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Thread: Watching Brad

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Hi, Frank and Clover.
    Thanks for keeping Neil's great tome alive and well.


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Neil, I finally got caught up with Watching Brad. What a great epic story. (I couldn't call it just a story). Now I have to wait like everyone else. It's been so funny to read all the comments by everyone about having to wait until the next installment. I haven't had that pleasure 😉 until now. It's now so tough thinking about these family members, and they seem like my family, all the time and not being able to read on. But no pressure. I know you've had some tough times. We all understand. In the mean time, I decided to check out Best Buddies. What a great story!! And some hot sex as well! Wow! 😜 Marty and Kevin have a great relationship with all sorts of love, sex, tragedy, romance, and fun all rolled into one. I read both the original and the updated versions. I have read through Conclusion Part 3L. I assume there is more coming. Honestly, I was so moved by the original ending, (I balled at my desk at work for about 10 minutes when I read he original ending) that I wasn't sure I wanted to read the revised. But I did. And I'm glad I did. Wouldn't want to miss out on all that "fun" that Marty and Kevin had together. Well, guess I've bored you long enough. Sorry for the length of this epistle. Hope you are feeling well. Winter is almost over. Be safe. Be healthy. Be happy.
    Bill

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Bill,
    It's great to hear from you on your foray into all things Neil.


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

  4. #3104
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    Re: Watching Brad

    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    No more emotional stories for awhile. I don't think I'll ever write another one like Best Buddies again. It's just too draining.

    Anyway, thanks for the kind words. I'll post the next part as soon as I get it written.
    Post #3 in this thread.

    You just had no idea, did'ja?

    Sending this link to a friend who isn't currently on JUB, I think he'll enjoy it, but I warned him it's long - like War And Peace.
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    10 year anniversary coming up. I guess I will have to finish this. I remember when this was first written. How time flies

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Such a great story. I wish I could stick with it all day T.T

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    Re: Watching Brad

    *BUMP*

    This deserves a bump every so often.
    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    WATCHING BRAD
    Part I

    I hate moving, which I was doing. I hate it more when it's hot and humid outside, which it was. Add to that the fact that my buddy, Alec, copped out on me somewhere between the pizza place and my new house, and the fact that there was a wicked storm on the way, and I was at my absolute lowest point. I looked into the back of the truck and saw the piles of stuff I had to carry in. The moving company had already moved and unloaded most of my household, but here I stood, in my driveway, with a half-ton truck full of boxes and the last, precious items that I refused to trust to the movers, no matter how healthy they looked.

    I glanced across the street toward the west. The clouds didn't look pleasant at all. They were dark and grey and I could see the sheets of rain falling out of them in the distance. I knew they'd be overhead soon and I'd be fucked.

    Nothing for it, then. I dropped the tailgate of the truck and started hauling boxes. I could only hope that asshole friend of mine would show up and help me with the big stuff before the storm hit. I was pissed, to be sure. I couldn't get him on his cell phone and I had no idea where he was. I was not a happy camper!

    By the time I got the boxes inside, I could hear thunder rumbling ominously. I flipped on the central air and tried to phone Alec one more time. I tried both his cell phone and his home phone to no avail. I was on my own. I hoofed it back outside and jumped up into the truck bed and pulled out all eight drawers from my Grandma's antique dresser and made two piles of them on the tailgate. I jumped down, grabbed up one of the piles, and headed into the house. I carried them into my bedroom and carefully set them on the floor against the wall and headed back to the living room.

    I stopped dead in my tracks. Standing there inside the door, holding the other four drawers in his hands, was a young man. "Where do you want these?" he said. His voice was pleasant and his smile was friendly.

    "Umm," I said, stupidly and approached him. "I'll take them."

    "I've got ‘em. Just show me where to put them."

    I swept my hand back. "Last door on the right. Thanks."

    He walked past me and I watched him as he disappeared down the hallway. He was a bit shorter than me, but I had on a lot more clothes. All he wore were a pair of white sneakers and a pair of very tight, very short, cut-off jeans. The elastic band of his underwear poked above the denim. His back looked strong and his arms looked even stronger. His brown hair was neatly cut and trimmed, hanging long in the back and short and spikey on top. I couldn't remember what his face looked like except that it wasn't unpleasant to look at. I had been so stunned when I saw him that I forgot to pay attention.

    He appeared in the hallway again, walking toward me. He was smiling a bright, welcoming smile. One of his upper front teeth was chipped. He had a young, unblemished face, and a slightly upturned nose. His chest looked just as powerful as his arms. A smattering of short hairs shadowed his muscular pecs and a small patch of hair centered itself between them. A widening trail spread down stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. It was the bulge in his jeans which caught my attention, though. Either he had a couple of rolled-up socks stuffed in his pants or he was a very lucky boy.

    "Hi, I'm Brad," he said. I liked his voice. He held out his hand.

    I looked up, embarrassed. I'm sure I was blushing. "Oh, um. Sorry," I stammered as I grasped his hand in a shake. "I, um. . . I'm Ted."

    "Hey, don't sweat it, Ted," he said. "It takes everyone by surprise."

    I released his hand.

    "Come on," he said, "we better get the rest of your stuff inside before it rains. Gonna be quite a storm. Tornado warnings and all that."

    I turned and followed him out the door. "Great," I joked. "I move into a new house and it ends up in Oz before I get settled in."

    "Say ‘hi' to Dorothy for me." I could hear him chuckling.

    I walked to the back of the truck and was just ready to climb onto the tailgate when Brad approached the side, placed his hand on the wall of the truck, and vaulted over it, landing on sure, steady feet on the truck bed.

    "Dresser?" he asked, and I answered "Yeah." I grabbed the base of the dresser at my end and Brad grabbed the other end at the top. Together, we moved the dresser back. He set his end on the tailgate for a moment so he could grab the base, then lifted it and, with the skill of a gymnast, stepped off the truck onto the driveway.

    I started to like Brad immediately. He was a powerhouse and a workhorse, and he treated all my stuff with delicate crystal care. He worked hard to help me get my things inside before the storm hit and, within minutes, my shirt was soaked with sweat as I tried to keep up with him. His own upper body was covered with a healthy sheen of perspiration. I had to admire his muscular youth, and I wish I still had some of my own at that moment. By the time we carried the last piece in, I was gasping for breath, my desk-job muscles were weakening quickly, and he was still smiling.

    Thank goodness the central air was kicking in and the air inside was starting to feel fresher already. I quickly found a box in the bathroom, ripped it open, and grabbed a couple of towels. I returned to the living room, tossed one to Brad, and told him to have a seat on the sofa. "I'll be right back." I went back to the truck. The rain was just beginning to fall. The heavy clouds made the afternoon light look like dusk and lightning flashes shattered the dimness and heavy thunder rolled across the sky. I grabbed the pizzas and the 12-pack of beer, locked the truck doors, and headed back inside.

    I dug out the coffee table from the corner, set it in front of the sofa, and placed the pizzas on it. Brad had spread the towel over the sofa and was sitting on it. "The least I can do is feed you," I said. "Are you old enough to drink?"

    "I'm 19," he said. Then, with a smile, he added, "Sorry. I don't have my ID on me. My wallet makes my ass look lumpy."

    I was tempted to ask how he could squeeze a wallet into that back pocket. Instead, I asked, "Beer?"

    "Sure."

    I ripped open the lid of the case of beer, grabbed two bottles, and handed him one. We twisted off the tops and took a long, refreshing swig. Outside, the storm began in earnest and the house became eerily dark.

    "You saved my ass, man," I said as I set down the beer and began opening my shirt. It was sticking to me all over. I felt a little self-conscious when I pulled it off. At 32, I wasn't horribly out of shape yet, but after almost 10 years of sitting behind a desk, I certainly didn't look as good as the young man sitting on my sofa. "Do you mind if I leave this off for awhile?"

    "Hell, no, man," he replied. "It's your house. You shouldn't have to ask."

    "If I had a body like yours, I wouldn't have."

    Brad actually blushed. "Thanks," he said shyly. "You're not so bad. Don't sweat it. Now, if you looked like my Dad, I might object. I don't know how I ended up like this when I see him. He's so skinny."

    I finished toweling myself as I turned on a few lights, and dropped to the sofa in near exhaustion. I opened both pizzas. "Ham, pepperoni, cheese and pineapple," I pointed to one box, and then, as I pointed to the other, "everything except anchovies. Help yourself."

    Brad eagerly grabbed a slice of ‘everything' pizza and set about devouring it hungrily.

    "So, I take it you live around here?"

    "Yeah," he nodded his head to one side. "Right next door. With the black shutters. I still live there with Mom and Dad. At least until I finish university."

    "Oh? What are you studying?"

    "Engineering at Ryerson."

    "Good university."

    "Yeah. My older brother graduated from there a few years ago."

    "At least you're close enough," I said. "What do you do, take the Go train?"

    "Yeah. It's cheaper than living in Toronto, and Mom does all the cooking and she washes my clothes. All I have to do is sit around the house looking pretty." Brad stopped chewing and said, "Aw, geez! Sorry, Ted. Mom's always saying that to everybody."

    "Well, you are a handsome young man."

    "Thanks." He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. Then he looked at me again. "I'm glad you bought this house. I like you. You're a lot nicer than Old Man Perkins. That guy gave me the creeps. All he did all day was sit around looking at me with this scowl on his face."

    I nodded. "Good old Mr. Perkins. I met him only once. After that, I made my real estate agent deal with him. I couldn't stand him."

    Brad leaned forward to grab another slice of pizza. "He didn't approve with the way I dressed."

    I couldn't understand why. I wasn't even gay and I didn't find Brad difficult to look at. He was like a walking art exhibit. I pointed at his rounded crotch. "That probably had a lot to do with it, right?"

    He glanced down at himself. "Probably," he said, "but it didn't matter what I wore. He just didn't like me and I didn't like him. I dressed like this just to piss him off."

    I thought for a moment. Then, stupidly, I put my foot in it and asked, "Is that really you in there?"

    He looked at me and I nodded toward his crotch. "Yeah," he said. "It's all me. Don't know where I got that, either. Not from Dad, that's for sure. I think I look a lot like my Uncle Andy. My Mom's brother. Maybe I got it from her side of the family."

    "Doesn't it. . . like. . . get in the way?"

    "Sometimes," He said. "Can I have another slice?"

    "Sure, help yourself."

    He snatched up another slice and settled back once more. "That's why I have to wear underwear. I flop around too much if I don't, and it hurts." With a wicked, almost evil smile, he added, "Mind you, sometimes I wouldn't wear any just to tease Old Man Perkins. He'd just look at me and call me a ‘prevert'."

    "It's ‘pervert'," I corrected.

    "I know, but Perkins always said ‘prevert'." He laughed. "Look who was calling the kettle black! He was the one who was always watching me. Hell, one night I caught him standing at my bedroom window watching me jerk off. He just called me a ‘prevert' and kept on watching me."

    That surprised me. "You didn't stop?"

    "Nope. I was in my own bedroom. He was trespassing. I think the old guy was just jealous."

    "Whoa!" I exclaimed. "That's wild."

    "Yeah, it was. The first time, I did it just to piss him off more. After that, it became a bit of a game."

    "You did it more than once?"

    "Sure," Brad said. "Every night as long as the weather was good. One night, he was standing out there in the rain with an umbrella over his head. Guess it was more fun for him than watching cable."

    "Holy shit," I said as I shook my head. "Why didn't you call the police on him?"

    "What for? He never did anything except look."

    "But peeking in someone's window like that is a crime."

    Brad shrugged. "Hell, I was probably the only entertainment the old guy had. Sometimes I'd see him out back for hours just waiting for me. At first, I did it just to piss him off, but after awhile, it was like he looked forward to it so much that he'd be disappointed if I closed the curtains."

    "But you didn't even like the guy!"

    Brad paused between bites of his pizza and looked at me. "No, I didn't, but that doesn't make him any less deserving of a little bit of happiness once in awhile."

    Outside, the storm still raged. Rain pounded against the windows and roof and I could actually feel the house shaking in the wind. But the storm didn't concern me as much as what I was hearing. I shook my head again. "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't understand. You couldn't stand the guy and yet you entertained him every night?"

    Brad pulled his knees up, planting his feet flat on the floor. He spread his legs, turned his whole body to face me, and rested his elbows on his legs. He stared at the floor for a bit, then looked at me and said, "I didn't like him. He gave me the creeps. But he never did anything to me. He never caused any trouble for me, not even when I broke his window with a soccer ball. His wife died of cancer when I was 10 years old, and she'd been sick for years. He had a tough life and there wasn't much happiness in it."

    He paused again and turned reflective. "At first, it was just to annoy him, like I said. And then, one night a month or so later, after I'd finished. . . you know. . . I looked at him in the window. He had such a sad look in his eyes, but he was smiling. And then he said ‘thank you' and turned and walked back home. After that, I was doing it because it made him happy for a few minutes a day."

    He wasn't bragging. I could see it in his face and I could hear it in his voice. No matter how he felt about Mr. Perkins, he was willing to do what he could to make Perkins' life a bit better.

    "The world needs more people like you, Brad," I said seriously.

    Brad hung his head, a large grin on his lips. He blushed again.

    * * * * *

    We sat talking after that. I told him all about my work in Toronto and why I preferred to live in a smaller town that the big city. I told him about my failed marriage and showed him pictures of my daughter, Lindsay. "She's 9 years old now."

    "She looks like a ballerina," Brad mentioned.

    "She takes dancing lessons, but she doesn't really like ballet. She just takes it because it helps her with her other dancing."

    "I can't dance," Brad said. "I have two feet. Both of them are left."

    I snickered. I was going to enjoy having Brad as a neighbour. The storm was fading away into the east. Only the distant rumble of thunder and a gentle rain remained.

    "Looks like Dorothy is going to have to do without your company tonight."

    I looked up at the ceiling. "Looks like you're right." Then I looked at him. "Can I ask you a favour?"

    "Sure."

    "Would you help me set up my bed before you go? I was just going to crash on the sofa tonight, but while you're here. . ."

    "No problem," he said as he jumped to his feet. "Lead the way."

    I tried to rise out of the sofa and suddenly realized how sore and tired I was. Like I said, I hate moving. I sank back into the sofa with a groan. Brad laughed, stepped in front of me, grabbed me under my arms, and pulled me up. "Come on, Old Man. On your feet." When I was standing, he added, "Do you need Uncle Bradley to carry you?"

    I laughed. "I think I can walk, thank you."

    As we were putting the bed frame together, Brad said, "I'll come over tomorrow and help you unpack and rearrange your furniture."

    "You don't have to do that," I said hastily. "I can manage."

    "I don't mind. Nothing better to do. How does 10 o'clock sound?"

    "I'll be on my way to Toronto to take back the truck and get my car."

    Brad stopped. "Oh, really? Where in Toronto?"

    "Mississauga."

    "Cool," he said. "Could I go with you and have you drop me off at Ryerson? I need to get some books from the library. I want to get a head start on the next semester."

    "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me. I'll pick you up on the way back."

    "I can take the Go."

    "You could, but you're not. I'll pick you up on my way back."

    Brad smiled his thanks and nodded. "What time tomorrow?"

    "Is 9 o'clock too early?"

    "That's fine with me. I'll be ready."

    Before long, my bed was set up and Brad even helped me make it up with sheets and pillowcases. I offered him one more beer before he left, which he accepted, along with one more slice of pizza. That boy could eat!

    Then it was time for him to go home. "See you tomorrow morning."

    I held out my hand for him to shake. He took it, and I grabbed his forearm with my other hand. "Thanks for all your help, Brad. I really mean it. I would have been screwed if you didn't come over."

    "Any time, Ted." For the first time, I noticed how green his eyes were and how bright his smile was. It was a warm, friendly face, and it all belonged to a warm, friendly young man. "I'm going to enjoy having you as a neighbour."

    I smiled back at him. "I think I'm going to enjoy being it."

    With a final shake, I released his hand and he left.

    To Be Continued
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

  8. #3108
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    Re: Watching Brad

    I just finished TAKING CARE OF JASON last night. I can only say...WOW...sex fiction usually does *nothing* for me, but I was even glued to that story. You are a great author.

    WATCHING BRAD, though, is the gold standard...compared to ALL fiction that has ever been written. I still consider it the most captivating and interesting "book story" I have ever read, and I don't expect it to change in this lifetime, because in all of my experiences there's nothing that comes even remotely close.

    I got a non-JUB friend started on it, and all I did a few minutes ago was to find which chapter ended with Jeremy's five words. Just that simple task bust the waterworks dam open again.

    Hoping there's still some story left, waiting to escape...and, as for TAKING CARE OF JASON, I don't think you intended to end it there, but it happens to be at a good spot if there's nothing more. Shawnie will just have more work, that's all.
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

  9. #3109
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    Re: Watching Brad

    Christmas is a good time to inquire, does anyone have an update on Neil?

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    Re: Watching Brad

    I just finished reading Watching Brad. I have to admit that I was so interested in the store that I skipped over all the comments to keep reading the story. Now after about a week of spending every spare minute reading the story, I am sad to have come to the last installment. I have fallen in love with these characters, and I had hoped the story would continue. In looking back at some of the more recent comments, I see that the author may have had personal issues that have kept him from continuing the story. I hope that some day he will come back to this great story and give us more installments. To the author, thank you. You have made me laugh and cry, you have filled me with hope in what love can do to build families and heal wounds, and you have made me horny. It has been well with my time to follow my addiction for this story. Now I can finally get some sleep, but I still hope for more installments.

  11. #3111
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    Re: Watching Brad

    Scotty,
    Welcome to Watching Brad.
    Neil is still around, but his back issues keep him in constant pain and make it hard for him to write like he used to.
    He has some other stories in the forum you might enjoy - they are shorter than Brad, but they're fun.

    Neil has become more bionic since his last post - a pair of new hips later, but his spine is the overriding issue, sadly.


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Neil, if you are there ...
    This is my first post ever ... I spent days and nights reading your stories, especially Watching Brad. I laughed, I cried (joy and sorrow) and fell in love with your characters. I cannot tell you how very much you have affected me and my world view of humanity. I hope and pray that you are in a good place now (although probably not as spry as even in 2006). You have been a blessing.

  13. #3113
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    Re: Watching Brad

    Friend,
    I completely agree with you. Neil'so work is amazing.

  14. #3114
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    Re: Watching Brad

    Neil is still around the boards, just not writing much anymore from his back situation.
    He's a bit more bionic than he was when Brad started.


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

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    Re: Watching Brad

    He's actually around here quite a lot, but more in Current Events than in the other forums.

    I fully agree with Friend, Scotty, etc. - and Friend, you no doubt notice how *MANY* posts appeared from people who, like you, were saying they were making their very-first-ever posts here.

    Whether short or long, this story is indeed the best literature I have read in my lifetime - with nothing else coming even CLOSE to it. I don't expect, either, that I will ever read anything else that approaches it. I couldn't begin to count how many times I cried, or laughed, or hoped (in the same way I hoped for good things for a very dearest or loved friend), or simply had to stop reading for a few minutes with my mouth hanging agape...sometimes the tears and the laughter came from separate thoughts within less than a minute of each other.

    "Are you my new daddy?" Holy Mother of God...POW!
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

  16. #3116
    Are you reading this?
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    Re: Watching Brad

    I haven't forgotten this story. I'm working on what ultimately will be the 'finale'. It's in my head. I just have to get it punched into the keyboard.

    It was planned for Christmas 2015, but then that stupid fall which put me in the hospital for a month. Since then, it's been a very rough go. On top of my health issues, I've been having an almost year-long battle with the government for my Old Age Security. A few serious mix-ups meant that I had to reapply the same month that the the OAS was supposed to begin. That meant that my disability pension had to be extended and, ultimately, paid back. Until last month, I wasn't even sure if I was going to have money to buy a loaf of bread. And all this with the winter ice which now terrifies me like you wouldn't believe.

    Anyway, I won't forget (or forego) the story. If at all possible, I will complete the final chapter. I want it to have a good ending. A really good ending.

    Neil
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    Take care of yourself, Neil. No more falls allowed.

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    Quote Originally Posted by sheep View Post
    Take care of yourself, Neil. No more falls allowed.
    You think I scheduled the other two?

    On the up side, a month in the hospital is a great way to lose weight. On the down side, though, I now limp on both legs.
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Neil, Take care of you ... the story is dear to my heart right now, but it's source is also held dear.
    Friend

    Not sure where I am going, but certainly enjoying the ride!

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Quote Originally Posted by frankfrank View Post
    and Friend, you no doubt notice how *MANY* posts appeared from people who, like you, were saying they were making their very-first-ever posts here.

    "Are you my new daddy?" Holy Mother of God...POW!
    Yes, the first time posts were edifying ... so good to see.

    Your quote of the "five words" sent chills through my body and nearly brought me to tears again.
    Friend

    Not sure where I am going, but certainly enjoying the ride!

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Take care of yourself Neil, that is priory number one! Looking forward to reading the wrap up on a great story!

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    Quote Originally Posted by frankfrank View Post
    He's actually around here quite a lot, but more in Current Events than in the other forums.
    Actually, it's not as much as one would think. When you can't sit for long, stand for long, sleep for long, or even walk very far, one does what one can do and then stops and does something else until one can't do that anymore.

    That's the problem with writing. I'm good for a few paragraphs and then I have to stop for awhile.

    Everything in moderation.
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    It's so good to hear from you, even though the news is not as good. You've endeared yourself to hundreds if not more thru your epic novel of love, transformation, and challenge. May time give you healing.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    I am so glad you see posts from you Neil. This story is by far the best one around. I also like Jason too, but this one just is a dear one to me because with it you hooked me into reading.

    I'm glad you are doing better now and I am so sorry you had such a hard time with OAS. I hope things are worked out now.

    Thank you so very much Neil.

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    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    Everything in moderation.
    A good Thomist .. with the added: except for moderation. Love you!
    Friend

    Not sure where I am going, but certainly enjoying the ride!

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    Quote Originally Posted by caddymac View Post
    Thank you so very much Neil.
    I remember. One of my proudest accomplishments. I think you were my biggest incentive to write.

    When I was a kid, I hated reading because I had to. When I discovered that it was more fun when I wanted to read, it became a lot more fun.

    Well done, my friend.
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Friend1720 View Post
    A good Thomist .. with the added: except for moderation. Love you!
    When I started this story, it wasn't unusual for me to sit at my computer from morning to night and write a chapter a day. Now, just sitting is bad enough, but add a sore shoulder and sore wrist to the mix and I'm down paragraphs instead of pages.

    Those were the days.
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Hey, Neil,
    It's such a nice, balmy day outside today, why don't you take the laptop out to your back steps and enjoy the weather - I'm sure the cool breeze will help keep any swelling down... until the water in your body freezes and expands!


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Quote Originally Posted by DonQuixote View Post
    Hey, Neil,
    It's such a nice, balmy day outside today
    Indeed. A nice, balmy minus 9. (I'll let you do the math. I still haven't figured it out. You know, it would be much easier if your country just went metric.)
    Quando omni flunkus, moritati.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    ^ Only in my dreams.

    Furthermore, we should "get with the system" and CORRECTLY write calendar dates in ascending day/month/year order.

    "We" don't really need to put in those extra U's, and change Z's to S's, and add that extra syllable to "aluminum" and extra letters into "jewelry" etc. - the above would be a great compromise, haha.

    How many countries write dates bass-ackwards like "we" do? Are there any others?
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Frank, the date should actually be year/month/day - then they sort properly.

    Neil, that would be 16F. ((-(9*2 = -18) - 10% Value = -16) + 32= 16)


    And I know, if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest . . .

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    Re: Watching Brad

    Quote Originally Posted by DonQuixote View Post
    Frank, the date should actually be year/month/day - then they sort properly.

    Neil, that would be 16F. ((-(9*2 = -18) - 10% Value = -16) + 32= 16)
    I've actually been known to use this when labeling things chronologically...such as the "hunk pictures" in my personal guys file - like two that I uploaded in spring 2011 might have files named 20110328b and 20110328f.

    But I don't use that kind of sequence in any "everyday" or colloquial way at all, just "officially" - because NOBODY EVER, EVER says that "my divorce happened on 2014 August 17."
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    So I just finished read through number 3? 4? 5? Honestly, I've lost track, but I love it just as much as the first time. I know it's getting harder to write, Neil, and we will all be sad beyond measure to see those final words "The End" whenever you are able to write and post the final chapter(s). Alas, all good things must come to an end. Won't stop me from shedding a few tears though when it happens

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    Quote Originally Posted by glorff View Post
    The other day there was a poll on the CNN site that asked: "Would you read a book that did not have an end?" The overwhelming response was that people would not.
    I instantly thought of this story and how much all of our lives have been enriched by your never ending story. I will never have an ounce of regret about beginning or any waiting involved. I hope that it will continue as long as your heart desires it to do so, and rest assured that we will all check back regularly knowing that the everyone will be back to meet us.

    Happy Thanksgiving!
    That was Oct, 2010. It is now June 2017 and the sentiments remain the same. My O My, such wonderful writing, such believable characters, such deep feeling, and awesome displays of love.

    Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!
    Friend

    Not sure where I am going, but certainly enjoying the ride!

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    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    ^ Thanks for that. I suppose I really should go back and read it, but I'd be so afraid I'd be my own worst critic and hate what I was reading.
    Neil, you stated the above in January of 2015. I have started re-reading this masterwork. I cannot imagine anyone finding fault (save typos!) with this. If it would be possible to "become" part of this story, I would jump at the chance ... and you must know how awkward that would be . Thank you again for the great work on bringing to life two marvelous people and the "family" that surrounds them.

    Blessings and prayers for your comfort and continued genius.

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    Re: Watching Brad

    I seriously need to think about printing this, though the effort will be voluminous. And...maybe even to get it bound. In my mind, it's not possible that any better fiction has ever been written.
    "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." -The Scarecrow, THE WIZARD OF OZ, 1939

    Boss, to Sue: "Sorry, we have to downsize, and I need to lay you and Jack off." Sue to boss: "Can you just jack off? I feel like shit today."

    Make, for a man, a fire - and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man afire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

    Mexicans are pissed off about Trump's wall but, oh...they'll get over it.

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    Quote Originally Posted by frankfrank View Post
    I seriously need to think about printing this, though the effort will be voluminous. And...maybe even to get it bound. In my mind, it's not possible that any better fiction has ever been written.
    I heartily second that! Wow! Unbelievably awesome!

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    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    ^^ Physically, Brad is patterned off a friend of mine, as I've mentioned several before. Characteristically, he is patterened off a great many people. I'm certain there are Brads still existing in this world. They are talented, eager to learn, and extremely versitile and complex (which comes from one of my favourite television characters, Angus MacGyver). Brad can't build a Jeep out of elastic bands and empty tuna fish tins, but he's creative and imaginative, and, he would at least try if he had to.

    His gardening skills come from my mother. She never took a lesson in her life, nor read a single book, but she made beautiful gardens around our house when I was younger. His piano playing comes from my cousin. I always envied her so much. She never had a lesson in her life, and the piano she played was an old upright, but man, could she play! She taught herself to read music, but, most of the time, she would simply sit down a play a song she'd heard, and she would play it well. She had an ear for the piano and knew how to put all the notes together to make music. Brad was taught the piano by his grandmother. Nothing else was said about her talent or background.

    Would he have to be classically trained to play the piano? I don't know. Some people are just 'born with it'. And the people who are listening are not classically trained to listen. Although Ted believes Brad could give Murray Perahia a run for his money, he's also the first to admit that he's extremely biased when it comes to Brad. Can he play Moonlight Sonata to Carengie Hall standards? Probably not. But he can play it well enough to livingroom standards.

    Brad's character comes from his devotion to others and his deep need to be loved. That he found that love in Ted makes no difference to him. He accepted it and worked with it. He can do a lot of things, but there's a lot more things he can't do. He can't make loose English tea, he's a mediocre cook, and he's terrified of heights to name just a few. But he's far from perfect. Oh, and he can't really knit.

    Ted is everything I would like to be (except for the hairy chest). His love of children and classical music comes from me, and that worked its way into Brad with the piano. As much as I would like to play, I can't. Brad can, and that's fine with me.

    Lindsay is patterned after my first niece. She is married now, and has her own children, but she still calls my older brother 'Daddy' when they are with family. The twins are patterned after my first real nephew and my pseudo-nephew, the son of the man on whom I based Brad's physical attributes. The twins are very much like those two boys when they were 4 years old.

    Cali and her family were, apparently, a big mistake and I deeply regretted bringing them into the picture later. I had hoped to use them to be everything Ted's family wasn't. Shunned, unaccepted, frightened. Cali and Mags wouldn't have gone beyond being naked in the hot tub, but even the two kissing was more than people here wanted to know about. I couldn't change them, so I more or less wrote them out of the story. Mags may join Brad in Baie Dankie Landscaping. I haven't decided. If she does, it will be in a very minor role. But that's a long way down the road.

    So, is Brad real? No, he isn't. But from the posts and all the PMs I've received, he's everything a lot of the readers wish for, and, in their eyes, he is very real indeed. Readers are looking beyond Brad's physical attributes now and looking at the young man inside, and that's the important part. I couldn't have asked for much more than that.

    So, now, on with the story. . .
    But to us readers Brad and the rest are real.
    Love the story. Even skipped some of the sex scenes to see what happens next. 😳😳😳

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    Quote Originally Posted by gsdx View Post
    WATCHING BRAD
    Part 119

    I could hear the phone ringing, but Brad wasn't answering it. I was just about to disconnect when I heard his voice, clear, but somehow far away. "Hi, Ted."

    I yanked the phone from my ear and stared at it. I was sure I'd heard Brad say ‘hi' to me, but I could still hear the ringing coming out of the earpiece of my telephone.

    "I'm over here," the voice said.

    I looked to my left. I could barely make out Brad sitting on the wall near the house, quite some distance from me and silhouetted by the dim light of the curtained patio doors. He rose to his feet and walked slowly and cautiously toward me.

    I wanted to jump up and grab him and hold onto him, but he stopped far enough away from me to make me think he didn't want me to do that. Instead, I stood up and said, "I've been waiting for you to phone me."

    "I know. Mom told me you wanted me to call." He sat on the wall beside me, but far enough away that I couldn't reach out and touch him. I sat back down again. "I decided to come over instead and your Dad told me you were out here. You were talking on the telephone to Neil when I came around the house, so I waited until you were finished. But then you dialed again. When no-one answered, I thought you might be calling me. I don't have my phone, and it's turned off."

    "I was calling you. Where have you been?"

    "Out."

    "Out where?"

    "Just ‘out'," he replied quietly. "I have a place I go to when I need to be alone. By the way, thanks for not smoking that cigarette in the park."

    "You saw me?"

    Brad nodded in the darkness. "Right up until you got in the taxi. I followed you from the doctor's office, then I went to my special place to think. I just got home a few minutes ago."

    "I didn't even know you were at the garden park," I told him.

    "You weren't supposed to. I just needed to know that you were okay after. . . well, you know. . . in Dr. Davis' office."

    "Thanks."

    We sat in silence, staring into the dark for an uncomfortably long moment. Finally, I had to break it. "Aren't you going to ask me what Randy and I were talking about in the garden?"

    "No," he replied. "I already talked to him," Brad replied. "After you left in the taxi. He was a nice guy. A bit mixed up, but nice."

    "He propositioned me, you know," I said.

    "I know," Brad replied. "At least he implied as much. He propositioned me, too."

    "Maybe you should have gone with him."

    "Maybe you should have gone with him, Ted."

    "Me? Why?"

    "So you can find out once and for all what it is you want."

    I didn't like this insinuation, or where this conversation was going. It was not at all what I had planned. "I already know what I want!" I said, my voice tinged with a bit of hostility.

    "No, you don't Ted. You think you do, but you don't. You say you want me, but what about Barry? I've seen the way you go all ga-ga over him."

    "Well," I accused, "you like Nathan!"

    "Nathan doesn't give me a hardon, Ted," he said calmly. "Barry cranks you up solid. And Randy in the park. I could see your hardon from the street. I've even seen the way you look at Jamie, too, and other young guys we see when we're out together. And there are probably others that I don't know about."

    "I don't know what you're talking about, Brad."

    "You're hung up on younger guys, Ted," Brad continued. "Me, Barry, Randy, Jamie. We're all younger. And we all like you. Some of us even love you. But you're so hung up on being older that it's eating away at you. I'm not sure what it is that bothers you about it, but it's tearing us apart. Until you come to grips with it, I don't see how we can go on like this."

    "Brad. . ."

    "I did a lot of thinking today, Ted. I thought about this past year, and then these past few weeks. I've tried to think of what I've done to deserve this, and I can't think of anything. The harder I tried to get closer to you, the harder you pushed me away. I know things are tough for you right now, but you've alienated the only person who wants to help you more than anyone else, and that's me. Until you're ready to accept my love, and accept that it's forever, then there's not much more I can do. There's nothing else I can say to you. I can't help being younger than you any more than I can help being in love with you. If that's a problem with you, then you're going to have to figure it out on your own."

    "I think I already have."

    Brad remained silent then, waiting for me to continue. He had opened the door for me. Now I had to step through it.

    "I don't have a problem with you, Brad," I said. "I have. . ." I took a deep breath. I had to say this. "I have a problem with me, and I think I know what the problem is. I don't understand why you love me, but I accepted it a long time ago. What I couldn't accept, I think, is what other people would think of us. More importantly, though, what they would think of me."

    "People can think whatever the hell they want," Brad offered.

    "You don't understand, Brad. I wasn't worried about you! I've told you before that I was, but I really wasn't. Do you know what a Boy Toy is?"

    "Kind of a full-time escort," Brad offered. "A younger guy that lives with an older guy and gets paid for it. I'm not a Boy Toy, Ted."

    "I know you aren't, but that isn't what bothers me. I'm terrified that people might think you are, and that would make me your Sugar Daddy."

    "Who cares what other people think?"

    "Gee-sus, Murphy, Brad!" I said, my voice raising in volume to near-shouting levels. "Haven't you been listening to me? I didn't give a shit about you! I didn't care what people thought of you! I was worried that people would think I'm your fuckin' Sugar Daddy!"

    The strangest feeling washed over me then. So strange, in fact, that it made me lean away from Brad and left me panting for breath. There was a thundering in my brain as the last of the bricks crumbled to the ground.

    I gasped. I could feel fire burning in my face, and it was anger. I had crossed the threshold. I had finally been able to admit to Brad that I wasn't perfect, that I had been more concerned with myself than I was for him. More importantly, though, in doing so, I had also admitted it to myself, and probably to half the neighbourhood. Oh, yes, there was, indeed, anger, and it was all aimed at me.

    And suddenly the anger disappeared, replaced with such a relief as I have rarely felt before. I could see the wall falling as if in slow motion. One by one, the bricks toppled and crashed to the ground and, as the final brick tumbled, there was Brad.

    "Oh, God, Brad," I said. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

    Brad moved faster than I could have imagined him. Within half a heartbeat, he had moved beside me and pulled me into his arms. I grabbed onto him, wrapping my arms around him and digging my fingers into his back and burying my face into his shoulder. And then I cried.

    * * * * *

    "Feeling better?" Brad asked as I lay against him, still nestling my cheek against his shoulder after I'd finally stopped crying.

    "Yeah," I answered haltingly. "I think so." I wanted to stay where I was, but I pulled away from him so we could talk. "I really am sorry that I treated you the way I did, Brad."

    "Forget it," he said. Even in the dark I could see his chipped-tooth smile. "Oh, and I'm sorry I called you an asshole."

    "Don't apologize for that," I said firmly as I looked away from him. "You were right. I really am an asshole."

    "No, you aren't."

    I looked back at him. "Yes, I am. The way I've been treating you? I more than deserved it."

    "Look, Ted, let's not talk about it now, okay? We can sort it out later. Did Neil help you come to that realization?"

    "What makes you think that's why I called him?"

    "Well," Brad replied, "the guy he was in love with, the one who looks like me, was younger, too. I'm guessing you called him to ask how he dealt with it."

    "He told me a little poem," I told him. "I don't remember it all, but he called it a ‘Grook' and said I could look it up online. Basically, it said people often worry about what other people are thinking, but they can think whatever the hell they want. They're not important. It's what we think that really counts."

    "And what do you think, Ted?"

    I thought for a few long, silent moments. Somewhere in the dark, somewhere out in the darkness, a siren sounded. Someone needed help. So did I. "I think I want you to come with me to my appointment with Dr. Davis tomorrow."

    "Okay," he replied quietly. "I'll go."

    "Will you stay here tonight?"

    I could see his head shaking slowly. "No," he said just as quietly. "Not tonight. Not until we're both sure I should. Right now, I'm not sure."

    I stared at him in the soft light of the half-moon. "I miss you, Tiger."

    "I miss you, too, Pops," he replied. Then, after saying it, he added, "Maybe I shouldn't call you that anymore."

    "Why not?"

    "It makes you sound older."

    "I am older, Brad. I always will be. You're a tiger and I'm a pops. It's never going to change. I just have to try to get over it."

    Brad's hand came to my shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You have to believe me, Ted. I don't see you as older. I see you only as the man you are. Nothing else matters to me. Nothing else should matter."

    Brad didn't give me time to respond.

    "Let me ask you something," he said quickly. "If I didn't have this thing between my legs, if I was like every other normal guy, would you still love me?"

    "Of course I would."

    "How can I be sure?"

    I didn't have to think about the answer. "You just have to believe me, Brad."

    "And you just have to believe me, Ted." With that, he stood up. "Call me tomorrow when you're ready to go to your appointment. I'll be ready."

    And then he was gone.

    * * * * *

    I almost gave in that night and took a sleeping pill, but managed somehow to clear my mind enough to fall asleep. I awoke felling sleepy, but refreshed, and I was feeling pretty good, but still feeling lonely and empty. My bed felt lonely and empty. Thankfully, neither Mom nor Dad mentioned Brad's visit the night before. I didn't want the kids to know he was here, but I told him that he'd be here at noon to take me to the doctor. The kids were excited, of course, but Jeremy's eyes turned into saucers of anticipation. He, most of all, missed Brad.

    The morning went rather smoothly. Once again, the twins and I walked Lindsay to school, but only as far as the park this time. She walked the rest of the way with her friends after I had reminded her to come home for lunch instead of Grandma Hayes'. I'd taken the boys' skates and pads and helmets with me. I kitted them out, and sent them on their way around the paths in the park. They skated hand-in-hand and they skated very well.

    Lori showed up with Andrew after about a half hour and I changed the twins back into their shoes so they could play with Lori's son. Lori and I sat on the bench nearby talking.

    "My uncle might be coming up for a visit this Summer," she told me. "He's really anxious to see for himself that what I've told him is true."

    "Well," I replied, "not knowing everything you've told him, I can only hope it is."

    "From what I've seen and heard, it is. Any idea when you can go back to work?"

    "As soon as my doctor says I can," I explained.

    "This isn't going to screw up your vacation for your honeymoon, is it?"

    "No. This is ‘sick leave'. I'm still entitled to the time off for my holidays." My holidays certainly wouldn't screw up my honeymoon, but the lack of a wedding certainly could. I didn't care to mention that, though. I didn't want to even think about the possibility of there not being a wedding.

    Lori and Andrew came back home with us for lunch. We'd decided that she could spend some time with Terry and Andrew could play with the twins. They could have their afternoon naps together. It wouldn't be much longer before they didn't need them anymore, but right now they couldn't make it through the day without them. That would begin changing in September when they would start Kindergarten. Their first day in school would be the day they would start growing up.

    Brad showed up early to spend some time with the kids.

    "When are you coming home, Brad," Jeremy asked in a saddened voice.

    Brad was kneeling on the floor in the livingroom as Jeremy stood beside him, their arms around each other's back. Jeremy disengaged himself and stepped between Brad's legs, wrapping his little arms around the big man and mashing his cheek against Brad's chest. Brad hugged him back. "Soon, I hope, Jeremy," he answered quietly and lovingly.

    We left at twelve-forty in order to get to the appointment on time. Dr. Davis was waiting there, surprised to see Brad with me.

    "Is it okay if Brad sits in with us?" I asked.

    "That's fine if that is what you wish," Dr. Davis said, "but I'd like to talk to you alone first."

    Brad nodded and took a seat in the reception room as Dr. Davis and I went into his office. I told the doctor of my conversations with both Randy in the garden and with my friend, Neil, and then I told him about my conversation with Brad the night before.

    "Do you really thing you're a Sugar Daddy?" he asked me.

    "No, but I'm afraid other people will think I am," I said. "The worst part, though, is that I was so busy telling Brad that I was too old for him that I didn't realize that I wasn't telling myself that he was too young for me."

    "Is he?"

    "No," I answered. "At least he wasn't when I fell in love with him."

    "But he is now?"

    "Only as far as people thinking he's my Boy Toy."

    "You know he's not, Ted."

    "Yes, I know," I affirmed.

    "But you're afraid people will think you're his Sugar Daddy."

    I didn't have to respond. He already knew what I would have said.

    "It's extremely difficult to change other people's beliefs, Ted," Dr. Davis continued. "It's even more difficult to change your own. That's something you will have to try to do on your own. I can't help you with that. You may never get over it. Those feelings may stay with you for the rest of your life. You can either accept them and ignore them or you can let them rule over you for the rest of your life. I have one question which I don't want you to answer right now. I only want you to think about it for a minute or two."

    I nodded and waited patiently, and Dr. Davis seemed to draw out the pause just to torture me. Finally he asked it.

    "Is Brad more important to you than what other people think of you?"

    Dr. Davis stood up as I thought about his question. He went to the door and motioned to Brad to come in. A few moments later, Brad was sitting beside me in the other chair and Dr. Davis was once again sitting across the small table from us.

    "Are you ready to answer the question, Ted?" Dr. Davis asked.

    "Yes," I said quietly.

    "Then I'll ask it again. Is Brad more important to you than what other people think of you?"

    I couldn't look at Brad as I gave my answer. "Except for my family," I said, "Brad is the most important person in the world to me."

    Brad's hand found my own and his fingers entwined with mine. He squeezed it.

    I looked at him then, my eyes finding his and holding the gaze. I fought my emotions as I spoke, my voice forced and wavering with the effort. "I love you, Brad," I said in a rough whisper. "I need you. I need you to help me deal with this. Will you help me?"

    Brad didn't answer. He stood up, pulling me to my feet, and grabbed me in a bear hug. He held me hard and for a very long time. I melted into him. I could feel the heat and the strength from his body flowing into me, lifting me up and making me feel better than I had in a long time. I could feel his life beating and breathing against me. His scent crept into my lungs and began warming me from the inside out. His heat and strength and life met the warmth of his scent somewhere around my heart, and then the strangest thing happened and I began to cry.

    Brad suddenly backed away from me so he could look into my face - into my eyes.

    "Ted?" he said.

    To Be Continued

    The next chapter will be posted on Friday morning. Thanks for being so patient and understanding. - Neil

    Ted is a self centered asshole. Now to read on.

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