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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Be Rad - 16. Chapter 16

July 28, 1980



I woke up and knew exactly what today was going to be like: shitty. Not because of Robbie, who was sprawled across me. Not because I didn't have a fucking blast with Ace, Billy, Lark, and Robbie at the concert yesterday. No, today was going to be shitty because of the hangover I could feel emerging, reminding me that with true party karma, all the fun I had yesterday would have to be paid for with misery today.

I was about to go back to sleep and try to sleep it off when I felt those warning signs. The clammy skin, the rising nausea, the waves of dizziness that flew through me. I pushed Robbie but he wouldn't move. “Get up!” I screamed. Or maybe I just said it quietly and it sounded like a scream to me. I kept pushing at him but he just groaned. He was a big boy and I was handicapped. Then I lost my battle and just vomited all over both of us. That woke him up.

“Gross! That is disgusting. What the fuck?” he asked, pissed off. I finally pushed him off of me, landing him on the floor, on his ass, while I rushed to the bathroom to complete my retching. I puked my guts out, and then some more. I heard the shower start and looked up to see him smiling down at me, the look of someone who hasn't puked, grinning at the poor bastard that has.

I climbed into the shower behind him. Showering together was no longer a problem; it was a habit. It was hard to visualize a less romantic scene than the two of us taking a shower with chunks of my puke washing off of us, but he hugged me and kissed my neck. “I had such a great time with you. Especially when we got back here last night.”

I groaned. “I'll have to take your word for it. I don't remember a fucking thing.”

“I told you not to do those 'shrooms. Those dudes in Triumph had some nasty looking fungi.” The memories started to slowly return. Drinking like a fish, doing drugs with the band, that drummer, which group was he from? The cute brown haired guy that kept making eyes at me all night. I must not have slept with him, or Robbie wouldn't be nearly this nice to me.

“Did we all have fun?” I asked lamely, and he just started laughing.

“Yeah, we all had fun. Except when I had to drag you away from that drummer that was trying to get you to go back to his trailer.” I could see the twinge of pain that caused him.

“I'm sorry Robbie.” I didn't know what else to say. I was really going to have to get my libido under control. No, that's not it. It wasn't my libido, it was my sluttiness. We didn't have a formally committed relationship, but there was really no other way to interpret it. We spent most of our time together, we fucked all the time, and we were almost inseparable. But I knew for him that didn't matter. He'd never be with another guy. He was as loyal as a dead dog. No, any problems in that world were my problems.

“It's OK. I caught you in time,” he said.

“Yeah, but what if you wouldn't have caught me?”

I could see the sadness in his eyes as he visualized me fucking the shit out of the drummer. “Then you’d have fucked him.”

I looked into his eyes, those beautiful violet eyes. Compared to me, he was an open book. All I had to do is stare at him like this and he'd come clean, start that babbling thing that he did and tell me everything that was going on with him. He pulled away from me and started washing up. He suddenly got all task-oriented. “We've got to get going. We're supposed to get to the plane in an hour.”

We were going to Malibu, just the two of us, or so he thought. I had a big surprise for him. I'd had to work it all out with Lark and Billy, and get them to back out on the trip. It was hard on Lark because he really wanted to go. Pangs of guilt surged back. I'd made it up to him though. We'd spent some time alone and I'd given him a blow job, a really good blow job. What would Robbie think about that? I sighed, and he interpreted that as a gesture of frustration with him. “It's no big deal Robbie. That's the beauty of having your own plane. They don't leave until you get there.”

We got out of the shower and dried off. I took in his magnificent body, the one I knew almost as well as my own. He was a work of art. The only reason that he didn't get the drummer to drag him back was because he didn't send out the signals that said he wanted to. I did.

We'd had the foresight to pack last night, and the bags were crammed into whatever little spaces we could find in the Ferrari. That car was not designed for cargo. I bundled up my pukey sheets and carried them to the laundry room and gave Anna a brief apology. I giggled to myself. She'd seen some nasty sheets in the past few weeks.

We ate breakfast. No, that's not right. Robbie ate; I forced food into my body and willed it to stay down. Whether I was going to win that battle was very much in doubt. I excused myself and rushed to the nearest bathroom and puked what I'd just eaten right back out, along with nothing. Dry heaves. Painful.

I walked back into the kitchen and Robbie gave me a concerned look. He was perfect, I was not. He was loyal, I strayed. He was supportive, I was exploitive. He thought of things to do to make me happy, I thought of things he could do to make me happy. And for some reason, that made me mad at him. “Brad, you want to kick back here for awhile? I'll call the plane.”

I had an almost overwhelming desire to scream “fuck you!” at him just to take that perfect smile off of his face. But he was only being nice and considerate. Sometimes he was like a doormat. If he would just grow a pair I wouldn't have to feel guilty all the time. “No, let's get going. I'll feel better once I feel the wind in my hair.” A lame joke that fell flat.

I grabbed a couple of bananas and a Pepsi and headed for the garage. I was too cranky to say goodbye to anyone, and no one was there anyway. He stopped me at the door and forced me to look at him. He loved me. He was totally in love with me. I knew it and he knew it, but he'd never tell me that until I told him. So it went unsaid. “It's just you and me. Time to spend with my favorite person.” He followed this up with one of his trademark hugs, hugs that pulled me into him so far I felt like I was almost part of him. I didn't know of anything on earth more soothing and comforting. I felt my crabby mood evaporate. I grabbed his hand and headed to the car.

“Want me to drive?” he asked. More concern. I fought the internal demons, the ones that wanted me to terrorize this guy for being nice to me.

“No way,” I said cheerfully. I'd just gotten rid of my ankle brace yesterday, so I was finally able to drive my car again. There was that reason. The other two reasons were, in order of importance, that he had no idea where we were going, and second, it was a lot easier to maintain control of my stomach if I had control of the car and the swaying. I turned it over, letting the roar of the motor wash over me, and then we were off.

He just sat next to me, quietly, enjoying the ride. God I was moody today. Now I found myself ticking my happiness up a bit because of that, because we could hang out and just be together without needing to constantly chatter. When I got onto I-280 and headed south and away from the airport, he finally got curious. “You passed the airport.”

“I have a surprise for you. We're not flying to Malibu.”

“We're driving?”

“No, I thought we'd walk,” I teased.

He just shrugged. He trusted me completely. He'd follow me anywhere. Why did that bother me? I knew why. I didn't deserve him. He was good, loving, supportive, and faithful. I was bad, evil, taking his love and fucking around on him every chance I had. I pulled out a joint and lit it, took a long hit, then passed it to him. That I did all of this in a Targa with the top off was actually pretty impressive.

The weed mellowed me, calmed me down, soothed the hyper thoughts that flew around in my brain threatening to destroy my happiness. We drove on and Robbie just kicked back, content as can be. We got to the interchange of I-280 and Highway 101. “Shouldn't you turn here?” he asked. If I were driving to LA, the fastest way would be to go south on 101.

“No, they've got all kinds of road construction down there. I'm taking 680 (the freeway 280 turned into at 101) to 580 and then to Tracy. We can catch 5 there.” He looked thoughtful but relaxed again. I smiled to myself. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when we didn't take 5 south.

There wasn't too much traffic on this sunny Saturday morning so we made great time. It took us a little over an hour to get to Tracy. When I passed by the turn-off for 5, he looked at me strangely. “You were supposed to turn there,” he said.

“Let's take 99. It's more scenic.” I said with a smile that told him this was all planned.

“Alright, where the fuck are you taking me?” he demanded, but in a friendly way. Because he'd go anywhere I asked him to.

“It's a surprise. We're joining a commune,” I teased.

“Come on Brad. Where are we going?”

“Yosemite,” I said simply.

“Where?” He looked at me like I'd grown another head.

“Yosemite National Park. It's one of the most beautiful places in California and I want to show it to you.”

He just stared at me. “Really? Cool.” And that was it. On we drove, with me in control of our destination, our car, and apparently our relationship too.

Four hours after we left Palo Alto we pulled up in front of the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite. I saw his eyes bulge as we drove up. The Ahwahnee is beautiful in and of itself. A hotel in a national park, built to look like a lodge but with all the luxuries of a top notch hotel, with views of the whole valley. We got out and rotated, taking in the scenery. The massive granite face of El Capitan, the unbelievable Half Dome rock formation, the powerful Yosemite and Bridalveil waterfalls, impressive even in the summer when the water flow was significantly reduced.

“What is this place?” he gasped. Shades of Alice in Wonderland, I thought with a smile.

“Come on,” I said. We checked in with no problems. That wasn't always a foregone conclusion since I was only 17, but most 17 year olds don't have a Ferrari and an American Express Gold Card, so we were treated really well. Our room was just a normal room, but it came with an amazing view. “Let's get some lunch and then go walk around.”

“Nope,” he said. I looked at him, stunned. He never said no to me. I almost laid into him like a parent who scolded a kid that defied him.

“No?” I asked with a smile.

“Make love to me. Right here, right now,” he demanded. He didn't ask, he didn't beg, he commanded. My dick rose on its own. It was as if he sensed my mood and was showing me that he could take charge. So we had our usual, un-fucking-believable, kick-ass sex, and then hit the trails.


July 30, 1980

Unbelievable scenery and unbelievable sex, that's how I'd characterize the last few days. Robbie and I just seemed to merge together, to the point where sometimes it was difficult for me to figure out where I ended and he began. Today we were hiking up the trail to Upper Yosemite Falls, which wasn't as exciting as it would have been in the spring. The water was almost a trickle now. We could reach our canteens out to the water and fill them, something that would be much riskier during the spring thaw.

Robbie walked in front of me, his tight Ocean Pacific shorts outlining that amazing ass of his. That's the point where it really was hard to figure out where I ended and he began, since I spent so much time in there. I giggled, and he turned around and looked at me.

“What?” He was a little insecure.

“I'm just admiring the view,” I teased.

“You can get a close up any time you want,” he said.

“I want,” I said. We snuck off the trails, into the woods and the brush, braving the inevitable mosquitoes, and the possible rattlesnake or bear, and made love quietly, just in case other tourists came trekking by.

“Sex with you never gets dull,” he said, boosting my ego. I smiled and kissed him before we got back to the trail. I tried to visualize my life without him, but I couldn't. He'd become indispensable.

We got back to the room at dusk, which was a good time to get indoors. The mosquitoes were vicious, and, sweet guy that I am, they seemed to just love me. “God, my ankle hurts,” I whined.

“At least your ass doesn't hurt too,” he said. I smiled at him and grabbed my crotch suggestively. He shook his head and went into the bathroom. I grinned and followed him, stripping off my dirty, sweaty clothes and climbing in behind him.

The water flowed over our bodies. He grabbed the soap and rubbed it sensuously over my body. He spun me around gently so my back was against his chest and pulled me to him while he ran his soapy hands across my chest, flicking my nipples, and then down to soap my dick and balls. I moaned and pushed back into him. He moved his soapy hand around to my ass and soaped my crack gently, probing into my hole. “I want you,” he said in that deep, husky bedroom voice of his.

“Take me,” I said, like some soap opera slut, and that almost made me giggle and destroy the mood. He moved into me and I willingly absorbed his cock into my ass, while he squeezed me tightly, pulling me into his hard yet cushy body, and absorbing me in kind. I entered that blissful, nirvana-like state that Robbie could take me to. Moving my ass into him, and then thrusting my cock forward into his hand, I came way before I wanted to, but he was close behind me, so I guess I timed it right. We rinsed off and dressed for dinner, wearing some of the spiffy clothes Claire had bought us.

The Ahwahnee Dining Room is the crown jewel of the hotel, with its 30-plus-foot-high ceilings and open timber construction, contrasted with linen table cloths and elegant place settings, then basted in the aroma of amazing gourmet food. The Maitre D' sat us promptly, but I cringed when I saw our waiter. A thin, wiry guy, probably in his late 20's, with that supercilious air that some waiters give themselves, combined with a dose of disdain for young patrons. That and he had all the characteristics of a total, flaming homosexual. I got all of these impressions as he swished toward our table, and I felt my own defenses go up accordingly.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Ahwahnee. Can I offer you something to drink?” he said. All of my perceptions of him flew out the window when he started talking. Well, all except one. He acted very gay. We ordered Cokes and he left us with menus.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Robbie said.

“You want to invite him back to our room later?” I asked.

“Um, if you want to, I guess,” Robbie said nervously. How typical of him. He'd do anything to make me happy.

“No, I don't want to. I'm just teasing you. You're all I need.”

“I am?” he asked incredulously.

I was about to respond when our waiter returned and explained all of the specials. We ordered and he was about to leave when he turned to me and asked simply: “are you celebrating a special occasion?”

I'm normally a shy, introverted person. And I rarely discuss my feelings with people that I don't know. But somehow, this just seemed like the right time, place and event convergence to break that rule. “As a matter of fact we are.”

“We are?” asked Robbie.

I turned to the waiter. “I brought my boyfriend to dinner here tonight to tell him that I love him.” Robbie just stared at me with his mouth open.

Our waiter positively beamed at us. “And does he love you too?”

“Fuck yeah he does,” Robbie said, and that made us all laugh.

“Well that's just adorable,” he said. “I'll be right back.” He vanished and then returned as if by magic. “Here's a glass of Seven-Up to celebrate, courtesy of your waiter.” It was Champagne.

“Do you really mean it?” Robbie asked after the waiter finally left us alone.

“I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”

“Then say it again,” he commanded.

“I love you,” I said, looking right in his eyes so he knew that I meant it.

“I love you too. I mean, I hoped you'd feel the same way as I did, but I wasn't sure. Sometimes you seem like you’re mad at me, or you don't want me around.”

I studied his handsome face and knew that a relationship with him was going to require me to deal with his significant insecurities. But I did love him, he made me feel like I never dreamed possible, and if that was the price I had to pay, well, so be it.

Dinner was fabulous. When the waiter brought the check I gave him a massive tip. On our way out I stopped him. “Do you know where we could get a bottle of Vodka?”

“How old are you?” he demanded.

“Seventeen,” I said with resignation in my voice.

“Seventeen years old and you want Vodka? The corrupt youth of America.” He looked around surreptitiously. “Give me your room number and I'll see what I can do.” I told him and we headed upstairs to seal our new relationship and new commitment by making love.

We had just stripped off our clothes and started kissing when there was a knock at the door. I wrapped a towel around my waist and answered it, finding our waiter there with a bottle of Absolut Vodka. The good stuff. I realized that I needed to give him something for it. “Uh, come on in,” I said.

I was standing there with a towel around my waist but with my dick tenting it out, making me look ridiculous, and Robbie was standing there stark naked. He went to grab something to cover up.

“No, stop. You have such beautiful bodies, works of art. Please don't cover them up.” Robbie looked at me and I grinned back at him and dropped my towel. I heard the waiter gasp as my big dick came into view. I bent over to get my wallet out of my pants, giving him a full view of my ass. I heard Robbie snaugh. “Um, you know what would be better than money,” he said.

“What?” I asked politely.

“I want to watch you two.” I looked at Robbie but he just shrugged. Typical, he was leaving it totally up to me. “I just want to sit in the chair and watch you two make love.”

“And maybe beat off?” I asked with a smile.

“Maybe,” he said. “I get off work in a couple of hours. Can I come back then?”

“We'll see you then,” I told him with a smile and escorted him to the door. He ran his hand along the length of my hard cock on his way out and giggled like a little girl.

I locked the door and went over to Robbie, standing by the bed showing off his impressive physique. I kissed him gently, and then moved to his ear. “You OK with this?” He nodded. “Might be kind of hot to put on a show for him, don't you think?” He pulled away from me so I could see his smile. “But first, I want to make love to you, just you and me, to show you how important you are to me, and how much I love you.” And then his lips were on mine, his body was part of mine, and he showed me that he loved me just as much.

We started doing shots of Vodka after we came, so we were both getting really fucked up. I felt Robbie's foot massage my crotch under the table. “Let's wait for our friend and put on a show he'll remember for the rest of his life.” He grinned. There was a knock on the door.

I opened it to find our waiter, looking very nervous, but with a tent in his pants. “Come on in,” I said, and ran my hand over his ass as he walked past me. “What's your name?”

“Uh, D-Don,” he stammered.

“Well Don, I'm Brad, and this is Robbie. You're here with us, and that's cool, but I want you to do whatever I tell you to do.”

He really looked nervous now. “Uh, OK. You don't have to include me or anything, I just want to watch and jack off.”

“Do you want to stay or not?” Robbie asked, sounding mad.

“Uh, yeah,” Don said, clearly freaking out.

“Then you do what he says.” Don just nodded at that.

“Take off all of your clothes,” I told him. We sat on the bed, stark naked and hard, watching him strip down. Without his dorky waiter costume on, he was actually pretty cute. He reminded me a little of Jake, but I put that irritant to the side. I guided him to the edge of the bed. “You sit here. You can touch no one unless I tell you to, got it? Not even yourself.” I was being severe, but it was an act. He nodded.

I moved my cock up to Robbie's mouth and he started slurping on it. He was a really good cocksucker. “Look at him, doesn't he suck cock well?” I asked Don. He nodded, eyes wide, dick throbbing. “Get over here!” I said. He was by my side in a minute. “Feel my ass. Do I have a nice ass?” I grinned down at Robbie as Don ran his hands tentatively over my cheeks.

“You have a nice ass,” he said, crazed. I moved his hand so his fingers ran up and down my crack. He gasped and began to explore carefully. Having his fingers tentatively flicker over my hole while Robbie blew me was too stimulating. I pulled out and pushed Robbie onto his back. I lay on top of him, our lips meshing together as I ground into him. Don still had his hands on my ass, playing with it, just like I told him to. I moved to Robbie's neck, then down to his chest.

“Don, feel this,” I ordered, and he came up and put his hand on Robbie's chest. “Doesn't he have the nicest chest you ever saw?”

“Fuck yeah,” said Don as he gently played with Robbie's nipples. Robbie moaned as I lowered my mouth down his abdomen and took his cock into my mouth. I stopped, raised Robbie’s legs and made him grab them, exposing his beautiful hole.

“Look at this Don,” I said. Don joined me and stared at Robbie's hole while I stroked it gently. “He has a beautiful ass doesn't he?”

“Yyyeah,” stuttered Don, not out of nervousness, but out of lust.

I moved my nose in and smelled Robbie, his amazing male smell, diving in first near his balls, then his taint, and finally his ass, rubbing the tip of my nose gently over him while I inhaled him. “Smell him,” I ordered. Don didn't miss a beat. He mimicked my moves. I looked at his cock. It was small, but rock hard and leaking. “I'm gonna fuck him. You think he can take my big dick?” I asked.

“I think he can,” Don said, no longer nervous, now keyed up with lust. I lubed my dick and lined up with Robbie. He was grinning real big as I entered him, but that look faded as I entered him, replaced by that expression I loved, the one where his whole face seemed to direct itself to his mouth, which was just making that “O” shape.

I forgot about Don as I drove into Robbie, pounding him the way I knew he liked it, and then we blew, emitting those guttural roars that Lark had teased me about. When we were spent I collapsed next to Robbie and looked up to see Don just standing there, staring at us. Oops.

“Kneel here,” I ordered, and he knelt over us, one leg between my legs and the other between Robbie's. “Now jack off. Blow your load all over us.” He grabbed his dick and started stroking, making the cutest little noises, and then he exploded all over both of us. Robbie and I grinned at each other. As soon as he was done he pretty much rushed to get his clothes on and get out of our room.

“Thanks guys,” he said shyly as he fled. We chuckled and headed to the shower.

“That was pretty kinky,” I told Robbie.

“Yeah, but it was hot as hell. When you made him smell me, I thought I was gonna blow right there.”

I grinned at him. “So you like that huh?”

“I like everything you do to me.”

We stayed in the shower until we recharged, and then I did everything to him again.

July 31, 1980


The roar of the Ferrari as I gunned us through the mountains was exhilarating. Still, leaving Yosemite was sad. It had become our place, the place where I told him that I loved him, and that we officially became a couple. “You sad that we didn't go to Malibu?” I asked.

“You fucking kidding me? That was the best few days of my life. I got to see some of the most amazing scenery in the world, with the person that I love more than anyone, and then he told me that he loves me too. Nah, it was a pretty shitty trip,” he joked.

“Stef still wants us to come down to Malibu though,” I told him.

“I don't know if I can,” he said. “Billy wants me to try out for the football team. Seems like their kicker sucks. That's day after tomorrow.”

That dampened my mood. I figured we had a whole month of freedom before school started. “If you make it you'll have to practice a lot, I suppose?” I asked this without sounding bitter, although how I did that I don't know.

“Probably. I'll know in a few days. You OK with this? If you don't want me to play, I don't have to.”

The thought that he would so sacrifice himself for me that he'd give up football was shocking. I suddenly felt so selfish. I'd never give up surfing for him. I'd be pissed if he even asked, or suggested it to me. Yet here he was, offering to give up something that he really loved for me. It was cute, endearing, and intensely annoying. “Of course you should play. It's what you like to do.”

“You still going to Malibu?” he asked.

“Probably. I think I'll head down for a few days and do some surfing, and then you can come down for the weekend.”

“You going to take Lark with you?” he asked nervously.

“Yeah. He's been looking forward to it all summer. Is there some reason that I shouldn't?” I was being defensive and I knew it.

“He makes me jealous. I know he's your best friend, and that he's straight, but he loves you.”

“We're good friends, of course he loves me.”

He looked at me sadly. “No, he loves you like I love you. And I'm worried that when push comes to shove, you love him more than you love me.”

“Robbie, this is ridiculous. Lark is straight. He likes women. We're buds, that's all.”

“Have you ever fucked around with him?” he asked.

I was at the abyss. I didn't say anything. Either I lie to him, or I tell him the truth. If I lie, he'll know I'm lying. If I tell him the truth, this whole thing will just get worse.

“You have, I know you have. I just wanted to see if you'd admit it,” he said sullenly.

“So you like pushing me into corners? Giving me shit about my past?” I was getting pissed now.

“When's the last time you did something with him?”

I grimaced now. Oh well, why not get it all out there. “Last week.”

“Last week?!” he said, freaking out.

“Yeah. It was when I was planning this trip. I canceled our trip to Malibu to go to Yosemite and he was bummed, so I blew him.”

“That makes this whole trip seem like a sham,” he said.

“What do you mean? We didn't have any commitments. It was just a friend helping another friend out. No big deal. It didn't mean anything, not like it means when I'm with you.”

“That's bullshit Brad. You're as into him as he's into you. Open your fucking eyes. And you said you loved me. What a bunch of shit.”

“You're wrong.” I said. I'd pick Robbie over Lark any day of the week, wouldn't I? I looked over at him and the tears rolling down his cheeks and felt like shit. I really did love him.

“I'm sorry Robbie. It just sort of happened. It really didn't mean anything.” He just sat there, staring ahead, saying nothing. “I made a commitment to you up there,” I said, pointing my thumb back toward Yosemite, “and I'm going to keep it. You and me, exclusive.”

“I don't believe you,” he said.

“You don't trust me?”

“No.” One little word that pierced me to the core.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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You know those relationships where the partner one isn't ready to commit when partner two is; then partner one gets ready and partner two isn't so sure; then when partner two is sure again, partner one is back on the fence; I have a feeling that is the way this will be for years to come...

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In my opinion Robbie & Brad have some things to work on, although they're still in their infancy when it comes to their relationship. I believe Brad will keep his word when he said that they would be exclusive in the relationship between them. It seems that they are having typical relationship issues between young lovers whether straight or gay it doesn't matter because I believe all young lovers go through a trial period when the relationship is just starting to get serious.

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This is the beginning of the rollercoaster ride which was Brad and Robbie's relationship. As JP asked Brad so many years later were the highs worth having the lows? I believe they were.

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I am not sure Brad will ever be true to Robbie or anyone else he has lived his life with promiscuous male role models. Therein lies his problem one he will find hard to alter.

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It is incongruous that Brad has this self awareness about his shortcomings, but is unable to control himself. It was douchey to invite to invite the waiter to stay. That is Brad's horniness and he doesn't realize the misery he is setting up in the future between him and Robbie. Right now Robbie is piecing together that Brad cannot be relied on to control his dick.

And again with the drinking too much, losing control and memories and puking and hungover. How hard is this to figure out? I got drunk my first semester of high school (water polo end of season beach party) and wound up puking my guts out after drinking Gallo Spañada. I didn't drink again until my junior year in high school. It was not hard to figure out.

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