. You'll still let me help with the plasterboards though?"

"For sure. I need your expert help with those. It'll take precision cutting and I wouldn't trust anyone but you to get it right. Maybe we can do it on Sunday?"

"No. Not Sunday. Mum wants me to stay at home to spend time with her and dad."

"That's okay. Maybe Saturday then, if we can work alongside the crew. We won't be alone, but we wouldn't be alone Sunday either, anyway."

"After we pick up my phone?"

"Yes. After that."

"Okay. Thanks, Jim."

"No need to say thanks. Why don't you give me a little kiss instead? Just mind the dirt, I don't want your clothes to get all messed up."

The little kiss turned out to last more than ten minutes. It was an activity Lasse fully enjoyed, just like he had the first time after he had gotten past the first nervousness. He didn't need any encouragement, wilfully and trustingly he relaxed his jaw and allowed Jim to probe into his mouth with his tongue.

***

After Lasse had left the house again, after plugging in the jack hammer, Jim went back to work. He had gotten the hang of it, understood how to place the hammer so it would more easily bite into the concrete. It didn't take him more than an hour more to finish up breaking all of the concrete into smaller pieces. He used his wheelbarrow and a shovel to move the debris from the bathroom and into the backyard.

He measured the width and length of the room and made a rough draft on a piece of plasterboard. In his mind, he saw the finished bathroom for him, while he laid out where he wanted the vanity, the shower stall and the toilet. Then he added drainage pipes to the drawing and connected them to the existing downpipe. Finally, he drew in the water lines, the hot and cold pipes, and nearly as an afterthought, he placed a faucet right next to the toilet.

With a hose attached to that, it'll be easy for Lasse to flush out his arse. It'll be one thing less to worry about when the time comes.

The layout completed, Jim dug deeper into the dirt under the bathroom floor, made room for insulating Styrofoam pads that would make sure all of the underfloor heating in the bathroom would only go up and not down into the ground. He only stopped for the day when it was time to go home to his parents for dinner.

He returned the next morning, and resumed working from where he had ended up and by lunch time, the Styrofoam pads were in place, as well as the drainage pipes. All that was left to do, was to mix some new concrete with some of the bits he had torn out, and he poured it on top of the Styrofoam and the drainage pipes, securing both in place. He left a gap of about 8 cm [c. 3"], from the top of the rough concrete slab to where he wanted the finished floor to be. This gap was for the underfloor heating.

***

Lasse had spent a lot of time thinking of what Jim had told him about making new friends. Deep down, he wanted friends, real friends, but he just couldn't see any potential in the kids at his school. They didn't bother him, not anymore, letting everyone see his scar, his new haircut and his outburst in the cafeteria had made sure of that. He wasn't sure which of the three had made the most impact, but he didn't care much either. Jim's talking to Oscar had probably been the most effective of it all. The fat kid completely ignored him.

It was Friday and Lasse's school let out half an hour earlier than the other weekdays and he found himself walking the short stretch of road from the bus stop to Jim's house. Jim's house was closer to the bus stop than Lasse's house, but not in the same direction, so he couldn't use the shorter distance as an excuse to keep popping in at Jim's. He just wanted to be with the man and he wanted to see the progress of the bathroom.

It has to look better than it did yesterday. It was just a large hole in the ground then.

Then it downed on him, Jim didn't have a toilet anymore. He almost turned about face, he desperately needed a pee and if he went to Jim's, he'd have to do so outside. He was almost there, however, and it seemed stupid to double back to go pee at home only to walk to Jim's house again afterwards. If anyone saw him, they'd wonder what he was up to, walking the same stretch of the sidewalk several times.

He made up his mind and pressed on towards Jim's house.

***

Jim put the last finishing touches on the rough concrete in his guest bathroom, there wasn't anything more he could do to it until it hardened. Though he had used rapid hardening concrete, it would still take more than 12 hours to set enough for people to walk on it, and another three days to completely harden. He figured it would be okay to pour the finer grade concrete on top by Sunday.

He heard the knocks from his front door, checked the time and yelled for Lasse to enter. Lasse entered but only dropped his schoolbag right inside the front door and with a curt "Hi," he went out the back door into the garden. Jim took one last look at the concrete, decided it would harden on its own and went to see what Lasse was doing.

"Oh, you had to pour the water from the 'tatoes," he said, using an expression his old man always used to describe the act of urinating, and went to stand next to the young boy. He whipped out his own prick and joined in.

"Yeah, I told you the loos at school are real nasty," Lasse said and looked over at Jim's prick.

"Surely, they can't be so bad that you'd rather retain your pee for the entire day? It can't be healthy to do that."

"Trust me, they are. There are only three boys' restrooms with four stalls for the entire school and there's 775 pupils. Half of them are boys, so that's 360 something boys for 12 loos. You do the math."

"Okay, so there are 387.5 boys and 12 loos. So on average a toilet would have to be used by 32 boys. How many recesses do you have per day?"

"Four."

"So, it would have to be used 128 times per day, if every boy pees every recess. How long are the recesses?"

"First one is 15 minutes, lunch is 40, and the two afternoon recesses are 10 minutes."

"So you have 75 minutes in total? That's only about 30 seconds to take a leak and clean up after you."

"Which is why hardly anyone cleans up after them I guess. There isn't time for it. And think of it, what if you have to poo? You can't poo in thirty seconds flat and wipe and use the brush if something is left after you flush."

"No. I can see why the toilets would be filthy."

"It's like a loo in Afghanistan at the end of the day. I'm glad I'm not the one who has to clean them."

"What do you know about the loos of Afghanistan?"

"Nothing, but I'd imagine they'd look like the loos at my school."

"Fair enough. Done peeing?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you still flashing your little prick then, Lassie?"

Lasse blushed and began to tuck himself away when he felt Jim's hand on his, preventing him from doing so.

"No, leave it out. There's no one to see it, only me. Have you done any tugging on it lately?"

"No."

"No? Not at all? You haven't wanked your little peener since I did it for you?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Well. That's amazing. You've been saving it for me, Lassie? I'm flattered by that."

Lasse hadn't been saving himself for anyone, he just hadn't had a bath, only showers, after Jim had had given him the most wondrous and awesome sensation in his tummy. While he at the same time had almost squashed his nuts in the process.

"I think it's high time you had another cum. Let's go inside, so we won't disturb the neighbours with your squeals, but leave your prick hanging out. It's so cute."

Chapter 21

Lasse followed Jim into the construction site the man called a house. He wondered where he'd be having a cum, like Jim had called it, as there were no curtains in the house yet. Jim picked up a chair and went up the stairs, and Lasse followed him, with his prick still sticking its head out of the fly of his jeans.

"Up here nobody will able to watch us, cutie pie. And with the thick layer of insulation I've installed, I doubt anyone will hear you squeal either. It's also the cleanest part of the house," Jim explained and sat the chair down in the larger of the two rooms.

"Is this going to be your bedroom?" Lasse asked.

"In time, yes, but it'll look a little differently. Come spring, I'll get started on this floor. Until then, I'll just sleep in the little study downstairs, it'll be my temporary bedroom. Drop your jeans and undies, Lassie. Let me have a good look at you."

Lasse didn't argue, though it seemed like Jim wouldn't get undressed too. Neither did Lasse object to the feminized pet name he had been given. He had tried to object to it before and just gotten a lecture of how he was the girl in the relationship with the man. Though it was a very politically incorrect point of view, to Lasse girls were weak and boys were the stronger, more powerful beings, and men even more so. It was only natural to him that a girl would do as she was told by a boy or a man.

So Lasse slipped off his trainers, unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down his slim legs. His undies went the same way and he stood up.

"Lift up your coat a bit. Yes, that's what I mean. Turn around, let me see that little arse of yours," Jim said and moved the chair closer to Lasse. He sat on it and put his hands on the boy's butt, "You got one hell of a cute arse, Lassie."

"Thanks."

"Right, now sit on my lap with your legs spread."

Lasse took a backwards step and let himself be lifted up on Jim's lap. The man didn't waste much time before both of his hands were fondling Lasse's prick and nuts. He succumbed to the sensations, spread his knees even further apart and let the man touch him in ways he had been taught were bad. He didn't care, no one could see them. Not unless they'd climb up on the roof and have a look in through the sloped window, or they entered the house and walked up the stairs to them.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"I can tell, your peener is getting stiff. While I play with it, wet one of your fingers."

"What?"

"Make one of your fingers real wet with your spit."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to."

Jim waited until Lasse had sucked on his index finger for a minute or so, while he tugged and pulled on the little stiffy in his hand. The other hand did the same, only to the boy's small nut sack.

"Have you gotten it real wet?" He asked and Lasse held up his finger so he could see the spittle run down the length of it, "Good boy. Now, I want you to ever so gently push that finger against your arsehole. Put your feet up on top of my knees so it'll be easier for you to reach. Just tease your little hole for a bit until it starts to relax."

While Lasse tried to tease his bum hole, Jim began rolling the glans of his prick in between three fingers like he had done in the bathtub that first time.

"How's your arsehole feel? Starting to relax?" Jim asked after a couple of minutes had passed.

"Nuh-uh."

"Keep it up, make it wetter too. A girl's pussy is best when it's wet, I can only assume the same goes for a boy's."

Lasse moved his finger back to his mouth and without thinking he just stuck it right in to get more spit on it. Quickly he decided to push spit out from his mouth with his tongue instead. The taste of his bum hole sure wasn't nice. When the spit was about to fall from the tip of his finger, he quickly moved it back down to massage the opening to his bum. It was a strange but not entirely unpleasant feeling and he toyed with it, tried to figure out how to make it feel the best.

"Like it?"

"Yes. It's kinda weird to mess with my bum like this but it feels sorta nice."

"Wet your finger again. No, wet mine first, you can wet yours after."

Jim moved his hand that had been tugging on Lasse's nuts up to the boy's mouth. Lasse licked the finger, happy to do so, as it meant the slight pain from his nuts was absent. The only sensations came from his bum, which he still tickled, and his prick, which Jim still fondled.

"Let's see if I can't make your hole open up. Stay relaxed and just suck on your finger," Jim said and pushed his finger up against the boy's butthole, harder than Lasse had, but not so hard it was painful to him. It wasn't long until both of them could feel Jim's finger slipping just a little bit inside Lasse.

"Ack!" Lasse gasped from the sensation.

"Oh yeah, Lassie!" Jim exclaimed, "You're opening right up now. Like a bitch in heat," he pushed his finger a tad bit more into the still tight butthole and increased the intensity of his fingers rolling the little prick.

Jim pulled his finger back out and told Lasse to push his own finger into himself. Lasse would rather have played more with the outside of the opening, but pushed the finger wet from his spittle slowly inside. It didn't hurt, it just felt very strange, so he kept pushing until he couldn't push anymore. He had run out of finger.

"Boy, I can't believe how easily you just did that," Jim stated when he used a couple of his fingers to estimate how much Lasse had gotten inside of him. Instead of the expected 1 or 2 cm [c. 0.4 - 0.8"], he found Lasse's finger pushed inside to the very knuckle, "Is there anything you cannot do? That you're not a born-natural at?"

"Lots. I can't run, or play footy or…" Lasse began.

"No, never mind all that now, Lassie. We'll discuss those things some other time. Pull your finger out a bit, then push it back in."

"'K."

"How's it feel?"

"Bloody weird."

"Wet my finger again, I want to feel what it's like myself."

***

"I can't believe just how tight your hole is. But, I can move my finger relatively freely in and out of you. It doesn't hurt you at all?"

"Nuh. It's just weird. It makes me feel like I have to poo."

"When's the last time you had one?" Jim asked, suddenly alarmed.

"This morning."

"Oh, pheeeew," Jim exhaled deeply, "Then we should be safe. Let's stop while we're still ahead, eh?"

"Aww."

"I only mean I'll stop playing with your arse, Lassie. I don't want you to suddenly poo all over me. You can tickle your hole if you want to, just don't stick your finger inside of it anymore, okay? I'll tickle your prick until you moan sweetly to me again."

"Okay."

Lasse happily began playing with his butthole again and found it felt best to him if he just pushed his finger tip flat against the opening and only let the pulp of his finger push at the muscle. That, along with the sensation from his prick, and just a tad bit of the sharp tugging on his balls, made him moan out from pure joy. He simply couldn't help it. Though he at first was slightly embarrassed by his loud moans and gasps, he soon stopped worrying and just let loose.

Jim was astonished, again he couldn't believe his luck in having met a boy like Lasse. He couldn't even begin to fathom just how high the odds for something like that had to be. Mostly because Jim hadn't been looking for a boy at all. He had just minded his own business when Lasse had come to him. And now, the same boy was coming sitting on his lap! Shamelessly and boldly the little boy squealed and whimpered his joy out, just like he had done in the bathtub.

That alone is worth every last bit of the soreness in my fingers.

The women, Jim had been with sexually, had all seemed rather modest, almost shy when they came. Restricting themselves as if moaning too loudly would ruin their image.

If they didn't simply fake their orgasm! Well, not young Lassie here. I can feel his prick pulsate! And the wild bucking of his hips. Man, his little heart must be pumping for all it's worth.

Finally, Lasse slumped on Jim's lap. Fully relaxed, Jim had to hold him tight to prevent him from tumbling to the old worn floorboards. He kissed him on the top of his head, though only for a millisecond when he discovered the stickiness from the hair wax. Fortunately, Lasse had enough strength to tilt back his head so Jim could kiss him on his lips. It wasn't for long either, Lasse had to gasp air through his mouth, his nostrils too narrow to allow for the air flow required.

"So, lover boy. I guess I won't have to show you any porn movies with anal sex after all."

"Anal sex?"

"Butt sex. I can finger your arse now, and in time stretch it to accept my prick too."

"Stretch my bum?"

"Well, it won't stay stretched open, it'll pucker up nicely afterwards. But I have to make you accustomed to having something large inside of your hole for a longer time than it takes for you to poo."

"Oh. Can I get dressed now? I have to leave soon."

"Of course. Oh, you may want to wipe your butt when you get home. Nah, just hand me your undies, I'll wipe your butt for you. They'd just end up soiled anyway if you put them on now."

Jim didn't just wipe Lasse's bum, he clad his index finger in the fabric and pushed it against the boy's hole. He didn't let up on the pressure until the first phalanx of his finger had embedded itself in the boy. When he pulled out his finger, the underwear remained inside and he had to tug at it to get it back out.

"All clean now, Lassie."

"That felt really bad, Jim!"

"Sorry, but, have a look at your undies now. You were more than just a little dirty back there."

Lasse blushed when he had a quick look at his undies. They looked worse than any pair of underwear of his he could remember having seen. He wasn't at all sad to see them confiscated by Jim who put them into his pocket.

"If you keep stealing my undies, I'll have to keep an extra pair in my schoolbag!" He said when he put his left foot into the leg of his jeans.

"Hah," Jim laughed, "No, my dear Lassie, I'm only borrowing them. I'll wash the other pair I got and give them back to you. We can't have your mam wondering what's happening to your underwear."

"What're you doing with them?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"You're not going to lick at those too?"

"That's privileged information, Lassie."

"Ugh! You are! Pervert!"

"Mind your language now, Lassie."

"Heh."

"There's a good lad. Listen, tomorrow, I'll be here from seven. The contractor told me the first guy will show up around that time."

"Can I come watch? I won't get in the way of them, I promise."

"You'll be helping me with the walls of the bathroom, remember? You'll be part of the work crew."

"Cool!"

"Yup, so wear your old jeans and a top that can be dirtied without your mam giving me a lot of heat about it."

"Gotcha. I'll be here at seven too."

"You don't have to be here so early."

"But I want to."

"Okay, it's a deal then."

"Bye Jim," Lasse said, then added with a twinkle in his eyes, "Oh, should I bring an extra pair of undies tomorrow?"

"You better do that, Lassie. Just in case," Jim replied with a smile.

"Okay. See you."

"I can't hardly wait. Say hi to your mam for me."

"Will do."

***

"Hi mum! I've started on dinner," Lasse said when he saw her walk into the kitchen.

"Hi yourself. So soon?"

"Yes. I have to go to bed way early tonight."

"Oh? But it's Friday."

"Yep, and tomorrow it's Saturday and I have to be at Jim's house at seven. He says hi, by the way. So I gotta get up early and since I gotta do that, I need to go to bed early, too."

"Really? Did he tell you to be at his house at seven?"

"No. I said I would be there at seven myself. I'm going to help him build his bathroom. Only, it'll be for his guests, so I don't s'pose you can say it's his bathroom. Though it's in his house, so in a way it is his bathroom, too."

"Slow down. You always talk so fast when you get excited. So, why so early in the morning?"

"Because, he has people coming over to help him with putting this really long, it's like a five kilometres [c. 3 miles] freaking long hose, uh heating hose, I mean, into his house. I wanna watch, though he told me I'd be helping with the bathroom walls. Cool, in'it?"

"I think he's asking an awful lot of you, Lasse. You're only ten years old. You shouldn't be working, you should be having fun!"

"I am too having fun! And I feel all important and stuff. And, and useful! Like I'm making a difference by helping him."

"Alright then. Just promise me you'll say no if he tells you to do something you feel like you can't do, okay? It's alright for you to tell him no."

Yeah right! As if.

"I do tell him no, at times," Lasse said. Indeed he had, but it hadn't meant anything to Jim. It didn't matter none to Lasse either, Jim was his friend, and he treated Lasse like he was older and more capable than just a little weak kid, like his mum thought.

Which I am! More capable than mum thinks.

"So, what are we having?"

"Pasta and 'sghetti sauce."

"Ooh, my favourite food. Well, it seems like you've got it all covered, I'll go get changed."

"Yup. Dinner will be ready in, uh, twelve minutes, precisely!"

"Lovely."

***

Lasse went to bed at eight that evening, earlier than any Friday evening ever since he had turned six.

He couldn't fall asleep, his mind kept him up. His thoughts kept running circles, he thought about what phone he'd get, if it would be a good one, It had better be a good one! If his mum was really right about it being okay to say no, and if Jim would actually listen if only he said it strongly enough, what it would feel like when Jim would stick his prick, his humongous prick into his little tight bum and not just his finger, if it would feel nice, or if he'd scream from pain.

Then his thoughts went to how he had shouted at Ivar, who according to Jim wasn't really to blame for not wanting to befriend him much sooner, Jim who by then more than likely was licking at his, Lasse's, poo-smeared undies, while doing some kind of devilish ritual, it just had to be something vile, maybe Jim was really a warlock, an evil wizard who gained power from licking at little kids' soiled underwear…

***

Jim wasn't in the middle of some malicious and forbidden ritual, he was simply walking Bella. It had been ages since the last time he had had the pleasure of taking his dog for a walk, and he had taken her in his car to a long and wide meadow. There she could run around unleashed and sniff at whatever she wanted, while Jim walked in a more civilized pace. Bella didn't venture too far, every 20 or 30 seconds she'd stop and look for him, then carry on.

When Bella had been just a puppy, Jim had trained with her. First with a long leash, then without. Every single time he'd whistle or call out her name, she'd stop whatever it was she was doing and run as quickly as her four legs would carry her right to where Jim was. If Jim hid from her, which he often did, she'd go to the spot where she had last seen him, then track him down.

And so, Jim wasn't worried when he walked in his own thoughts, reminiscing the day, though he kept returning to one specific event, the one where he had sat with a squealing Lasse on his lap. It didn't take much of an imagination to think one more step ahead to where Lasse, again squealing from joy, sat in Jim's lap with his large prick fully inserted into his little, hot, strangling and twitching arsehole. Jim still hadn't washed the finger that had been inside of Lasse and he took another long sniff at it.

Chapter 22

Saturday morning, both Lasse and Jim were up earlier than anyone else in their respective households. Both man and boy were preparing for the day, got into their work clothes and made sure they had what else they'd need for an entire day away from home. Both amassed their money, and though the weight of Lasse's money by far outdid the weight of Jim's, the boy only had about a tenth of what Jim had. Mostly because Lasse's fortune only consisted of coins; Three years' worth of pocket money that had never been exchanged for much easier to carry notes.

Unlike Jim, Lasse couldn't put his money into one of his pockets, it wouldn't have fitted into all four pockets in his jeans, and if he had tried to fill his pockets, he wouldn't have been able to put on the tight jeans. Instead he put them into a clear, reinforced plastic bag meant for freezing stuff in. When he was just about to leave his house, he thought better than walking to Jim's carrying all of his money in a bag, that made it far too easily seen by anyone, he might meet along the way. So he put the smaller bag into a shopping bag, along with an extra pair of underwear.

Jim arrived at his house at 6:54 to find two of his temporary workers already there. He knew them both, one better than the other, since only the day before he had had his finger buried to the hilt inside of his tight arsehole. The other worker was the one guy who had adviced for Jim to fix his leaking roof before anything else. They all greeted each other, Lasse hugged Jim in front of the older, more experienced worker, who wasn't offered, nor looking for, a hug by either of the two.

"So, you also do underfloor heating?" Jim asked the other man.

"I'm sort of the go-to guy for any small odd job, really. So, yes, placing out insulation pads for underfloor heating is something I know how to do. Did they give you a plan along with all the materials?"

"Yes, though I can't really tell which way is up or what all the lines mean."

"I'll have a look at what materials you have, the plan and your house. Just to make sure you have what it takes before we all get started working only to find out we don't have what it takes to finish the job."

"That is excellent. I must warn you, I've only poured the concrete for the bathroom floor yesterday and the plan doesn't reflect the changes I've made to it."

"As long as you have the cement and something to mix it with, we'll sort it. Did you get reinforcement mesh for the bathroom floor?"

"Shit, I knew I had forgotten something."

"The DIY centre won't open until ten. Though, I have an idea, if you don't mind that espalier gone, I can take it down and use it."

"That old rusty mesh? Will it hold?"

"Sure, it isn't like a motorway bridge after all."

"Go ahead, take it down. It isn't like there are any old nice roses growing up the wall, anyway."

"You got it. Well, I know what to do now."

"Okay. We'll work on the walls in the bathroom. Some of them anyway, those that won't need water lines installed in them."

"If you want to save a bit of money for the plumber, I have a good length of PVC pipes in the back of my car. It's the same they'll be installing, but we can do it cheaper and faster. We'll mark the ends and let them hang out of the wall and they can hook right up to them and install the fittings and stuff for the faucets and whatnot."

"You'll have time for that too?"

"It won't take long, an hour tops to run the pipes. Just a bit of drilling through the studs and making sure the PVC pipes have room to expand a little so it won't sound like your walls are constantly creaking when you turn on the hot water. Yeah, an hour, there about."

"That would be awesome. Me and my best friend here, we have an important thing to do and have to leave around nine or so and we'll return about ten thirty."

"We'll run the pipes there, then."

***

"Okay, Mr expert-plasterboard-cutter. Like you can see, these plasterboards here, they're green instead of light grey. It means they are waterproof, to a certain degree anyway. But it's only if the paper is intact. One little scratch in it, and the board is no good anymore. They also cost like four times as much as the regular plasterboards, so be careful when you cut them, okay?"

"Wouldn't it be better if you cut them yourself, Jim," Lasse asked uncertainly.

"No. I'm really no better with a utility knife than you are, Lasse."

Lasse noted Jim's use of his proper name, it sounded strange to him as he had gotten somewhat used to being called Lassie by Jim. They weren't alone now, which had to be why Jim was talking to him like he was just a regular boy.

"Okay then. I'll try. But don't yell at me, if I mess up."

"I won't. Anyway, these boards have to be cut pretty darn accurately, too. There should be a gap of exactly 5 mm [0.2"] at both top and bottom, which I'll later fill with a bead of silicone. That'll make everything completely watertight. Now, as you can see, the bathroom floor isn't quite finished yet. But I've marked all the studs with a line, that's where the top of the tiles will end up being. It's a bit backwards, putting up the walls before the floor, but since we have to get it done today, that's just what he have to do."

"Cool. Thanks again, Jim."

"Oh, I keep my promises, Lasse," Jim said, and added in a whisper, "All of them!"

"I get it. At least I can count on you when you say you're going to do something."

"You can bet on it. Start out by measuring how long the first board needs to be, starting from that corner there. Mind you, the floor slopes and the cut will need to match the angle. While you do that, I'll mark where the water lines will need to go and then I'll help you."

"Okay," Lasse agreed to the plan, then had a look at the wall, "Do you have a ladder?"

"Yes, there's a stepladder in the kitchen. Be careful where you put it, the floor is somewhat uneven in places in here."

"Gotcha."

***

When Lasse wristwatch told him it was 9:00, the two of them had clad two walls with the green plasterboards. Two walls still remained, waiting for the PVC flexible pipes to be installed. Two more builders had joined the first and progress on the underfloor heating was rapidly moving forward. Already, all of the kitchen, the hallway, half of Jim's study/temporary bedroom and the lounge was covered in aluminium-covered Styrofoam pads, with channels routed into them for the heating hose.

What remained was cutting pads to size which took longer than simply placing them on the floor and mating them together. The pads also had to be glued in place, once all of them had been test fitted for the proper routing of the heating hose. Still, Jim was positively surprised by how quickly the new underfloor heating went in, as opposed to ripping out the floors and pouring new ones.

And supposedly, it'll be even faster to warm up the house this way, which means it'll cost less money for heating.

"Are you ready, Lasse?" He asked the eager boy.

"Uh-huh. I just have to get my money," Lasse said and went for his shopping bag. He was worried when he couldn't find it where he had put it. All he could see was a shiny Styrofoam pad lying on the floor in its place.

"Jim? Have you seen my shopping bag?" He asked loudly.

"Is this it, kid?" One of the workers asked and had a look inside of it.

"Yes! That's it. No, don't peek into it, it's private!"

"What's the big deal, kid? There's only a bag of coins and a handkerchief. No, that's not a handkerchief, that's… Hey, do you always take a spare pair of drawers with you wherever you go?"

"That's none of your concern," Jim said coldly.

"Well, excuse me. It just isn't something I'd exp…"

"Lasse sometimes has accidents, okay? Not every day, but some days. Ever since his open heart surgery. So enough of your impertinence, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Kid, I'm truly sorry for my rude behaviour. I didn't know. And it really is none of my business."

Lasse just took his shopping bag from the builder who went back to cutting the pad he had been working on, even more vigorously than before.

***

"Accidents?" Lasse cried out when they were sitting alone in the car, "You had to tell him I have fucking accidents? Couldn't you have thought of something else to tell them?"

"I'm sorry, Lassie. It was the best plausible explanation I could come up with."

"But, right now they're wondering if I piss or shit myself."

"Or both. Who cares what they think? You won't ever see them again after today."

"I care! I'm not a fucking baby."

"That's not what I told them, remember? What would you have told them?"

"I don't know. Not that I had accidents, that's for bloody damn sure."

"Lassie, moderate your language, please. You've obviously been around me and the builders for too long. It's okay for adults to use swear words, but not for small boys who have accidents still."

"I DO NOT have accidents."

"Not even a little pee stain? What's a man to do then?"

"A man will have to stop licking at a boy's undies. That's so gross! Why are you talking like that anyway?"

"Haven't you watched Game of Thrones?"

"No. I'm too little according to mum. Do they lick at underwear in it?"

"Haha!" Jim laughed heartily, "No, Lassie. They sure don't. But there's a man who talks like that. Exactly how you just told me I'll have to stop licking your undies."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And that won't happen!"

"You said you'd lick my bum."

"Yuck and eww! That's gross!" Jim said in a voice he hoped matched that of Lasse's.

"I think so too. But you said you would."

"You want me to, Lassie?"

"What? Lick my bum?"

"Yes."

"Uh. Maybe. But I won't kiss you after."

"If I lick your butthole, I'm going to kiss you for half an hour right after."

"Yuck!"

"Ah, that's how you say it. Yuck!"

"Uh-huh. Well, you had better lick my bum real good then."

"Oh, I will."

"What level is that?"

"Five."

"So, I've just gotten to level four and I got to swallow more of that yucky clear stuff from your prick. Is that all I gotta do to get to level five?"

"You sure seem interested in having your yucky bum licked."

"Seriously, now."

"Okay. No, it isn't. Level four is also where you'll have to suck on my prick and eat my pre-cum, before you go to level five where I'll lick your yucky smelly bum. You will still have to keep doing the stuff you did at all the previous levels. Kissing, wanking, eating my pre-cum, and letting me stick my finger up your bum."

"That was so weird. But it didn't hurt."

"See? I told you it wouldn't."

"You made me suck on my finger after it had been in my bum."

"I only wanted you to make it wet again. You stuck it in your mouth. You could have just spat at it."

"I didn't want to risk spitting on your floor."

"I don't care about the old floor upstairs. It'll be different when it's all new."

"So I can spit on it?"

"Sure. Just don't pee or poo on it."

"Arh! I don't have accidents!"

"You're so cute when you're all wound up like this, Lassie. Kick back a little, relax. Recline the seat some, you're sitting up straight as if you were sitting on an old bench."

"If I don't sit like this, I can't see out the windows. I'd get carsick."

"Then don't recline your seat. That's one kind of accident I seriously do not like. I can't stomach the smell of sick!"

***

"Uh, no offense, Lassie. But you better just leave your sack of coins in the car. It isn't a fairy tale where the knight walks into a tavern and asks for a cup of mead and pays for it with two gold coins. They wouldn't accept payment in so many coins."

"Then what?"

"I'll pay for you, then you give me your sack of coins and come Monday I'll take it to the bank to have it exchanged into notes. Put the bag under the seat so it can't be seen from the outside."

"Thank you, Jim!"

"Don't mention it. Let's go in that store and find a super phone for you."

When they entered the store, an outlet for one of the largest telecom companies in Denmark, Lasse was gobsmacked by the rows upon rows of portable phones, smartphones, tablets and accessories. He was immediately drawn towards the Apple section and the iPhone was what he went to first. He picked it up and held it to his ear, taking care not to rip it from the security cable. He swiped the screen, like he had seen others do, but it only asked for a pin code.

"Jim!" He said eagerly.

"Yes? Oh, no, Lasse. Put that back. There's no way you're getting an iPhone."

"Why not? It's super cool. I like the design."

"Maybe so, but you can't afford it."

"Aw. Darn it."

"Let's go check out Samsung. They make real nice phones too."

"That's the one you have?"

"Yes. But they make a lot of different models."

"May I help you?" A young man dressed in a white shirt with a name tag, telling everyone who cared to read it, that his name was Steffen.

"Yes, Steffen," Jim said, having learned long ago that if you want proper assistance, it went a long way to address the person you wanted help from by their name, "Young Lasse here is looking for his first ever phone."

"I see. Hello, Lasse. What kind of phone do you want?"

"A smartphone. One that has a good camera, big screen and one I can play games on."

"Okay, there are a lot of smartphones which will honour those requirements. Why don't you have a look around, while I talk to your dad?"

"He's just…"

"Scoot now, son. You heard Steffen."

"Yes, Jim!"

"Funny fellow, your son," Steffen told Jim when Lasse was out of earshot, "Anyway, sir, what price range do you have in mind? It'll help me narrow down the phones to demonstrate for your son."

"Around 2000."

"Is that a fixed limit?"

"Keep it below 2600, that's the rock-hard limit, but don't discuss prices when Lasse can hear us."

"I understand, it's meant to be a gift for him. Let me find a small selection and I'll line them up at the desk you see right over there. It'll only take me five minutes."

"Thank you, Steffen."

"My pleasure, sir."

Jim went to locate Lasse who had walked back to the iPhone he had first fiddled with and was now trying to hack his way past the annoying pin code.

"Lasse, I told you not to look at that phone. It costs too much, the camera is shit and the button you see there? It breaks if you talk too sternly to it. Steffen is rounding up phones for you, so let's go look at the accessories, shall we?"

"Okay, dad," Lasse giggled at the word.

"I know, I know. It's better he thinks I'm your father rather than just a friend of yours."

They went to look at headsets and Lasse picked out one that didn't cost too much and still sat comfortable on his head. He didn't question why he needed one, simply trusted Jim when he said he had to get one. They walked to the desk where Steffen had lined up six phones. All of them had some kind of unacceptable issue that either Jim or Lasse pointed out.

"I'm sorry, sir, but these are the best ones I have that are within the price limit. I have better ones, but they are more expensive."

"Let us have a moment, please."

"Certainly, sir."

"Lasse, why don't you have another look at that one there? I know it's a Huawei, but it has pretty decent specs."

"It's not a Samsung. If I can't have an iPhone, then it gotta be a Samsung. But not that one there, it's for babies! The camera sucks and it doesn't have that what-did-you-call-it-detector in it."

"Well…"

"Let me see your phone."

"Mine? Lasse, it's more than you can afford."

"Just let me see it okay?"

"Okay. But don't call anyone! It has all of my clients in the contacts list. And don't you dare change anything."

Jim unlocked his phone and handed it over to Lasse. Then sought out Steffen.

"I'm afraid my son is extremely picky, Steffen. He doesn't want any of the phones you've managed to find for him."

"That is a problem, sir. What phone is he looking at now?"

"Oh, that's mine. It's an A5."

"That's a nice phone. Long battery life, big clear screen and a good camera. But the price tag is well beyond the limit you set, I'm afraid."

"I know. Uh, Steffen. Don't you sometimes take in phones that need repairs under warranty and give the customer a replacement phone instead?"

"We do, sir. Would you be interested in a refurbished phone?"

"Well, it's just a thought for now. What kind of warranty comes with such a phone?"

"Oh, it's the same as a brand new phone. The full two years limited warranty from the date of purchase, regardless of prior purchase date."

"And it's just like a new phone? It's been reset and all that? There's no telling someone has had it before?"

"Not at all. The original packaging and manuals may be missing, but all the parts come with the phone. And the manual can be downloaded from our website."

"Take a good look at my kid, does he look like he'll need a manual?"

"Uh, no sir, he doesn't, now that you mention it. Do you want me to see if we have a refurbished Galaxy A5 in stock?"

"Please. I know it isn't the ideal starter phone, but the interface can be altered to a beginner's level, if I'm right?"

"That's right. A lot of elderly people enjoy the simplified interface. It should work for your son, too."

"And the price?"

"I'm sure I'll be able to meet your demands. I may not have it here at this store, but I'll see what we have in nearby stores."

"Thanks."

Jim went back to Lasse, who had found the internet browser on Jim's phone and was busy checking out the bookmarks the man had saved.

"So, you little spy, what do you think of my phone?"

"It's cool. But you don't have any bookmarks worth looking at. Only bank this and bank that."

"I use it primarily for work. Would you like a phone like mine?"

"But, I thought…?"

"That it would be too expensive? Well, I talked to Steffen. He's trying to work out a deal just for you. There's no packaging and no manual, but you wouldn't need that, would you?"

"Nah. Is that why it's cheaper?"

"Sure is. Seems like water flooded one of the shipping containers and ruined the packaging on some of the phones. But, not to worry, this phone can survive under water for at least 30 minutes. And they come wrapped in plastic so the phone is perfectly fine. Only problem is we may have to drive to another store to pick it up or maybe have it mailed to you."

"Aw. I was hoping to get it today. I've really been looking forward to it."

"I know. Maybe we're lucky. Let's go see if he has found one for you."

"Well, I'm afraid we don't have one here. However, in Roskilde, they do have one. It was a little more than your limit, but I've managed to chip off a little of the price by talking to my superior. With the headset, it'll come to exactly the price you told me, sir."

"Excellent. Can we pay here and then pick it up in Roskilde?"

"Yes. I'll call them and have them prepare everything for you. What about a sim card? Do you have one already or would you like to start a contract, perhaps?"

"For now, we'll take a prepaid card. I want to monitor my son's usage for a while before I let him lose on a contract."

"We have contracts made specifically with children in mind, sir?"

"That may be so, but we'll just have the prepaid one, please."

"Very well, sir. You won't be able to choose the phone number, though."

"That's okay. I'm sure Lasse won't mind."

"I won't, dad."

***

Back in the car, now heading towards Roskilde from Ballerup, a 20 minute trip by motorway, Lasse asked Jim what the difference between a prepaid card and a contract was.

"With a prepaid card, you have to pay per minute. Like I paid 100 kroner just now, that's 100 minutes you can use your phone to talk to someone, if you're the one to call them. If they call you, then it won't deduct from your minutes. If you send a text, it'll take away a little of the time you can talk, like 10 seconds or so. If you access the internet, like you just did from my phone, then it'll cost a lot of minutes in a very short time. But, the phone you're getting can access the internet via Wi-Fi like your Xbox.

"So, we'll set it up to only be able to access the internet via Wi-Fi, and you're not to tamper with that setting. That's a rule I made with your parents. Well, they insisted on it, but it's a good rule in my opinion. We'll make it so you can access the internet from your house and mine. Now, the contract or subscription plan he wanted me to accept means you'd have unlimited time to talk, unlimited texts and 20 gigs of data per month."

"That sounds a lot better."

"Well, there's a catch. No matter how much or how little you'll be using your phone, they'll want 249 kroners per month for it. That's how they make most of their money and why Steffen back there was so keenly trying to make me agree to it."

"I only get 50 kroner per month in pocket money now."

"Which is why I turned him down. The money for the prepaid card comes out of your pocket money as well. So don't go crazy calling everyone you know. Consider the first 100 kroner I put on the card as a salary for all your help around the house so far. Actually, I had to chip in a bit of extra money to get you your phone, but that isn't important. What is important is we're now on the way to pick up your first phone. It's waiting for you."

Chapter 23

"What's refurbished mean?" Lasse asked when they were back in the car, heading to Jim's house. He had read the word on the red sticker that held the clear plastic bag closed tightly around his new phone. He hadn't yet unpacked it, since Jim had said they were running late.

"It means it's been checked. Maybe something inside of it has been swapped out for a new part, but it will work just as fine as if it had just come off the assembly line."

"Ah. Can I open it now?"

"Yes. Mind the little key thing in the bag. You need it for putting in the sim card. When you've put it in, turn on your phone and enter the pin code. I'll change it for you later, if you don't like the code it has now."

"Nah, it's fine. It's almost the same as the one for the alarm at my house."

***

Before they left the car to enter Jim's house, Jim made a new contact on Lasse's phone and called his own phone from it.

"No worries, Lassie. I didn't answer and I hung up before it would be redirected to my voice mail. You still have all 100 minutes left to talk. Let's see, create new contact from phone number, enter name, L, a, s, s, e and next… Why I'll be damned, see what the spell checker changed what I typed in for your name to?"

"What? Your phone thinks my name's Lassie too?" Lasse asked when he had seen the name on the display.

"Yup. I didn't type that, I swear. But, I'll leave it like it is. If anyone should ever hear me call you Lassie, we have a good valid excuse for it. Here, smile a pretty smile at me so I can take a picture of you."

Lasse smiled, Jim took a snapshot of his face and quickly linked it to the new entry in his contacts.

"There we go," Jim said and opened the car door.

"Wait. I want a picture of you, too. Fair's fair and all."

"Okay."

"Don't make faces at me, just smile… Thanks. What do I do now?"

Jim showed him how to edit the contact entry and add the picture from the photo album on the phone. When he had finished, he called Lasse's phone so the boy could hear and see what to expect.

"It's a cool phone, Jim, but I don't like the ringtone."

"I'm sure you can figure out how to change it yourself. If you can't, I'll show you next time we hang out."

"Okay. Thanks a lot!"

"Let's go in and check up on the builders' progress. If they've sat and relaxed for the entire time we've been gone, I won't be pleased at all."

***

The three builders were on a break when boy and man entered the house, but Jim could easily tell they hadn't been on a break for the two hours they had been alone. All of the aluminium covered-Styrofoam pads had been cut to size and had been glued in place on the floors. The piping in the bathroom was complete, they had even drilled through the outside wall to the boiler room and ran the piping all the way there. The individual PVC pipes were marked at either end, making sure it would be an easy task for the plumber to continue working on them.

The reinforced mesh once used as an espalier, was now lying on the bathroom floor with heater hose in a big loop zip-tied to it.

"I only have to pressure test it now, and then we can start pouring the top layer of concrete whenever you're ready for it, Jim."

"Perfect. Oh, how long will it be from you've poured the floor until it's safe to walk on it?"

"Probably 36 hours. I wouldn't tile it until at least a couple of weeks from now. And no heating until then either. You don't want the concrete to dry too quickly or it'll crack."

"Okay. 36 hours, if you pour it at four, it should still be okay for the plumber to go in by Monday morning."

"Sure thing. I'll pressure test it now, and then I'll go help installing the heating hose in the kitchen. We'll start pouring there, then work our way back out the house. It'll just be a thin layer of the self-levelling concrete so it'll harden in 24 hours. If we get it all poured today, we'll return in the afternoon tomorrow for the finishing touches and all will be set for Monday morning."

"Outstanding! Well, Lasse, you and I have our work cut out for us, we have to finish the walls of the bathroom by four."

"Yup. Piece of cake."

"You think? I hope so."

***

When they all left Jim's house that day at 17:30 the bathroom walls were done, at least the sides facing into the bathroom, the underfloor heating hoses had been installed and all of the concrete had been poured. The surface of the bathroom floor had been carefully nursed and sloped exactly how it had to in order for water spillage to go to the drain in the shower stall.

Jim hoped and prayed for everything being in order, instinctively he wanted to stay and keep an eye on things, but knew he wouldn't be able to speed up the hardening and curing process by watching it. The house was off-limits anyway, unless he could somehow find a way to avoid walking on the hardening concrete poured on all floors.

They had popped most windows open a crack to vent the house, so the escaping moisture from the hardening concrete wouldn't ruin Jim's new plasterboard walls. It wasn't a problem leaving the windows open, there wasn't anything of real value in the house yet, nothing that wasn't either nailed or screwed in.

Jim and Lasse parted with the builders, who agreed to return the next day at 15:45 to make sure the concrete had set properly and to smoothen out any unevenness they might discover.

"What time do you have to be home today, Lassie? I never asked you."

"Uh, I dunno. I never asked mum. Want me to call her?"

"Well, it might be better if I just take you home now. You've been out all day long."

"I won't be able to see you at all tomorrow."

Jim squatted until his eyes were level with Lasse's, before he started talking, "I know Lassie. I want to spend all my time with you as much as you want to stick around me, if not even more so. We made a deal, though. Remember?"

"Uh-huh. I have to spend time with mum and dad too," Lasse said gloomily.

"That's right. If you don't, they'll start to wonder why you want to spend so much of your time with me and they will start asking you questions you won't be able to answer truthfully. Your dad's a copper, he'll see right through it. At some time you'll end up telling them the truth just to get off the hook. That we've been kissing and doing other things. If that was to happen, I'd go to prison and you'd have to talk to people you don't know and tell them all we've ever done," Jim took in a deep breath of air.

"They'll keep talking to you until they make you believe everything we've ever done together was wrong. That I've been nothing but a bad man doing things to you that nobody should. That I've only befriended you to gain your trust so that I could abuse and hurt you without you wanting to tell anyone about it."

"Is that why we're friends? So you can abuse me?"

"No. Well, maybe it is. I bloody wish to God, I could say I'd still want to be your friend without wanting to have sex with you ever again, but I can't. You've done something that changed me. Ever since I was your age, okay, ever since I was 13, I've only wanted to have sex with women. Then you came along and I was instantly brought back to when I was only a ten years old boy being very curious about other boys' bodies.

"I had a friend back then, a real close friend. I wanted to touch his prick, I wanted to touch him all over, but he didn't want me to. I lost that friend because of it and I never thought about touching another boy again. Not until two weeks ago when an obnoxious little kid told me how I had gotten the words mixed up when I sang my favourite song. I don't know exactly when it happened or how, but you've reignited my curiosity. It's burning inside of my body and I now crave to do things to you I didn't even know about when I was a young boy myself."

"So you won't be my friend any longer?"

"I do want to, Lasse. But I can't look at you without wanting to do stuff to you that a lot of people think is so very wrong."

"But, if I let you do those things, we can still be friends?"

"Yes. But, we can't spend so much time together it'll make your parents worried. I'll try to think of something so we can explain why you'll be at my house so often. Hopefully, they'll soon grow so used to it that they think it's only second-nature. And I won't befriend you simply because you let me have sex with you. I promise, we'll be doing a lot more normal things than just having sex all of the time."

"Oh."

"You sound almost disappointed?"

"Huh? No, it's just… I don't know. I, uh, I kinda liked gaining levels. It was just like a game, y'know? Me getting better and stronger."

"We'll still be playing that game. You'll gain levels, as many as you'd like, but it won't be the only thing we do together, it won't be the main reason for our friendship. I want to… Hell, I want to improve your life. That's it! I want to make sure the rest of your childhood will be a great time for you. You've experienced a very tragic event early in your life but that doesn't mean you can't ever be happy again."

"I'm happy when I'm with you."

"I'm glad to hear it, Lasse, but I really want you to be happy all of the time, well, most of it anyway. Not just when you're with me. Let's go to your house. Mine is all useless for now. I want to talk to your mam, alone. You can play with your phone and get it set up just the way you want it to be, while I talk to her, okay?"

"Okay, Jim. Heh, you called me Lasse."

"I did? I guess I slipped, eh? Oh well, I'll still call you Lassie when I feel like it."

"Darn!"

"If you really don't like it, I guess I could try to remember to use your real name all of the time."

"Nah, it's okay. As long as you won't ever call me Lassie when someone else hears it."

"I'll do my absolute best. I already told you so. Come, I want to discuss something with your mam before I forget what it is I want to say."

***

"I would rather had you told me Lasse was being bullied than attempting to deal with it yourself, Jim."

"I had the impression he had already told you and that what you did only made things worse. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't stand to see your son being unhappy one more time. He darned near cried when he told me about it the last time."

"What did you do to end it?" Hilda asked.

"I had a talk with the instigator of the bullying. A heavy set kid by the name of Oscar. I simply explained what his bullying did to Lasse and he told me he was sorry and wouldn't do it again."

"Somehow, I fear you did more than just talk to him. But I won't ask. Some things are better left unsaid."

"My thoughts exactly. Anyway, I've had some talks with Lasse over the time he's been hanging out with me and he told me he isn't being bullied anymore. And after that haircut of his, a kid began talking to him."

"Finally, then all is well…"

"Unfortunately and quite sadly; no, all isn't well, not at all. Lasse told the kid to, uh, I don't want to use his exact wording, but he told him to mind his own business and leave him alone. Lasse thought the kid was a coward because he didn't want to talk to him when Oscar and others were still bullying him."

"Well, he does have a point…"

"Yes, he does. But instead of talking to the kid and maybe making a new friend, Lasse just told him to fu… Well, walk away. I think your son, and I'm not passing any kind of judgement on you or Dennis, is feeling very insecure of himself. He seriously lacks self-esteem. As you know, he's been helping me renovate my house, doing small things that any boy his age should be able to do, with or without a heart disorder. It hasn't been physically demanding at all…"

"Yes, about that, I really don't appreciate you expecting him to get up at six o'clock on a Saturday morning so he can be at your house at seven."

"I never asked him to, I only told him that would be when some friends of mine would be arriving to help me. He wanted to be there at the same time. He pretty much demanded I'd let him."

"Okay. So he's been a good little helper?"

"A very good helper. I honestly couldn't have done all the things we've done on my own. I added a little money so he could buy the phone he has now. Don't tell him that, however. I don't want him to think I'll be buying him stuff all of the time."

"Didn't I write that in the rules you agreed to? That there would be no money between the two of you? That you wouldn't be giving him little gifts all the time?"

"You did, which I haven't. I wanted to give him something in return for the many hours he has helped me, though. It's not like I'm going to take him to amusement parks every weekend or treat him to burgers or pizzas every time he visits. But, I do want to take him places, free stuff, so I can add to his self-esteem. I want to help you make Lasse turn in to a happy kid instead of a sullen loner only having fun playing his Xbox alone."

"Are you accusing me of being a bad parent?"

"No! Hilda, not at all. And I'm not suggesting I take over from you, that isn't possible, no one can replace a kid's real parents. But I do want to spend as much time as I possibly can with Lasse, until he starts believing in himself. Surely, you must have been able to detect a little change for the better in him by now?"

"Well, he did cook for me last night. He's never done that before. And he was excited, very excited to be going to your house today."

"Okay. Will you consider letting Lasse spend Wednesday afternoons and evenings with me? And perhaps spend the night at my house, when it's ready of course, during one or maybe two weekends per month? As a kind of relief parent or something."

"I don't know what to think of that. What will you be doing with my son? What's in it for you? What's your motivation?"

"I get to experience the world through a ten year-old's eyes again, which is priceless. As to what we'll be doing? We might go for a long walk with my dog, watch a movie, and do small activities that'll boost his confidence while we're having fun. And mine too, for that matter."

"You seem more than confident enough to me."

"Well, I took a big blow about three years ago when the love of my life cheated on me and turned out to be someone completely different to what I thought she was. I thought she'd mother my children and we'd grow old together, but all she ever wanted was to live the wild life. I found out a bit too late and she really broke my heart and I lost a lot of my self-esteem. I don't know why or how, but Lasse has helped me regain some of it."

"So, it wouldn't just be for his sake?"

"Honestly? No. There'd be something in it for me as well. That's my motivation."

"Well, I can't make that decision on my own. I will talk to Dennis about it when he gets home from work. He had to take another shift today."

"The police in this country is really understaffed. I wanted to be a police officer when I was a kid, fortunately my dream never came true. But, please do talk to Dennis when you can. If you'd prefer, I'll be more than happy to talk to you both about it."

"Oh, I think it'll be better if Dennis and I talk first. We don't always see things the same way. I'll let you know."

"Thank you. I'll just say bye to Lasse then I'll be on my way. It's been a very long day."

"It must have been. How is the house coming along?"

"Still a ways to go, but not as bad as it was when I bought it. I still have a bathroom and the kitchen to install, a little drywall to finish installing and then a whole lot of wallpaper to put up. Lots of finishing touches too. Then I can move in."

"I'm glad it isn't me. Where are you staying now?"

"I moved back in with my parents after the breakup. Trust me, I'm anxious to move back out again."

"I believe you. Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow or Monday about your plans for my son. I think it might be good for him to spend time away from his room, but I need to discuss it with Dennis first."

"I think so too. As always, whenever I'm home, Lasse is welcome to stop by for a little chat. You as well, if you ever need it."

"I do want to see your house soon. I should probably have seen it before allowing Lasse to go there."

"You're welcome any time. I better check in on Lasse to make sure he isn't on the phone to someone in Japan."

Lasse was lying fully clothed on his bed, sound asleep, when Jim opened the door to the boy's bedroom. He gently shut it so he wouldn't disturb him and left for home after having said goodbye to Hilda.

Chapter 24

Jim couldn't stay away from his house until the afternoon and he was there at 10 Sunday morning. He only looked in through the windows to check on the progress, he didn't want to risk anything by stepping inside. Instead he turned his attention to the wildly overgrown garden. The lawn, where he and Lasse had been sitting while they talked about Oscar and other things, was more like a grassy field intermixed with weeds.

A lawnmower on its own wouldn't be able to cope with this. It's a good thing my pop had a gas-powered brush cutter.

Jim set out, walking as close to the hedge as he could get and cut a path all the way to the end of his yard and kept following the hedge until he once again was back at the house. The round trip had taken him 40 minutes and left behind a path of utter destruction along the edges of his backyard. He had a quick drink, then went for another round trip. He kept doing this until he had cut all the grass and weeds, even some small saplings to a height of no more than 10 cm [c. 4"].

Jim's lawnmower, set to the highest cutting height, tamed the overgrowth even more, making it somewhat uniform in height. He could now see it had once been a very nicely kept and level lawn.

If I cut it every two days or so on the lowest height, the grass should soon outgrow the weeds again. Maybe by November, it'll be nothing but grass again. I'll trim the hedges late September. If I do it now, I'll just have to do so again before winter.

He left the house for a late lunch and went right back to work when he returned. He was still busy mowing the lawn when the first builder showed up.

"I thought I heard a lawnmower. It's shaping up quite nicely," the man who had peeked into Lasse's shopping bag said to Jim.

"Yes. It's a lot of hard work, but I think in time I'll be very happy I bought this place. It's been badly neglected but with a little tender loving care, it'll shine proudly once again," Jim said, Just like a certain little boy I know.

***

Lasse was in his bedroom, playing with his new phone. His dad had once again been called in to work and his mum had been in a sour mood ever since he told her. Lasse had managed to get the code for the Wi-Fi network by looking at the settings on his Xbox. The phone wasn't restricted, not yet, unlike his Xbox, and he was busy searching for the song Jim had been singing when he first heard the man. He didn't know the name of the song, nor who sung it, but he found it by searching for the words he thought Jim had gotten wrong.

"My heart can still fall," Well, it's what he sings, but it still sounds weird.

Now armed with the name of the song, he typed in a new search phrase, 'thinking out loud ringtone' [By Ed Sheeran], and downloaded it to his phone. He had already added his mum and dad's mobile phone numbers to his contacts as well as the number for the home landline and had noticed it was possible to add different ringtones to individual contacts.

What better ringtone for Jim than his favourite song? It's a stupid song, but I'll know it's him who's calling me even without ever looking at my phone.

All he needed was for Jim to call him. He contemplated calling him but thought better of it. He only had 100 minutes to talk and he didn't want to waste them on simple chit-chat. Instead he searched for ringtones for incoming calls from his mum and dad.

***

"All the concrete seems to have hardened just the way we wanted it to. The bathroom floor was my major worry, but it's set exactly like I thought it would. What kind of flooring have you thought of for the house?"

"At first I wanted click parquet flooring throughout the house since I have a dog. But I think I'll go with wall-to-wall carpeting for the added comfort."

"I'd recommend the parquet. It will be much easier to keep clean and not nearly as bad as you may think to walk on. You can combine the two, a long rug runner in the hallway, throw rugs next to your bed and underneath the coffee table."

"I'll worry about it when the time comes. The concrete is almost nice enough to leave as is."

"Now, that I wouldn't recommend. Not without some kind of treatment to shut its pores. If you spill a bit of coffee on the concrete as it is now, you'll never get the stain out of it."

"I didn't know that. Thanks. Well, it doesn't seem like there's much left for you guys to do now."

"No, the floors need to harden a little more but there are no major bubbles or holes to address. If you do find a small spot that sticks out later, you can simply use an angle grinder with a flap disc to carefully smoothen it out."

"That's a handy tip. So, how much do I owe you for the time spent?"

"Let's say two kilos each and call it even."

"Thanks, guys," Jim said and counted out 6000 kroners and handed it out to them, That's much less than I had feared.

***

Monday morning, Jim was back at his house again to find two vans parked in front of it. The vans were from the plumbing company, as were the two drivers and they quickly assessed how all the ends of the heating hoses ended up in the boiler room.

"We'll start with pressure testing all of the lines. It's the code requirement, no way to get around that," the elder of the two plumbers told Jim, "But you've done well, there's plenty of slack for us to work with and you've marked all lines to show which ones go where. Let me check the bathroom too, you've run new water lines there, which isn't actually legal for you to do so, but we'll test them and sign off on them so you won't have any problem with inspections later."

"Thanks. They have been installed according to the specs."

"We'll soon see that. Ah, that's a clever spot for a faucet, it'll make it simple to fill a bucket for when you have to wash your floors. It would have been better to have a drain directly underneath it, but any spillage should run into the shower drain."

"Yes, that was my thought too," Jim said with a straight face, he hadn't thought of using the faucet to fill water into buckets, it was a small boy's butt he had had in mind, but it would be a great explanation for why he had chosen to have a faucet on the wall next to the loo, if anyone should ask him.

"You installed the wastepipes too?"

"Yes."

"That's against the code again. We're obligated to break up the floor, but I can see how much work you've put into it. Do you remember where you made the connections and which type you used?"

"Even better, I have taken pictures of all of them. Let me look them up on my phone for you," Jim said and located the pictures.

"It isn't exactly how I would have done it, but it is legal. You'll extend the downpipe to an upstairs bathroom, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Yes, it should work. Just keep in mind you install a vent up there, too. Otherwise you'll suck all the water straight out of the bowl of the upstairs toilet when you flush the one down here."

"I'll make sure to do that. The floor here isn't finished yet, as you can see, but would it be possible to install a toilet today?"

"I can't see why not. If you prop it up with something that has the same height as the tiles you'll be putting on the floor, it'll be a simple task. When you then get around to tiling the floor, just remove the toilet and reinstall it when you're done."

"Thanks. How long will it take to install the boiler and have it up and running?"

"Should be installed and hooked up by tomorrow afternoon. Is the gas line open?"

"Yes. I called the company Thursday. It should be good to go, though I obviously haven't had a chance to test it."

"Well, I didn't see a pipe for it in the boiler room."

"No? Arh, sorry. I thought there would be one. I only noticed the gas meter box outside and thought everything would be ready to go."

"I'll lay in the pipe myself, it'll cost a little more, but no more than it would cost having the gas company send out one of their people. Besides, you'd be hard pressed having it done any time soon."

"Okay. Just do what it takes. I'll trust your judgement."

"I'll do my best."

While the plumbers did their thing, Jim began installing the last of the plasterboards. He missed Lasse's assistance and the boy's sweet smile every time he succeeded in driving in a screw without it breaking through the layer of paper. Which he had been able to do almost every single time after he had learnt how.

***

Lasse missed Jim as well. He was chewing at the end of his propelling pencil while he tried to solve a rather difficult addition puzzle.

"Teasing squares!" It would make more sense if they were called mocking squares.

"Insert a number from 1 to 10 into each of the squares so the sum of the horizontal squares equals the number to the right and the sum of the vertical squares equals the number on the bottom," he read out the instructions quietly to himself, once more, and realized his mistake.

It had seemed easy enough at first, finding four numbers that when added to each other made up the sum of the individual rows. That's when he had noticed the numbers at the bottom of the columns and the sums didn't match his numbers at all.

He wanted to lash out at the little girl who all of a sudden ran head first into him because she had been more interested in looking over her shoulder at the little boy who had chased her around the school library rather than keeping track of where she was heading. But he only glared at her.

"Sorry," she said shyly and was soon running around again.

"Kids! Calm yourselves, you need to be quiet in the library," he heard the voice of the male teacher. It actually worked, for all of three minutes.

"Lasse? Lasse Hansen?" He heard someone call out his name. When he looked up, he saw a woman wearing a white uniform holding a clipboard in her hand.

"Yes?"

"I thought I might find you here. It's time for having your teeth checked."

Lasse quickly shoved his things into his schoolbag and followed the dentist's assistant out of the library towards the on-school dentist's surgery. He didn't much enjoy having his teeth poked at, but it was better than trying to solve impossible math puzzles in a noisy library. He didn't mind when the dentist told him he needed to remove a bit of dental plaque from his teeth either. It only meant he had a good excuse for not returning to the library until the five and six year-old kids were long gone.

***

"I'm about ready to install the new radiator in the lounge now," the younger of the two plumbers, possibly an apprentice, told Jim, "I just want to make sure the pipes will be installed to your liking."

"Alright."

"The radiator needs to be here, but the old one sat there, and you can see the old connections for it sticking up from the floor. I'd like to run the new pipes 20 cm [c. 8"] above the floor, but I can see you've prepared for an outlet right in the middle of where the pipes would go."

"Is it possible to run the pipes closer to the floor? Like 10 cm [c. 4"] above it? That would leave enough room for both the outlet and the baseboard."

"Why didn't I think of that? It isn't standard, but it'll work. Do you want me to do the same in the entrance?"

"Yes. Might as well keep them the same. What material is the piping made from, copper?"

"No, it's stainless steel tubing."

"Okay. I'll paint them anyway, so it's fine."

***

"No need for drilling yet, Lasse," the dentist told him while he poked around his teeth with a pointy tool, "but you have two teeth with evolving cavities. You'll have to spend more time brushing your teeth if you want to keep your perfect score of zero cavities. Brush the back of your front teeth much more carefully, they'll have to last for the rest of your life."

"I'll twy," Lasse stated as best as he could while the dentist still flattened his tongue with the small inspection mirror.

"Have you experienced any gum soreness from your new teeth breaking through?"

"Nuh-uh."

"If you do and if it gets real bad, you can take a paracetamol. Sometimes sucking on an ice cube will ease the pain too. Right, I'll let you off the hook now. At this point in time it doesn't look like you'll need braces to correct the position of your permanent teeth, but we'll keep checking up on them as they grow in," the dentist said and removed the instruments from Lasse's mouth.

He then addressed his assistant, "Schedule an appointment for Lasse in the last week of November, please."

"Already done and noted it's for checking the progress of the developing cavities."

"Thank you. Well, I'll be seeing you in three months, young man."

"Yes, sir."

Lasse returned to the school library, this time it was fully deserted. The lack of noise didn't do much to help him solve the puzzles, though.

I'll have to ask Jim for help. He'll know how to do this, he's good with numbers.

***

"That looks pretty darn good," Jim praised when he checked the radiators the apprentice plumber had installed and connected to the old heat pipes.

"Thank you, sir. I think we're about ready to pressurize the old system to check for leaks. If all checks out, I'll get started on the bathroom. You should have water available there by the end of the day."

"I guess I better go buy myself a new toilet, then."

"We should have everything covered if you do leave. If you buy the faucets you want for the shower and such, we can install them as well."

"I'll see if they have the type I want at the DIY centre."

Jim drove to the centre and was greeted by name by the sales person who had helped him with the underfloor heating system. He managed to secure everything he needed for the bathroom and got a discount of 10% for being a valued customer. Instead of having it all delivered he lent a trailer and transported it back home himself.

***

At the end of the school day, Lasse again walked to Jim's house.

"Knock, knock!" He called out.

"Who's there?"

"A boy who needs help."

"What kind of help?"

"Help with maths."

"Well, I think I should be able to help with that. 4th grade maths can't be too difficult," Jim said when he emerged from the bathroom.

"Wait until you see it," Lasse said and reached into his schoolbag to locate the sheet of paper with the four puzzles.

"Hoh, this is like an advanced form of Sudoku. Are you sure this is 4th grade stuff?"

"It is. Can you show me how to do it?"

"I think so. Have a seat. I'll have to think for a while."

"Don't take too long, I have to be home in time for dinner."

"Very funny, Lassie! It won't take that long."

Sheesh, Jim thought, This can't be an 4th grade assignment, it's like high school level.

"Forget these numbers, Lasse, I'll try to teach you the principles," Jim said.

"Aw. No, forget it. My teacher tried that and half of us couldn't get it. There's like no system I can figure out to solve the puzzles, I guess I'll just have to keep guessing until I get the numbers right."

"That's one way of doing it I suppose. More time consuming, but it'll work."

"What have you been doing today?"

"I put up the rest of the plasterboards. And, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Lasse lit up.

"Uh, yeah. It isn't something you can take home with you, but come, let me show you."

Lasse followed Jim to the bathroom.

"Tada! What do you think of it?" Jim asked and pointed at the new toilet he had just finished installing when Lasse had shown up.

"Oh, you got a new loo? Does it work?"

"Yes, well, I sure hope so. I only just hooked it up to the water mains when you came knocking."

"Can I use it?"

"Go ahead. Let's see if it works."

Lasse stepped closer to the toilet and stood in front of it. He didn't wait for Jim to leave, just unzipped his jeans and pushed his underwear down to get to his prick. That's when he sensed Jim getting up right behind him.

"Mind if I help you?"

"Help me?"

"Yes. Don't start peeing until I tell you to, okay?"

"Uh, sure."

Lasse watched and could feel Jim's hands reach for his jeans button. He sucked in his stomach when Jim undid the button and giggled when the man pushed down his jeans and undies to his knees.

"I'm not a little kid, Jim."

"I know, I know. But, please, just pretend to be one for a few minutes. I've been wanting to do something like this for a very long time," Jim said and pinched the little prick of his friend with two of his fingers. He held it just tight enough to be able to skin the foreskin back and pointed the end of the bared prick head towards the bowl of the toilet.

"All set to go, Lasse. You can start peeing when you feel like it."

"I don't know if I can. This is so weird."

"Your bladder has to be overflowing if I know you right."

"Yeah, but…"

Jim pushed at Lasse's lower stomach, right where he imagined the boy's bladder had to be, and increased the pressure when nothing happened.

"Ugh, you don't have to squeeze me so hard. Wait, guhhh, this feels so strange."

"Just relax. It's alright, Lasse. I've seen you pee before."

"Yes, but that was different. Ah, it's about to start," Lasse said and only seconds later the first squirt of pee shot out of his pee slit. It was quickly followed by another two small squirts and finally the flow began for real.

"Ahhhhh," Lasse sighed and Jim watched in awed silence while the boy emptied his bladder. He could feel the strong flow of pee through the small prick and heard how it began to pool in the empty bowl of the toilet.

"'atta boy," he gave praise as if Lasse had been much younger boy.

Lasse didn't respond, just kept on peeing. His bladder had actually been close to overflowing, just like Jim had said and like always it felt so nice to finally be able to let go after a long day at school.

Jim held on to the little prick while he kept it pointed at the toilet. He didn't try to move the stream of pee around, just kept it centred in the middle of the bowl. When the stream began to lose momentum he shifted his hold on the prick and pointed it ever so lightly upwards, making sure the end of the stream stayed right in the middle of the bowl.

Unfortunately, Lasse didn't just let his pee dwindle to a halt, he squeezed his buttocks tightly together and pressed down hard, sending two strong squirts of pee right onto the bottom of the upright seat lid. He laughed when Jim scolded him for peeing on the seat.

"You were the one who aimed it for me. You can't blame me!" He told the man.

"I didn't know you were going to fire your cannon double-charged right at the end!"

That required a brief explanation of old artillery cannons and how they were sometimes overfilled, or double charged, with gun powder to enable them to propel cannon balls longer than normal. Jim explained it while he was fondling the boy's prick and it began to perk up between his fingers. He altered the grip on the stiffening prick and used the pulp of his index finger to caress the still bared glans wet from pee.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to…?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

"Why not? The window is frosted. Just try to keep your squeals down a bit. You left the front door wide open."

"But…"

"Hush, Lassie. We don't have much time. It'll just be a quick one today, you have to go home and study for school," Jim soothed the boy and wet his index finger on the hand that wasn't busy fondling the boy's little, but very stiff prick. He slipped the finger in between Lasse's buttocks, followed the valley in search of the hot opening he knew he'd find down there somewhere. When he located it, he began to massage it ever so lightly.

Lasse tried to spread open his legs, but the jeans around his knees wouldn't let him. Instead he pushed back his rear end, making it harder for Jim to keep fondling his prick, but giving him easier access to his bum. The boy's body was conflicted, it wanted to experience both the sensations from the front and the rear, all at the same time.

"Stand up straighter, Lassie. I promise that I'll soon play with your butt, but today I'll just toss you off. I'll teach you how to clean your butt to make it nice and ready for some real butt play," Jim said and unknowingly put an end to Lasse's internal conflict.

Lasse didn't question the man, he only did as he was told and soon he felt Jim abandon his bum hole. The man used both his hands to work over his private parts in front. He hissed from pain when Jim squeezed his small balls tightly and moaned when the fingers on his prick picked up speed.

Acutely aware of the open front door, Lasse tried to limit his moans and gasps to a tolerable level, an increasingly difficult task as Jim put ever more pressure on his balls the closer Lasse got to climaxing.

"Oh yes, Lassie. You're doing so well. It can't be long now," Jim said, but thought better and moved his hand from Lasse's nut sack to his mouth. He held the boy's mouth shut when Lasse reached nirvana and cried out quite loudly even with the fingers blocking his mouth. As soon as he sensed Lasse wouldn't cry out again, he allowed the boy the use of his mouth again.

"Wicked," Lasse whispered while he gasped for air.

"Very much so. The fear of being caught made it a lot better, didn't it?"

"Uhm, I guess. But, Jim, can we please not do it with the door open again? I really don't want anyone to know."

"You're right, Lasse. It was reckless of me. I'm sorry."

"I kinda liked it. I just don't want to do it like that again," Lasse said and pushed down on the button to flush the toilet. He heard some low rattling noises from inside the toilet, but it didn't flush.

"Oops," He said and tried it again, "It doesn't work."

"Oh. I think I forgot something," Jim said and opened the valve for the water.

Both man and boy could hear the water start filling the cistern and when it stopped, Lasse tried flushing the toilet one more time. This time, clear water filled the bowl and pushed out the golden-coloured pee.

"There we go! All is perfectly fine."

"Yeah," Lasse agreed after checking his still sore balls for damages, "All is fine."

"Right, pull up your pants now. Like I said, you need to go home and study. I'm waiting for your mam to call me and if everything works out, then… Ah, I better not tell you yet. I don't want you to get your hopes up if it doesn't work out."

"What won't work out?"

"You'll see. I promise, as soon as I find out what her verdict is, I'll call you."

"Okay. Uh, I keep my phone turned off when I'm at school."

"As you should. Keep it at the very bottom of your schoolbag too. Don't let anyone see it."

"I won't. They'd either steal or break it."

"Ah, maybe not, but they might try to pry into it."

"I scanned my finger prints last night. I'm the only one who can access my phone now."

"Unless someone knows your pin. Like I do."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I read it when we got the sim card. If you ever change it, I'll need to know the new code too. I promised your mam I'd check your phone from time to time to make sure you aren't using it for inappropriate things."

"Huh?"

"Like sign up on Facebook and Instagram and staying up all night long talking to your girlfriend."

"Jim…! I don't have a girlfriend! And why should I sign up on Facebook or Instagram when I don't have any friends at all?"

"Oh? I guess you do have a point. For now, anyway. We'll get you signed up on Skype. We can use that to chat via cam."

"Can we do it now?"

"I don't have an internet connecting here yet. Come, I'll walk you home and then I'll quickly set up Skype for you. I won't stay though. I actually meant what I said about you having to study."

"I know. Thanks, Jim."

Chapter 25

"Hi Jim!" Lasse said excitedly. It was 8:45 in the evening and he lay in his bed underneath his covers. He had just initiated a Skype video call to his friend.

"Hi sweetums. What's up?"

"Uh, hold on, I gotta adjust the sound… Try now."

"Better now?"

"Lots. Whatcha doing?"

"Sitting in my room talking to my little cute boyfriend. How 'bout you?"

"I'm in bed with my boyfr… No, with my manfriend," Lasse giggled at his own joke.

"Oooh, what are the two of you going to do then?"

"I dunno. Talk for a bit?"

"Did you tell your mam g'nite yet?"

"Uh-huh. And dad left for work already."

"So you're not going to be disturbed?"

"Nope."

"Tilt your phone to the side. No, the other way, you're upside down now… Yeah, like that. Now I can see you better. Are you under your duvet?"

"Uh-huh. So there's no light to be seen outside my door."

"Clever boy. What are you wearing?"

"My t-shirt and undies. See, my t-shirt? Cool, in'it?" Lasse moved his phone downwards to let Jim see his favourite night t-shirt.

"Oh yes. Show me your undies too. If you tap the screen, you'll see two arrows in a circle, tap those and it'll switch to the other camera. Yeah, you got it. I like your undies, are they the same you wore earlier?"

"Yup."

"Lassie, you naughty boy!"

"What?"

"You're excited! Aren't you, Lassie?"

"Uh…"

"But you are! Your peener is all stiff isn't it?"

"So?"

"Show me how you tug on it."

"Not now."

"Why not? Just give it a few tugs. Please?"

"Aw, alright then. If it means so much to you."

"It does. I can't wait to touch it again. Oh yeah, tug on it, stretch that foreskin as far as it'll go, just like that… Fuck! Sorry, Lasse, I have to end the call right now!"

"What? Why?"

"Your mam is calling me. If I can, I'll Skype you back after, okay?"

"Mum?" Lasse managed to blurt out before the image of Jim's head and upper body vanished from his phone. He felt so guilty he pushed and held down the power button on his phone and quickly shut it off. He put it under his pillow and tried to make it look like he had already fallen asleep, just in case his mum would check in on him.

***

"Hello, Hilda," Jim said as casually as he could right after having watched her son play with his little stiffy.

"Good evening, Jim."

"Did you have a nice day?"

"Ah, you know. It's Monday."

"Yes, I'm not looking forward to next Monday either. I'm going back to work then."

"I remember. Listen, I've been considering what you said. At first I couldn't think of anything but how on earth you had the nerve to talk like that about my family and our way of doing things. But then I thought of what would be in Lasse's best interest. It's very hard to admit that I maybe haven't been the perfect parent to Lasse…"

"Pardon, Hilda, but you are a very good mam to Lasse…"

"Please, we both know that isn't true. I'm like one of those helicopter parents you read about daily. I just wanted to make life as easy for Lasse and protect him from harm for as long as possible. In doing so, I haven't allowed him to… Well, never mind that now. If your offer is still valid, I would like to take you up on it. Lasse will go to your house after school lets out on Wednesdays from now on. I want him home at eight thirty at the very latest and he is not to be pumped full of sugar. He needs to be fairly tired so he'll be able to sleep at nine."

"Oh believe me, I won't let him have too much sugary stuff. It was in our original agreement too."

"Just making sure. I'll allow him to sleep over at your house from Friday to Saturday as well a couple of times, then we'll see how that works out before we decide anything about him spending whole weekends with you. You may not want him to stay at your house for so long, anyway, he'll go directly to your house from school on Fridays too. Oh, I'm sorry, I don't even know if that works for you."

"I'll make it work. My hours are somewhat flexible and I sometimes work from home."

"Lucky you. Well, if I could work from home, I'd probably not get much work done anyway."

"Mostly I just have to be available in case a client calls. But, please don't tell my boss I said that."

"I'll tell Dennis about my decision, though I doubt he'll object to it. He's hardly at home anymore."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you, Jim. You've opened my eyes to something I really should have been able to see myself."

"Sometimes, we just can't see what's right under our own noses."

"That's so true. Okay, I'm going to hang up, I'm sure you have better things to do than talking to me."

"Well, not presently, no. But, I'm happy you came to this conclusion, Hilda. I promise, I won't let you down."

"I trust you, Jim. Good night."

"Good night, Hilda."

Jim quickly pushed the button to end the call then turned his attention back to his laptop. Skype was still on the screen, but unfortunately he could tell Lasse had logged out. He considered calling his little lover's phone, but thought it best not to.

I'll soon enough see him again. If not tomorrow, then Wednesday for sure. We'll be spending almost 5 hours together, all alone!

Instead, he opened a blank workbook in Excel. For the next two hours he had fun thinking up things that he and Lasse would have to do in order for the boy to reach level 10.

Oh yes. This'll be good. I hope Lasse won't object too much to what he has to do in order to advance to the next levels.

Jim changed the colour of some of the text, making it look like a standard form with things added to it. Then he located an old style picture frame on the internet, took a screenshot of the table he had made and pasted it on top of the picture frame and printed it in colour on his printer. He ended up with a very official-looking paper, with the following contents.

Progress chart for: Lassie

Jim hoped Lasse would be interested in gaining even more levels but decided to keep it to the first 10. The boy had seemed to worry a whole lot about being penetrated by his prick. Though it wasn't overly large, Jim knew it looked massive to the young and inexperienced boy.

If Lasse won't let me fuck him, I'll have to go back to dating women. That is something I'd rather not have to do ever again. Though it would be kind of nice to have kids of my own, I really don't want a bitch like my ex bossing me around all of the time.

There was another bonus of minding a kid who wasn't Jim's own. If he ever got fed up with Lasse, he could always tell him to go home. But, somehow, he reckoned he'd never have to do that. If he had to, he could chastise Lasse in ways no parents were allowed to. He didn't want to hit or smack Lasse, but there were other, and likely much more effective, ways of disciplining a boy.

Like a chastity device. Well, it wouldn't be of much use now, Lasse doesn't seem to be too interested in his little peener yet, but when he'll want to wank it for real, it should be a quite effective instrument of discipline. Two or three days locked up in one will have him on his knees begging for me to remove it. I wonder if anyone makes chastity devices small enough for kids now. I know they did long ago, but now? I'll have to search for some. Maybe I can design one of my own?

***

Jim managed to get to his house before the plumbers arrived the next morning. He succeeded in installing new wirings to the boiler room, and outlets, before he heard them pull up in front of his house. The plumbers went straight to work and spent two hours dismantling the old oil-burning boiler. The natural gas-powered boiler was only a quarter of the size but the elder plumber assured Jim he wouldn't notice it.

"This new boiler will heat up the water so quickly, you'll never run out of warm water. It does have a 30 litres [c. 8 gallons] holding tank for hot water, but it's only meant to be a backup. If the power ever cuts out, you'll still be able to take a short hot shower."

Jim didn't spend too long watching the plumbers work, he had so much to do and so little time left of his vacation to do it in. The vanity for the downstairs bathroom had to be assembled and Jim was certain IKEA owned part of the company that had made it. The assembly process was almost like putting together furniture from the large Swedish company. Fortunately, it wasn't a very large vanity, just a somewhat sizable sink with a cupboard underneath it.

He installed the faucet in the vanity, secured it in place on the bathroom wall, and had the apprentice plumber hook up the water lines and drainage pipe.

It costs more, but at least the old guy can't tell me it's against the building code and all that crap to install it on my own.

***

At school, Lasse sat outside in his favourite spot, the one from where he could watch the large lawn where kids played footy. This time Lasse wasn't just watching them, he covertly used his new, refurbished, smartphone to record the kids playing. Though he had made a promise to his parents and Jim about not ever using his phone at school, it had been impossible for him to leave it alone.

Besides it's recess. There's no harm in me playing with my phone in the recesses. It isn't like the other kids can see me do so. They're all running around and enjoying the sunny weather.

"T'is a cool phone you have," Lasse heard someone tell him from behind. When he turned his head to find out who it was, he saw Matt from his class standing there.

"Uh, thanks. Please, don't tell anyone you saw it. I'm not s'posed to use it in school."

"I won't. It's a Samsung in'it?"

"Yup. A Galaxy A5, latest model."

"Wow! I wanted one for my birthday, but my mum told me it was far too 'spensive. She got me a LG."

"Oh. The K7?"

"Yes. It sucks!"

"I know. I saw it when we went to buy this one. I didn't want it and then the guy made a special deal for me and I bought this one instead."

"You bought it?"

"Yeah. I had been saving for a new he… Uh, my new phone for three years. And I just bought it Saturday."

"Sweet. It's the proper colour too."

"Uh-huh," Lasse agreed though he hadn't been aware of the phone being available in different colours. Jim's phone was black, the same as Lasse's.

"Were you filming the kids playing?"

"Yes."

"Can I watch it?"

"Erm, okay, but I'll hold the phone for you."

"'S okay, I only want to see how much better the A5 is at taking pictures than the K7."

***

Jim installed the light fixtures in his bathroom. It was the last thing he could do until the concrete floor fully hardened. At that time he planned to tile the walls and floor, and install the frosted glass sections for the shower stall.

For now I'll have to sponge bathe in the kitchen. Or take baths at my parents' house. I'll make it work, somehow. I just really want to move out before I go back to work. It won't take as much time to commute from here as it does from their house.

He began moving the old kitchen cabinets back to where they had been and found out the base of the cabinets no longer matched the by now level floor. Instead of spending too much time and money on cabinets he really wanted far gone, he cut a couple of the spare studs to length and placed the cabinets on top of them. The old kitchen sink was easy to hook up and he was pleasantly surprised to feel warm water coming out of the sprout when he tested it.

"Yes, we're all done now. We've ran the circulation pumps with cold water and they spun happily. The manifolds you see on this wall are what control the underfloor heating in the house. They have automatic shut-off valves which are controlled by remote temperature sensors. They're all here, I'll leave it to you to install them. They have a display so you can adjust the temperature to your liking from the sensors, there won't be any need whatsoever for you to mess with the manifolds."

"In order words," Jim deduced, "if it doesn't work, I'm not to try to fix it myself, but call you?"

"Precisely. On a more serious note, there really shouldn't be a need for looking at that part of the heating system for the next 10 or 15 years. The pumps are the best on the market, they are low noise and adjust the speed to the flow needed. The boiler itself has to be serviced once a year. If you experience any problems when you turn on the heat, give us a call and we'll come take a look, free of charge. Our work is warrantied."

"Thank you," Jim said, signed the paperwork and felt elated that one more of the obstacles preventing him from moving into his own house had been removed.

Well, I won't be having a house-warming party to celebrate it. Not in this house. It'll remind me too much of the bitch! Jim thought and pressed on with installing the rest of the kitchen cabinets.

***

"Hi Jim."

"Hi Lasse. Not coming round today?" Jim asked his friend who had called him on the phone.

"I am, I just wanted to know if it's okay before I walked there. I'm at the bus stop now."

"Sure, come on over. You've never needed an invitation before."

"Well, I thought I might as well call since I have this awesome phone and all now."

"Right, see you in five."

"Three. It doesn't take me so long to walk. Bye."

"See you."

Lasse walked straight in through the front door when he arrived at Jim's house, shut it and dropped his schoolbag in the entrance and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Don't forget to wash your hands, Lassie," he heard Jim tell him from the kitchen.

"I won't," he called out while he watched his pee go into the toilet.

"Jim? Do you have any tissues?" He asked after he had washed his hands, "There's no towel out here, and no tissues, not even TP."

"Shit, I forgot that. Wipe your hands on your trousers, it's okay."

Lasse looked down at his legs. He wasn't wearing trousers, nor jeans, only shorts. He went to the kitchen where Jim was fiddling with the cooker hood. He was wearing trousers and Lasse quickly went and wiped his hands on those.

"Ooh, Lassie! A bit further to the right, please. Oy, what're you doing, you little terror?"

"Wiping my hands. What were you thinking I'd be doing?"

"I thought maybe, nah. Forget it. How was your day?"

"Heh, you thought I was…? My day was good. I talked to Matt today."

"Matt?"

"Yeah, a kid in my class. His dad died."

"Recently?"

"No, when he was just a baby. He got all wound up like I do when someone feels sorry for me when I tried to tell him I was sorry."

"So, you're not so special after all, eh?"

"Guess not. But Matt's kind of cool."

"New friend, perhaps?"

"Maybe. Dunno yet."

"That's great news."

"Don't make a big deal out of it. He isn't my friend. Not yet, anyway."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you. Anyway, when you leave school tomorrow, just come straight here. No need for calling me, either. You and I are going to hang out right until you have to go home to sleep."

"Really?"

"Yep. That's why I'm installing this old kitchen. We'll cook dinner and eat here. The first dinner at my house, how's bout that?"

"That's so sick!"

"Not unless the food is spoiled. No, I know what you mean, Lassie. We won't just be cooking dinner, however. Bring a pair of swimshorts, I'll take you swimming when school lets out."

"Swimming?"

"Yes. I saw the town has a pool. We'll go check it out. I haven't been swimming for ages… What's the matter?"

"Uh. I don't think I have any swimshorts."

"No? Oh. Don't worry about that. I'll buy some for you this afternoon."

"I can't swim."

"Why not? If you're still worried about people going to see that scar of yours then I think it's…"

"No. I don't know how to swim."

"You can learn. I'll teach you. It's a darn sight easier to learn how to swim than how to solve those math puzzles you showed me yesterday."

Chapter 26

It wasn't much Jim had to pay for a pair of swimshorts for Lasse. A cold summer was about to turn into fall, and though he got a bit side-tracked by looking at bikinis for small girls, while imagining what Lasse would look like wearing one of them, he soon was able to pick from several discounted boy's swimshorts. He even had the advantage of knowing what size would fit on Lasse's slim body.

I've seen the size tag in his undies. Which reminds me, I'll need another pair of those soon. Well, maybe not. I'm not going to wank for quite some time to come. Not unless he decides he won't play with me like that anymore.

He ended up buying a turquoise-coloured pair of Lentiggini swimshorts with a wide black elasticated waist. It wasn't a pair of speedos, but the legs of the swimshorts were short enough to be virtually pointless, though likely all-important to Lasse.

They'll still show off most of his thighs, that's for sure. And he won't be able to resent them, since they're shorts, not speedos.

***

"I can't," Lasse told a disappointed Matt the next day. He had just been invited by the boy to come to his house after school, "I'm going swimming this afternoon."

"Aw. Well, maybe I'll see you there, then. I feel up for having a bit of fun in the pool instead of just going there to swim all the time."

"What? No! Uh, uhm, yeah, sure, I mean, if you really want to."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just, I won't be going there alone."

"Well, we can all play together, can't we?"

Could we? Would you be interested in Jim doing stuff to you as well? Nah, prob'ly not.

"Uh. We're not going there to play. I'm going to learn how to swim."

"You don't know how to swim? Erm, sorry. You didn't get to come with the rest of the class, eh? When they taught them last year."

"No. I don't even know if I can swim. With my heart and all. Jim says it won't be a problem, that it isn't as physically demanding as running, but…"

"Jim's right. Whoever he is."

"He's a friend of mine. Older."

"Oh? Cool! Does he have a car?"

"Yes. He calls it the batmobile, but it's just an old green Jetta."

"Heh. That's funny. Man, you're so lucky to have an older friend."

"It's okay. I'm helping him build his house."

"Build a house? You?"

"Yes. And no, it isn't made from Legos. A proper house. Well, we aren't building it, we're restoring it."

"Sick!"

"Totally sick. He even let me drill these huge holes in the walls using a hole-saw. I thought I was going to mess it all up, but I didn't."

"Do you think he'd let me help him with the house too?" Matt asked eagerly.

"Uhm," Lasse had to quickly think of something to say, "I don't know. He doesn't know you."

"Maybe he'll let me when he gets to know me. I'll help him teach you how to swim. Then he'll see I can be trusted and that I'm responsible."

"Maybe," Lasse said, but not as dreamingly as his classmate had. Suddenly he saw Matt in a very different light. No longer a potential friend of Lasse's, but a potential rival for Jim's attention. Both the highly sought after and much appreciated kind of attention the man had shown Lasse. As well as the stranger and, for the time being, rather more unwanted affection.

I don't want to share Jim with Matt. What if Jim finds out he likes Matt more? Matt doesn't have a stuffed up heart. He can find his own older friend!

***

"Jim?" Lasse asked when he entered his older friend's house.

"In the kitchen."

"Okay," Lasse said and went to the bathroom, "Uh, Matt is going to be at the swimming pool," Lasse explained while he relieved himself.

"Who? Oh, your new friend."

"He's not a friend. But, I couldn't think up a reason to tell him not to go."

"Why would you want to do that anyway?" Jim asked when he entered the bathroom.

"I don't want him to laugh at me when we find out I really can't swim. When I'm lying at the bottom of the pool drowning."

"Oh, Lassie. I won't allow you to drown. Don't worry, you'll see it won't be difficult at all."

"So you don't mind?"

"Mind what?"

"That Matt will be there?"

"No, why would I? We live in a free country."

"But he'll want to help teach me how to swim."

"Ah. It'll only be more fun. What time is he going to be there?"

"Right from when they open. At four."

"That's in 25 minutes. Right, I'll just get changed and we'll get going too."

***

"Is this your friend?" Matt asked Lasse quietly while Jim paid the admission fees for himself and Lasse.

"Yeah. That's Jim."

"He's not what I expected. He's like much older than us!"

"He's only 32. And he's seriously cool."

"If you say so," Matt said quickly, not really wanting to believe it, but had to stop discussing the subject as Jim was approaching them.

"Hi there, you must be Matt?"

"Yes."

"Right, so you're my assistant coach. Are you any good at swimming?"

"I've been swimming since I was three."

"Aha, that's the reason for your build."

"My build?"

"Yes. Your biceps look like they want to go places in the world."

"Erm. I guess."

"And your thighs look quite toned too, heck, your entire body looks toned. Just like a proper swimmer's body should be."

"Aw, I'm not so fit, not yet. You should see some of the kids on the team next up from mine."

"They're likely older than you. When you grow older, you'll fill out even more if you keep up swimming. But you are fit!"

"Can we go get changed yet?" Lasse interrupted.

"Yes, of course. Which way to the locker room, Matt?"

"They're this way," Lasse said and quickly grabbed hold of Jim's hand and dragged him along with him. He had already seen the signs leading the way and wondered if Jim really hadn't been able to see them.

He's not so old he needs reading glasses yet, Lasse thought, not knowing reading glasses were for being able to read things up close, not at a distance like the signs for the locker rooms.

When they got there, Matt just began to undress like it didn't mean anything to him. Which it of course didn't, having been on a swimming team for as long as he could remember, he had gotten undressed in the company of plenty of other people, though they had mostly been kids of his own age.

To Lasse it was a quite different experience. He had only ever gotten undressed with his parents present, and lately Jim. And with nurses present, at the hospital, but that was so long ago he couldn't even remember that. He tried to act just like Matt, who sat on the bench in the middle of the room and had pushed both his shorts and underwear down to his ankles in one go, before he even undid the laces on his trainers. Lasse couldn't help but check out the boy, curious as to what his private parts looked like.

It's bigger than mine! He thought and the realization made him blush. Not from shame, though. No, it was from anger due to the unfairness of it. Why does everything about him have to be bigger and better than me? He's fitter, taller, and his prick is like 3 cm [c. 1"] longer than my peener.

Not only that, Matt didn't seem shy at all. He just pushed off his trainers, removed his socks and pushed his shorts and underwear off his feet before he stood up, bent right over to pick up the clothes and shoes, giving both Lasse and Jim a first class view of his toned bum cheeks and the bum hole in-between them. It was only for a split-second, but Lasse could tell Jim had seen the same thing he had.

***

Matt sure has a nice body. And he knows how to wipe. But, I'll wager a bet that Lasse's arsehole is the tastier of the two. Not that I'd ever be able to tell for sure, I've got too much at risk with only one boy. Making advances on Matt would be like asking for a serious amount of trouble. Though he is kind of flaunting himself.

"Okay, lads, let's go get showered so we can teach Lasse how to swim," he said.

Matt didn't need any further encouragement he just took his sponge and headed for the communal showers after locking in his clothes and towel. Lasse wasn't quite naked yet, though.

"Whip off that t-shirt and lets go," Jim told him and watched while Lasse reluctantly removed the last piece of clothing on his body, "It'll be fine. I promise."

"Just don't let me drown while you check out Matt," Lasse said unable to contain his emotions to himself any longer.

"Won't happen. He does have a nice body, but he isn't you."

"No, of course he isn't. He is like perfect and I'm not."

"We'll talk later. Right now, the clock is ticking. We only have two hours before they'll evict us from the pool and I want you to at least have a taste of what the big pool is like."

"A taste?"

"Yes. Not literally, I'm not asking you to drink from it. We'll start out in the smaller pool, if they have one here. It's very shallow and the water should be much warmer. When I've taught you how to float, we'll move to the normal pool."

"Okay."

***

"That's the baby pool!" Lasse argued against getting into the pool that wasn't much deeper than the bathtub at home.

"Yes and in terms of swimming, you are a baby, Lasse," Matt said. He sat in the middle of the shallow pool and enjoyed the much warmer water than was in the large pool he normally swam in. The baby pool was strictly off limits when Matt's team swam. Like it was during normal opening hours, too, unless you had a toddler with you.

Jim had chosen to simply ignore the signs embedded into the slightly raised sidings of the square pool. When one of the life guards came over to shoo them away, he calmly explained how he was there to teach Lasse how to swim. With a firm promise to vacate the baby pool, in the case a parent should show up with their small child, they were allowed to stay.

"Get in, Lasse," Jim told the nearly naked and shivering boy who stood hugging himself in an attempt to both keep warm and hide his scar, "Get in and sit next to Matt."

"Alright then. But I'm not a baby."

"No, but you do need to learn how to float first of all. And it's just easier to do that in here," Jim said and stepped into the pool. He waded into the centre of it without waiting for Lasse to get in.

"Sit on your bum and scoot yourself towards us. The water's nice!" Matt cheered Lasse on.

Lasse carefully scaled the siding and when he experienced the warmth of the water, 31C [c. 88F] to be exact, he did just what Matt had suggested. When he got closer to Jim, the man told him to lie back.

"Just relax every muscle in your body and you'll float."

"He's right," Matt agreed, "Watch me, do like this."

Lasse watched closely and noticed how Matt's body seemingly all on its own and quite effortlessly floated just below the surface. The face and the toes of the boy were the only parts above the water but it was enough for Matt to breathe.

"If you ever tire from swimming, just roll onto your back and take a breather. It's the single most important thing I can teach you," Jim explained.

Lasse attempted to float and he nearly managed to do so when the water lapped over his face and caused him to want to raise his head out of the water. As soon as he firmed up his stomach muscles his bum sank right back down to the bottom of the pool.

"Good first try, Lasse, do it again," Jim said.

"You can do it, you almost had it," Matt stated.

***

And Lasse did prevail, he learned how to float in the baby pool, and after they switched to the much larger, and somewhat cooler and normal pool, he started to learn how to swim. They stuck to the shallow end and when Lasse could dog paddle from one side of the pool to the other, a total of 25 metres [c. 80 feet], Jim called off the swimming lesson.

"Pools aren't just for swimming, they're for having loads of fun too," he said and used his hands to shovel water at Matt and Lasse.

He soon found himself outmatched by the two ten year-olds who ganged up on him. Lasse flung water back with his arms and Matt used his feet to kick a lot of water in the general direction of Jim.

This guy isn't bad at all, Matt thought while he let himself get caught by Jim and dunked under the water.

Matt stayed submerged and when he saw Jim turn towards Lasse, he used his legs to propel himself upwards and partway out of the water and latched onto Jim's back.

"Get him, Lasse!" He cried out while he snaked one of his arms around Jim's neck and hooked his lower legs around the middle of the man. He tried to force him backwards and to lose his footing on the bottom of the pool.

Matt cried out again when Jim reached back and tried to get a hold of his neck. Lasse seized the moment and paddled/waded closer to Jim's front and gave him a firm shove right at his lower rib cage. Lasse's shove caused the boy to fall backwards himself, but even as he did he shouted out from glee since he could see Jim lose his footing and the man tumbled backwards into the water, taking Matt with him.

"Enough," Jim sputtered when his head was back above water.

"Aw!" Both boys exclaimed at the same time.

"Matt, go get that ball over there. We'll play some more with that."

"Okay."

"The objective is to keep the ball in play and out of the water," Jim explained and threw it to Lasse.

"What if he can't?" Lasse asked.

"What?"

"If one of us can't keep the ball in play, what happens to him?"

"Uh…"

"He'll have to only keep his head above water," Matt said, and added in a hushed voice, "and bare his bum for five seconds!"

"Uh, maybe that isn't such a good idea," Jim said and glanced around the pool. There were several other kids in the pool, though only a few other adults, and they were busy swimming lanes at the far and deeper end of it.

"It's okay. We do it all the time on the team. Besides, there aren't anyone real close to us. We'll shield the one baring his bum from everyone else. Just mind the lifeguards."

Jim was about to tell Matt there were other ways to look at bared bums, and far more secure, when Lasse agreed to the rules.

"Okay. Here Jim, we're starting now," he said and threw the ball towards the man.

Jim had to make a mad dive for the ball and just managed to get his fingertips on it and sent it towards Matt. It went over his head, between his outstretched arms and he had to swim to retrieve the ball. When he got back to his spot, he shrugged, turned his back to Jim and Lasse and lowered himself deeper into the water.

Is he really going to do it? Lasse thought and just when Matt reached for his speedos, Lasse took a deep breath and submerged his head fully under the water to have a better look.

"Is Lasse doing it?" Matt asked Jim, "Is his head underwater now?"

"Yes."

"I knew he wouldn't be able to not look."

"Is that why you came up with that stunt?"

"Yes. He can't swim properly if he's afraid of getting his face wet."

"You're right. Uh, I think you can hike your speedos back up now."

"'K. I wouldn't want him to drown, anyway. I quite like him."

They resumed the game and when Lasse fouled the ball, Matt went under to check if he'd really stick to the rule. Lasse did, he was a quite law-abiding boy, and to him it was only fair. Matt had pulled down his swimwear when he hadn't been able to keep the ball in play. Lasse didn't want to seem like a wimp, not in a direct competition with the other boy for Jim's attention. Besides, he had begun to actually like Matt.

Maybe we can be friends. But, he had better stay far away from Jim's house.

NEXT PART