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The Sweet Life	By : jai Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 8241 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people written about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
May 11, 2010 Philadelphia, PA

Ian woke up in the dark and after a minute, realized that there was something over his eyes. When his fingers touched the gauze, the memory came flooding back.

&&

Ian tried to ignore the doorbell but huffed as he rolled over but whoever it was wasn’t going away. He took a quick pee, seeing Michael’s note but going back into the bedroom to pull some clothes on. He reached into the dresser drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and a scrubby pair of shorts, grumbling under his breath. This had better be important or someone was going to pay.

He hit the intercom button by the door. “Yes, what is it?”

“Delivery, sir. From Australia for a Mr. Grant Hackett.”

“I’ll be right there.” As he went down the stairs, he realized that Grant had had a birthday the previous day and wondered why Grant hadn’t mentioned it. Oh ho! Not only was it Grant’s birthday but it was his thirtieth and Ian would have definitely made a big deal over that! He knew that Grant had purposefully not brought it up to avoid a full day of teasing about being an old man. Ian rubbed his hands together; making plans to drop by the local chemist’s and pick a cane up along with a few other things.

He opened the door, busy with his thoughts and saw a man in a delivery uniform, holding a box. “Sorry about that, I was sleeping.” Ian said, as he reached for the package.

“Good, because you’re going to sleep for a very long time.” The man stepped forward and pressed a black thing to Ian’s arm.

Ian looked down and tried to step back but froze when there was a buzzing sound and the most excruciating pain arced through his body. He dropped to the floor, hitting hard and heard the dogs go crazy, the man yelling and the buzzing sound again, twice.

Intellectually he knew he’d just been hit with a stun gun and that the dogs had been too but he couldn’t make his body move. His only view was the baseboard near the door of the living room and he could feel someone’s hand on his ankle.

“-you’re a real tub of lard you are. Haven’t been watching your weight, have you? Oh, what to do with you? Michael’s going to be home soon and I don’t really have time to give you what you deserve. He doesn’t need to see you again; he’ll be too busy taking care of me.”

Ian could feel himself being dragged back towards the kitchen and could hear the man babbling on. He started to feel better, able to twitch his fingers and move his feet. He reached out and grabbed the leg of the table, which he immediately regretted.

The man pulled him for a moment then came up to look at him. “Oh, you’re awake again? Can’t be having that can we?”

As the man raised the stunner again, Ian recognized him and tried to block the device but lost consciousness when the flood of pain overwhelmed him. He woke up again on his back on the cold cement floor and recognized that he was now in the garage. His arms bound in front of him and he was nude. He could hear someone talking but he didn’t pay attention as he scanned the room, hoping he wouldn’t see Michael.

“Well, well well. Look who’s awake.” Steve Coburn said, standing over him wearing his clothes. “It took you long enough. Guess you aren’t such a tough guy after all.” Almost casually, Steve kicked him viciously in the arm causing Ian to gasp with pain.

“Why are you doing this?” Ian managed to ask, trying to curl up and protect himself.

“Because you have something I want. You’ve always had something I want; the records, the money. All my life I’ve heard about the great Ian Thorpe and how I’d never measure up but guess what? You’re nothing. A piece of shit that doesn’t deserve any of it. Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of Michael but that little brat’s got to go and your dirty beasts. No room in Michael’s life for anyone but me now. He’ll be much better off with me and I’m going to fuck him tonight wearing your medals.”

Through his little speech, he kicked and punched Ian; seeming to enjoy taking his fists and feet to a helpless man. After a few more kicks, he straddled Ian’s chest and leaned down, drawing his fist back then changing his mind. His hand went to the fly of his borrowed shorts and he pulled his dick out.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked, trying to scramble away.

“I need to take a piss. Oh, you thought I was going to rape you? Don’t make me laugh. My dick’s too good for you.” Steve let loose with a stream of yellow liquid, trying to aim for Ian’s face but Ian kept scrambling back and the majority landed on his chest and arms.

Steve wasn’t happy with that and after tucking himself back in, dropped down and straddled Ian’s chest not seeming to mind he was sitting in his own urine. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Ian. Now I’m mad. The last thing Ian saw was Steve’s fist being drawn back when the pain exploded around his right eye.

Ian didn’t know how long it went; he stopped paying attention to Steve’s increasingly more garbled explanations of his plans for Michael. The man was obviously off his rocker and Ian tried to get away but things went dark again after another zap.

He woke up for the fifth time that day to the sounds of several people in the room with him, all sounding frantically businesslike. Someone cut the metal around his wrists and there was someone talking to him but he couldn’t see. God, he couldn’t see.

He must have been fighting them because he suddenly felt a familiar hand on his face. “Ian, Ian its Pieter. The paramedics are here but you have to stop fighting.”

“Pie-Pieter?” Ian grabbed Pieter’s hand frantically.

“Yes, Pieter.” The accented voice confirmed.

“Michael? Did he get Michael?”

“No, Michael got him. Michael’s fine.”

“Pieter, I can’t see. What did he do to my eyes?”

“The area’s swollen and there’s some damage around your eyes. Ian, you have to go to the hospital but you have to cooperate.”

“Michael, get Michael.”

“I will.”

Ian passed out as the paramedics lifted him and the next thing he knew, he was in a loud space again surrounded by people and the sharp smell of antiseptics filled his nose. A hand grabbed his chin and he felt another hand on his ankles and he totally freaked out, his legs and arms lashing out and trying to get the hands away from him as he screamed Michael’s name.

After many painful minutes, he suddenly heard Michael’s voice. God, where was he? Had Steve hurt him too? “Michael!”

&&

“Ian! Ian, wake up baby.”

Ian felt those comforting arms come around him and he could smell the familiar scent of the fabric softener Michael used.

“Michael?”

“Ssh. I’m right here. It’s okay.” Michael crooned, his hand rubbing up and down Ian’s arm.

Ian settled down in Michael’s arms, taking several deep breaths and resisting the urge to rip the wrapping off his eyes. “What time is it?

“Two, in the afternoon. You’ve been in and out of sleep since last night.”

“It’s Tuesday?”

“Yes, are you hungry?”

“Um, yes. I need to pee though. Get a shower and brush my teeth. I feel icky.”

“Pieter said you were running a little fever when he changed your dressings earlier. You want to get up now or rest for a minute?”

“I’ll get up.”

It was a struggle, getting out of the bedding with his achy muscles and he had to learn a new way to walk that didn’t jostle his sore head. Michael helped him with the toilet but only with his aim then helped him with getting the shirt and his sweats off.

The washing and a toothbrush went a long way to making him feel more human, helped along by the kiss Michael placed on the uninjured side of his mouth.

“Do you want breakfast in bed or are you up to going downstairs?”

“Downstairs. Where is everyone?”

“Chloe’s at school, Grant took the dogs to the vet and Pieter’s making dinner. He’s been on the phone with your mom and got one of your favorite recipes from her.”

“The dogs, are they okay?”

“They seem fine but we want to be sure. Pieter thinks Gadget might be a little dehydrated. Okay, we’re heading out the door. Put your hand on my elbow.”

Ian did so and Michael walked forward, giving him little clues as they went out into the upper hall and down the stairs.

“Mum called? You told her I was fine, right?”

“Yes, you talked to her last night. I know you don’t remember because those pills really knocked you out but we’ll call them later. One more step and then the kitchen, unless you want to sit in the family room.”

“Kitchen and can I get some coffee?”

“Let’s ask the chef. Hey Pieter look who’s awake.”

“Ian! Well, you’re looking better. Did you mention coffee? I’ll get the machine going.”

Michael pulled a chair out and put Ian’s hand on the chair back. “Here’s a chair. You’re facing the stove and the fridge is on your right.”

Ian sat down slowly, getting used to feeling his way around instead of seeing. “How long will I have to have this bandage?”

“The swelling was down a bit but you don’t want to risk your eyesight, my friend. Dr. Nelson said to give it a couple of days so probably until Friday. You have a follow up visit that morning. Michael, give him one of the ice packs; that should help it along.”

Ian heard a chair being moved and the door of the refrigerator being opened. “But I’ll be able to see?”

“Yes, there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage.”

“Ice pack, Ian.” Michael said, waiting for Ian to put his hand out. The sudden cold made Ian shiver for a second but felt heavenly on his aching face.

“Ian, do you want hot coffee or iced?” Pieter asked from across the room. “Hot might hurt your mouth.”

“Iced I suppose. With milk and sugar please.”

“You got it.”

“What are you making? Michael said you got one of mum’s recipes.”

“Grilled shrimp kebobs with Margaret’s marinade. Well, actually I think it’s your father’s.”

“It is but Mum’s the one who finally wrote it down.”

“Here’s your coffee, no extra charge for the straw.”

Ian took a sip then another. It wasn’t hot but it tasted good. “Michael, did you call Carl?”

“Yeah, he’s already on the case. He called a couple of hours ago. Steve was going to press assault charges on me but Pennsylvania has really clear laws about trespassing and our property is posted. Not to mention what he did to you.”

“He had surgery?”

“Um. Yeah. He’ll swim again but not for several months.” Michael voice was calm but it quivered slightly.

“What aren’t you saying?”

“The police want to talk to both of us again.”

“Okay.” Ian tried to shrug but it hurt too much. “We did nothing wrong, Michael and there’s nothing to fear.”

“I know but I’m nervous. Hey, um I promised you food. What do you feel like eating?”

“A sandwich would probably be best, or something I can eat with my fingers. I’m not sure I’m up to using a fork just yet.”

“I’ll make pitas. Pieter, do you want one?”

“Yes, that would be great. Put this in the fridge for me and I’ll clean up the work area.”

Ian could hear them moving around, the water in the sink being turned on and items being put on the counter. Ian felt a little buzz of happiness of being in his kitchen with his spouse and friend; there was a point yesterday when he’d wondered if he’d ever be here again. He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on it.

“We have turkey and roast beef. Which one do you want, Ian?”

“Ooh. Roast beef with the Gouda if there’s any left. Onions and the spicy mustard.” Ian answered, suddenly starving.

“Gouda on a sandwich? Ian, you are such a philistine. I’ll have the same but with mayonnaise.”

“I’m a philistine?” Ian asked, happy that Pieter was as Pieter always was: snarky and snippy.

“Yes, it’s my country’s cheese so I can eat how I want. You on the other hand are a foreigner and you should respect the cheese.”

“Get off of yourself, Pieter; be sure and move Grant over first though.”

“Oh, you’re going to be like that, are you?”

Ian and Pieter were still squabbling when Grant came back with the dogs and Chloe, who squealed when she saw her papa in the kitchen.

“Papa, you’re out of bed.” She ran over then stopped to give him a gentle hug.

“So I am. Chloe, you make me sound like the laziest man on earth.” Ian put his arm around her, giving her a quick kiss on the head. He’d meant to kiss her forehead but it was close enough.

“Oh no, Papa. That’s Oom Pieter; even Daddy says so.” Chloe said matter-of-factly, snitching a piece of cheese from Ian’s plate.

The men were all silent, and then Pieter squawked out, “Michael! What have you been telling this poor innocent child?”

Ian laughed softly, revealing in his family being around him and listened to Chloe’s giggles as Michael tried to defend himself.

^^

By eight, Ian’s body was one big ache but he’d managed to coherently talk to his parents, his sister, Michael’s mélange of parents and siblings before rounding it out returning calls to Bob, Tracy, Amanda, Miles and almost every other person he’d ever known. Well, probably not but it seemed like that by the time he hauled himself to his feet.

Chloe was quite amused that Ian was going up to bed at the same time she was but Michael was resolute that Ian needed his rest. When Pieter and Grant backed him up, Ian gave in and let Chloe take his hand.

“Papa, I’m making funny faces at you.”

“You keep doing that and your face might freeze. Daddy and I won’t pay for surgery to fix it either.”

“Yes you will.” Chloe said with assurance.

“Oh really?”

“Yes because you lo-o-o-ve me a whole bunch. Papa, will you tuck me in?”

“Of course.”

&&

Ian made his way down the hall by himself. Well, Michael was behind him somewhere but Ian wanted to do it alone. His hand touched a door frame and he stopped.

“Is this the bedroom?”

“Only if you want to sleep in the linen closet.” Michael said, sounding amused.

“I just might if you keep that up.” Ian said, moving on.

He finally found the bedroom and opened the door, trying to remember how the room was laid out. He confidently started out, not surprised when his hand hit the poster of their bed. “Ha! Right where I thought it would be.”

Ian managed in the bathroom with only a few pointers then slid into bed, taking the glass of water and swallowing the pills Michael gave him. He groaned as he moved, trying to get comfortable. “Michael love, will you lay down with me for a while? Just until I go to sleep? I know it-”

“Of course, baby.” Michael climbed in and after some maneuvering; he spooned in behind Ian to hold him securely. “Are you comfy?”

“Um hm.” Ian took Michael’s hand and moved it down until it was resting over his groin.

“Baby, you-“

“No, I couldn’t get it up right now if I tried but this is how you always hold me. It makes me feel safe.”

“I’m all over that then.” Michael said, snuggling in.

Ian stroked his hand down Michael’s arm. “I love you, Michael even if you’re showing a distressingly bossy side.”

“I love you too, Ian you stubborn sod.”

&&

Carl was in the house when Ian woke up the next day. He’d had another night of dreamless sleep due to the pills and managed to not panic when he tried to open his eyes. He could tell Carl was there because he heard the familiar rumbling of the attorney’s court trained voice.

He rolled over and figured out he was alone when no one rushed to keep him in bed. He moved his arms and shoulders experimentally, please to find the soreness had lessened considerably then got up and felt his way into the bathroom. He sat down to pee, not wanting to make a mess but didn’t flush. The more time he had alone, the better.

The bandages around his wrists were easy to take care of even without his eyes. Then he reached up to tackle the gauze and pads around his head. He wasn’t going to even try to open his eyes but if he didn’t get his hair washed, he was going to cut it all off.

His fingers worked on the material but he was soon frustrated and searched in the medicine cabinet for the scissors. Crap, didn’t they have scissors in there? He thought he remembered seeing some but his careful fingers didn’t encounter them.

“Ian, what are you doing?”

Almost jumping into the sink, Ian barely managed not to scream. He heard Pieter moving towards him and a hand came to rub his back.

“I’m sorry, I thought you heard me. Breathe. That’s it. Yes, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Give me a minute.” Ian managed to gasp out. Pieter got him a glass of water and he drank it gratefully, his heart finally slowing.

“The question remains, what were you doing?” Pieter asked once he felt Ian relax.

“I was trying to get this blasted thing off my head or I’m going to rip my hair out.”

“Ah. Well, do you promise to take it easy with your eyes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Sit down and I’ll get it off for you.” Pieter said amiably, moving Ian toward the toilet after closing the lid.

“Just like that?” Ian said, surprised that Pieter wasn’t going to argue with him.

“Yes, you’re an adult and I’m sure you’re aware of the risks. You don’t want to be blind anymore than you want to saddle Michael with a blind husband, I’m sure.”

Ian sighed, he really hadn’t intended to peek but did Pieter have to lay the guilt on that thickly. “You’re an evil cruel man Pieter.”

“Yes I am and imagine how much more cruel I’ll be when I graduate.” Pieter said as he unwound the gauze. “I’ll be the doctor who tells people that they can keep on smoking and drinking and I’ll be collecting my fees after their funerals.”

“You really expect that to go over well with your patients? How many children smoke and drink?”

“Sadly I’m sure there are a few. Okay, the gauze is off and I’m going to remove the pads over your eyes. Try very hard not to blink or open them or you’ll get an eyeful of the goop.”

“Goop? My, your technical prowess warms my heart.” Ian said as he felt the air hit his eye area. He didn’t blink but it was surprisingly difficult to keep still and not try to feel the area.

“Laugh it up, kangaroo boy. Tobramycin ophthalmic gel. Are you happy now?”

“Delirious. Now turn the shower on before Michael comes up and finds us.” Ian stood and pulled off his shirt and boxer-briefs.

“Oh, that sounds really illicit. Should I take my clothes off too, to really give him ideas?”

“Only if you want to rub my feet like Michael does.”

“He rubs your feet? He spoils you horribly doesn’t he?”

Ian grinned widely as he tested the water and got it. “He certainly does and it’s nothing that I don’t deserve.”

“I can’t believe he rubs your feet. Grant doesn’t rub my feet; I’m suddenly feeling very neglected.” Pieter said a pout in his voice.

“That’s because my future doctor is going to be a physical therapist; your future doctor is a geeky business man.” Ian said with deep satisfaction as he found the shampoo.

“Geeky! Grant’s not- oh who am I kidding? The big lug is geeky, I can’t deny it and I’ll have you know my future doctor is now a college professor. He’s already promised to play Professor and the Naughty Student with me.”

“Grant’s got a teaching gig? When did that happen?”

“He was going to tell you on Monday but-” Pieter paused, unsure how to word it.

“I got the stuffing beat out of me. You can say it. What time is it by the way?”

“After eight, Wednesday morning.”

“Why is Carl here?”

“He came with the police and he’s doing an admirable job. That detective can barely get a word in sideways. Put your hand out, I’ve got the conditioner and you could really use it.”

“Gee, thanks Pieter. How does my face look?”

“You’re still very pretty if a little puffy. You’ve got two rather impressive shiners so you look like you’ve been in a bar fight in the kind of bar none of us would ever go into.”

“What kind of bar would that be?”

“Those places in the movies, where your feet stick to the floor and they’ve never heard of washing the glassware.”

“Pieter, I don’t think those kinds of places have glassware.”

“You’re probably right. Are you all done?”

“Yes, could you hand me a towel?”

Pieter put the towel in Ian’s hand and stood by to help him get out of the shower. “Sit down for a minute and I’ll redress your eyes. I’ve got something here that might help.”

Ian sat silently as Pieter gently applied more goop and put the pads back. Something cool was placed over them and Pieter buckled it on, his fingers working quickly.

“There, how does that feel?”

Ian felt the strange thing; it felt like a mask filled with cool gel. “What is this?”

“One of those sleeping mask things, I saw it at the drug store this morning. This way you won’t have to hold the ice to your face anymore. Now stop talking so I can do your lip. You know, you’re really lucky you didn’t need stitches anywhere.”

“I kn- Pieter, that stuff is disgusting.”

“I told you to not talk, you never listen to me. Ah- Ian, close your mouth. Allow me to enjoy this rare opportunity.”

&&

Ian felt a little silly in the ice mask contraption and he was sure Pieter had dressed him in stripes and plaids although Pieter swore he hadn’t. Ian didn’t care. He needed coffee and food. He even skipped trying to figure out how to manage down the stairs, accepting Pieter’s arm so he could get to the kitchen faster.

Carl’s rumble stopped as Pieter led him by the doorway and Ian could almost imagine the looks he was getting.

“Baby, you’re awake!” Michael said, coming over to give him a quick kiss.

“Yes I am and dressed and showered. Now I must eat and coffee.” Ian said, sliding his arm around Michael’s waist.

“Coffee isn’t a verb.”

“It is to me, love.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Thorpe but now that you’re here maybe you could answer a question for us.” A voice said from Ian’s left.

Ian drew himself up and turned in that direction, speaking in his most icy and correct tone. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have once I’ve eaten. And in case you didn’t notice, I can’t see you and it’s incredibly rude of you to speak to me without even giving me your name. I’m sure you’re anxious but really, it’s very unprofessional of you. Michael love, would you mind taking me to the kitchen?”

“Sure baby. I’ll be right back, Carl.” Michael tucked Ian’s hand into the crook of his arm and led him off to the kitchen, Pieter trailing behind.

“Good morning, Ian.” Grant said.

“You’re home? You’re not out spanking naughty schoolboys?” Oh, it was mean but really Pieter shouldn’t say those things.

“Pieter!” Grant and Michael said together.

“What?”

Ian took the opportunity to slip over to the fridge, leaving Pieter to fend on his own, pleased when he got the handled on the second try. He found the carton of milk which was always kept on the shelf in the door. He pulled it out and put it on the counter, reaching up to find one of the plastic cups. He poured a half of a cup full and gulped it down before Grant, Pieter and Michael noticed what he was up to.

“Ian, god. I’m sorry you must be starving. There’s some pancake batter left; do you want a jelly roll up or just plain pancakes?” Michael said as he came over.

“A jelly roll up sounds good. With the peach preserves?”

“Coming right up.” Michael stepped away and busied himself between the fridge and the stove. Pieter poured the coffee and Grant gave Ian a hand finding the table.

“Grant my friend! Pieter was telling me about your new job. Where will you be teaching?”

“Chestnut Hill College.”

“That’s awesome, Grant. Seriously, good show.”

“Thank you, Ian.”

“Now you can support Pieter in the style he’d like to become accustomed to.” Ian said with a smirk.

“Ian!” All three of the other men yelled. Ah, it was good to have things back to normal.

&&

Detective Branch was much more polite by the time Ian came into the living room and apologized for what happened earlier, shaking Ian’s hand after Carl introduced them. Also there was Detective Yarrow and DA Vacarro and they all sat down, Michael sitting closely beside Ian on the sofa.

The interview was short and concise, most of the questions being asked by the DA who had a nice mellow voice and a gentle but firm manner as he confirmed the details of Ian’s previous statement. They were almost done when Ian went quiet, remembering something.

“Mr. Vacarro, Steve was wearing a uniform when I opened the door, the brown kind like from UPS. He must have taken it off somewhere when he took my clothes. Did you ever find it?”

“A real uniform, Mr. Thorpe?”

“It had the logo on the sleeve; he had a brown clipboard thing. Did you find it and where did he get it?”

&&

The cops and DA left quickly after that, without really finishing the interview. Carl explained that there had been an UPS driver left for dead the next county over and the police there had no leads in the case. He warned them that the police would probably come back, with a search warrant if necessary to look for the uniform.

“Carl, they don’t need a search warrant. Is the driver-?”

“He’ll be fine. They found him in time, he was bound with wire and beaten up but he’ll recover. Guys, I’d like to stay longer but I need to get back to the office. Always a pleasure seeing you and Ian, I’m glad you’re up and about again.”

The lawyer shook hands all around and went out, leaving them alone. Michael’s hand found Ian’s and squeezed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, love. What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“Oh. That means it’s time for ‘A Wedding Story’ on TLC. I can’t watch but I can still listen to it.”

“Good idea. I’ll make sure to tell you all about the horrid fashion choices.” Pieter said, taking Ian’s other hand and leading him into the family room.

“That’s very kind of you Pieter.” Ian said, dragging Michael along behind them. “Is now the time to mention that we’re living with an old man?”

“Old man?” Michael asked, laughing a little.

“Oh yes. Our own Grant turned thirty on Sunday and didn’t say a word. He almost got away with it too.”

“Grant!” Pieter and Michael said together.

Ian smirked as he sat down, pulling Michael down so his head was in Ian’s lap while Pieter snarked at Grant in the kitchen.

They came back in and Pieter replaced the ice mask making sure to tell Ian that the mask was indeed pink and that he looked ridiculous while handing him a cup of tea and going off to sit with Grant in a snit.

After picking apart the show, Grant announced that he was hungry again and went to make lunch after assuring Ian that his ancient decrepit body was up for the trip.

“You see why I didn’t say anything? Do I need this kind of grief?”

“Obviously you do or you wouldn’t be living with Pieter,” Michael said.

“Oh, that’s rich. Now he’s got you in on it too. Fine, go ahead and make fun of me. You’re all going to be thirty too, you know. Just you wait. Are any of you listening to me?

“Yes, beminde. Now hush up and make lunch; Oprah’s on.”

Michael snorted, poking at Ian’s knee. “He’s got him barefoot and in the kitchen.”

“And under his thumb. But Grant doesn’t rub Pieter’s feet.”

“Shocking! Then again, I’ve seen those feet and I wouldn’t rub them for a million bucks.”

“People with prehensile toes should not be talking about other people’s feet, Michael.”

“My toes are not prehensile.”

“Michael love, I hate to break it to you but they are. I’ve seen you pick things up with them.”

“Ian!”

“Hey, don’t poke me. I only speak the truth.”

“Well you certainly like those feet when they-”

“Michael!” Ian said, his hand skating across Michael’s face to cover his mouth.

“Oh ho!” Pieter exclaimed. “What do your feet do, Michael? You can tell me.”

“I don’t think he can, Pieter. Unlike you, we don’t go blabbing about our sex lives.” Ian said, as prim as prim could be causing Michael to chuckle.

“God, Ian. You couldn’t pull that look off when you were a virgin; don’t try it now.”
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The Sweet Life