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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 - 32. Chapter 32

October 6, 1980

Mouse stood there shaking. Robbie was faster than I was, and moved forward, putting his arm around him. I recovered and tousled his hair. “Hey Mouse, wanna crash with us again?”

He smiled at me. “Thanks. That would be really nice.” I winked at Robbie and we walked back to our room. We got there and they both started to undress but I stopped them.

“I'm guessing we'll have visitors shortly. At least you will Mouse. After that you can come and get naked with us.”

We lounged around in our room, watching television and bullshitting. Robbie finally dozed off, probably bored by all of our talk about the art studio. I yawned and looked at my watch. It was 2am now. Mouse and I climbed into bed with our clothes still on. I moved up behind him like last night; this time he moved back into me suggestively, teasing me but making me hard nonetheless. The timing could hardly have been worse. There was a knock at the door.

I scrambled to sit up at my desk while Mouse jumped into one of the chairs. “Come in,” I called. It was a big deer meeting. Both Roger and JP came to see us. JP took my chair and Mouse gave Roger his. I smiled at the irony that we were back in the same place we were before they knocked.

I pinched, nudged Robbie to wake him up. He groaned and rolled over, but when he saw JP he woke up pretty fast. “Sorry to bother you,” JP said. “Seems like we have a new problem to deal with.”

I was tired and emotionally exhausted, too much to deal with this. I wanted to be a spectator.

“I just didn't want to sleep with him. He's really rough. It reminds me of...” Mouse couldn't even say stepfather “...of before.”

JP put his hand on Mouse's knee. “You are in control of your body. No one should force you, or make you feel obligated to, uh, be with them. Least of all in my house.” He sighed. This was taking a toll on him. Worse than most of the crap that hit him. He looked at me. “You and Billy obviously have some significant issues.”

“Issues?” Why was this about me? “I got pissed off at him a couple of times recently. Shit, even Stef did. You should have seen him in Europe. He treated Mouse like total crap. He's only nice when he wants to fuck him.”

“No he's not. He's not nice then either.” Mouse looked mad, defiant, like someone who was tired of putting up with shit. Good.

“Billy wanders through life looking in the mirror and following his friends around,” I continued. “He doesn't think about other people. He doesn't look at the world around him. He's completely into himself.”

“Then you think that would be an issue,” JP observed.

“Alright, tell me that I'm wrong,” I demanded. “Tell me that he doesn't do that.”

We all looked at JP, including Roger. “To be honest, I don't have any answers. I don't know what to do. Your mother is talking to Billy. In the meantime, he will not come near you Mouse. If he does, you tell me. Got it?”

Mouse nodded. I wondered if he would. “What happens if he does?” I asked.

“Let's not anticipate problems Brad,” JP said, frustrated with me again.

“I'm not being a dick Dad, but it's like asking a kid to tell if someone is beating him up at school. If he does, they “talk” to the other kid, he acts like he's sorry, and then he beats the shit out of the kid the next day for being a snitch.”

“If that happens, they will have to be separated,” Roger said. I saw the strain on him. And on them. They just got together and now this stress was fucking with their relationship. God damn Billy.

“I don't want to leave!” Mouse said.

“He said separated Mouse,” I said. “He didn't say you had to move.”

“Get some sleep. Maybe this problem will go away. I'm due for some luck.” JP got up wearily and left, with Roger behind him.

Robbie looked at me. “They're saying that if Billy keeps this shit up he's the one moving out?”

“Yep. I'm so fucking pissed off at Billy right now I'd like to fucking kill him.”

“Give him a chance Brad,” Robbie said.

“I'm not talking about Mouse. Not that I don't care about you Mouse.” He shook his head, indicating that he hadn't taken offense. “I'm talking about them, about JP and Roger. They just fall in love; start off their relationship, and fucking Billy causes problems that are like a wedge. JP's son is being a dick to Roger's nephew? It's bullshit.” They hadn't thought about that.

“I'm going to bed,” I said. I stripped and was asleep almost as soon as I hit the mattress. Not even this bullshit could keep me awake; I was so jet-lagged.

October 7, 1980

School was weird. I ran into Billy a couple of times and he completely ignored me. He usually hung around with us at lunch, but he didn't today. Not only that, he did the same thing to Ace.

“What the fuck is his deal?” Ace asked me, frustrated. Ace was Mr. Sociable, so it irked him in the extreme to be ignored. I told him about the whole scene from last night. “That's fucked up.”

Add to that the fact that Lark was still irritated with me, and vice versa, and it was a recipe for a shitty day. I stumbled through the day and went home gratefully; glad to be out of there.

I was up in the studio, just starting to paint, when Mouse came bouncing in. Once he wasn't getting the shit beat out of him, or getting raped all the time, his real personality came out. He was perky and bouncy, with a fun, playful sense of humor. That and he was on cloud nine because he was still playing footsie with Dan. All of that was great, but it would have really pissed me off in the mood I was in, except for one other thing. He was a really intuitive guy. He came in, all cheerful, and sensed my crappy mood so he just said “hi” and went over and worked with his clay.

“What are you painting?” he asked me, pulling me out of my world. I looked at the clock. We'd been up here for an hour.

“I'm painting a picture of Jeff.” I showed him the photos I'd “borrowed” from JP's album and had copied. “I wanted to do them for Dad for Christmas.”

“Them?” he asked, and looked more closely at the canvas. It was a huge white space with only the beginnings of a sketch on it.

“Yeah. The big one is going to be a copy of this picture.” I showed him a picture of a very young JP, Stefan, and Jeff, along with a friend of theirs, Jason. They were smiling and all covered in mud. It was the quintessential picture of good friends having a good time.

“What about the other one?”

I showed him the picture of Jeff in his football uniform. There was another one of him catching a football. “If I have time, I'd like to do a solo portrait.”

Mouse picked up the picture and looked at it, studied it. “I've got an idea. Why don't you paint that one,” he said, pointing at the canvas, “And I'll do a sculpture of this one.”

“That would be terrific. Won't it be hard to do a sculpture from a picture?”

“Well, maybe, but Robbie looks a lot like him, so I'll make him pose if I need a model.”

“Let's make him pose nude,” I said, joking. “Tell him that you need to get the muscles and the form down.” We both laughed at that, and started our projects. I hoped that JP would appreciate them, that they would help him feel better about his past.

I absorbed myself again, now with a new, manageable project. Something made me look at the clock. Robbie should have gotten home an hour ago. I just assumed he'd come find me. I panicked and went down to our room looking for him. I was still insecure about us, worried that when he said he'd forgiven me that they were just words; that he was still mad at me. I found him in bed wearing just a towel, face down.

“Hey,” I said, and suggestively ran my hand up his leg.

“Don't,” he said. My heart sank. I just sat there, devastated, with my hand now limp on his leg. “It's not you Brad.”

I lay down next to him, but his face was turned away. I stroked his back lovingly. He turned to face me, with a big black eye. “What happened?” I asked calmly. He wouldn't appreciate drama at this point.

“I got into a fight,” he said. I sensed his mood. He wanted love. I gently ran my fingers through his hair and smiled at him.

“That would have been one of my guesses. What's the other guy look like?”

“Walk down to his room and see for yourself,” he said.

“Billy?” I felt the rage fly through my body, but Robbie was my first responsibility. He nodded. Then he moved forward and kissed me. We just lay there in bed, making out. Not wild passion, not “I want to fuck you” kissing, just two people who love each other making out. He stopped, stronger now. “What caused it?”

“He got in my face in the locker room. I could have handled that, but then he started calling me your boyfriend. Told everyone we were in love, we were faggots. Told the team that I would blow them all.” After what happened to him in Claremont, that must have shaken him to the core.

“Then he dies,” I said calmly. I was fully ready to go kill him. OK, maybe not death. The hospital at least.

“He looks like I do. I didn't lose the fight.”

“You mean it was like a draw?”

“No,” he said sadly. “I kicked his ass. I lost it Brad. I really hurt him. They took him to the hospital.” I nodded and kissed him again.

“So I can't really go down to his room and see him?” I teased.

“Nope. He's in the hospital.”

“This is going to make things a little rough around here, you realize that, right?” He moved his head slightly, in acknowledgment. “What did you hurt?”

“I broke his arm.” He looked so sad. “He said those things and I pushed him, told him to shut the fuck up, and then he punched me.” He raised his hand up to his eye. “Then I just lost it.”

“He's an asshole. He deserved it.” He just shook his head.

“I'm suspended for the rest of the week. And we both got booted off the team.”

“I'm sorry about that. I really am. I know how much you like football.”

He sighed and rolled onto his back. I ran my fingers over his broad chest, and across his abdomen. I noticed his towel start to tent. I kissed him again, this time with the intent to make him horny, and then I moved my mouth down to his cock and gave him a great blow job.

“You know how to cheer me up,” he said. There was a knock at the door. He covered himself up and I got up to answer it.

It was JP, of course, looking pissed off. “Is Robbie here?”

“Come on in,” I said, gesturing as I held the door open for him.

He looked at me and I could tell what was on his mind. He wanted to ask me to leave. I was a pain in the ass when he wanted to brow beat someone. Our eyes focused on each other. He got his response. I wasn't going anywhere.

JP looked at Robbie and asked coldly, “Would you like to tell me your version of what happened?”

Robbie nodded and pretty much repeated the story verbatim. JP nodded, and I saw him get uncomfortable. This was not the same story that Billy told him. He waited until Robbie was done and then paused.

“Did you have to break his arm? You had him on the ground. You'd already bruised one of his ribs.”

“Probably not. I was so mad at him, mad at him for telling everyone that Brad and I were together, for trying to make me into the team fuck-boy again. I've never been anything but nice to him. Even the other night, I wasn't mean. And he pulls this.” His hand went up to his black eye in the perfect gesture. We should get him a job in Hollywood.

“Billy is dealing with some issues,” JP said simply.

“So his 'issues' give him the right to out me in my senior year?” I asked.

He looked at me and sighed, as if to say 'this is why I didn't want you in here.' Turning back to Robbie, JP continued, “You have seriously hurt Billy. And he has seriously hurt you. There have to be consequences for your actions.” Robbie nodded.

“I've talked to Isidore and we think it may be a good idea for Billy to have a change in environment. We'll probably be sending him off to a private school in the next week or two. It will help him get his feet on the ground in his own world. He won't feel overshadowed by his older brothers or his popular sister.”

“You think that's what this is all about?” I demanded.

“Please, Brad, can you let me finish one thought without an argument?”

“Sure Dad. Just explain to me how his abusing Mouse fits into that diagnosis.”

He glared at me. “Enough. I think that it is unfair to ship Billy off to private school while you are allowed to get off without the same punishment. After you think about this, I've got a guide on schools for you to look at.”

“So you're throwing him out? You are throwing my boyfriend, the man I love, out of the house?” He looked at me; the fatigue was clear on his face. “It's going to be a lot less crowded around here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“You come back and tell me where you got your psychology degree, and I'll explain that to you,” I said loudly. Then I walked over to the door and opened it. He sighed and walked out.

“I guess I need to pick a new school,” Robbie said sadly. “I fucked up again.”

“This isn't you. You don't even have a violent temper. This is bullshit. Grab some clothes,” I said, “enough for a week.”

“Why?”

“We're out of here.”

“You don't have to go,” he whined.

“The whole football team knows I'm a fag anyway. I can't stay here.”

“But...”

“Just pack up some stuff, OK?” I said, cutting him off. I looked at my watch. 6:45pm. Almost dinnertime. I called Stefan.

“Hello Bradley, how are you?”

“Shitty.” I gave him an abbreviated story, from the scene with Mouse to the fight with JP. He knew why I was calling, and he was both happy and nervous.

“Stef, you said your door was always open. I need a place to stay.”

“When will you be here?” he asked.

“Late tonight or early tomorrow. I have to say goodbye at dinner. Tonto would kill me if I didn't.”

“Drive carefully. And please, stop on the way at a hotel if you get tired.” I thanked him and hung up the phone. I grabbed a few things and stuffed them in a bag.

“We going to Malibu?” Robbie asked.

“Right after dinner.” We went and put the bags in the Ferrari, and got to the table just in time. Billy wasn't there; presumably he was still at the hospital. Neither was my mother.

“We're missing a few people,” Tonto said.

“Billy is at the hospital and Isidore is with him,” JP said.

“What happened to him?” Tonto asked.

“He told the football team that Robbie and Brad were gay, and then made some other rude comments about them. He and Robbie got in a fight.” Claire described it just as Robbie had.

Everyone looked at Robbie and his black eye. “You broke his arm?” asked Ace, slightly hostile until I glared at him.

“That's merely hearsay Claire. You weren't there,” JP interjected, clinging to the forlorn hope that it was Robbie who was lying, and not Billy.

“I should hope not,” Jack said, trying to joke. It fell flat. “I heard the same story,” he said.

“So did I,” Mouse said. “I talked to Dan on the phone, and he was there.”

“That's a lot of hearsay Dad,” I observed rudely. He said nothing. “Dad has decided that Billy and Robbie should be punished, and the punishment is that they are to be banished from this house. So we came to dinner to say goodbye to all of you.”

“You're not leaving,” JP said. I turned on him, ready to let him have it. “At least I don't want you to.”

“It is obvious to any sane person that Billy has some serious problems,” I argued. “He's been abusive to Mouse, and now he's destroyed my senior year at Gunn. If I leave now, maybe Ace will still be able to enjoy his. So you decide to punish Robbie for sticking up for me. That's twisted.”

Tonto had tears in her eyes. She was so upset she threw off her facade. “I don't want you to leave,” she said. “Where will you go?”

“I don't know where they're sending Billy, Tonto, but we're going to Malibu. We're going to stay with Stef and Greg and finish up school there.”

I walked around the table and said goodbye to all of them. It was incredibly painful. The hardest thing I've ever had to do. “You all know where we are, so visit.” We'd all be too busy for them to do that. They knew it, I knew it.

Robbie pulled out the keys to his Jeep and tossed them to Mouse. “Here Mouse, you'll need these in a month or two.” Mouse beamed at him even as tears flowed down his cheek. He was a sophomore too, in Drivers Ed. with Claire and Billy. His birthday was in March, but he could look at, feel, and touch his jeep in the mean time.

Then Robbie walked up to JP. “I'm really sorry Dr. Crampton. I really appreciate everything you've done for me.” He hugged JP, shocking the shit out of him, and then walked out of the room.

We just stared at each other, JP and I, anger at peak levels on both sides. I couldn't say goodbye like that, and neither could he. I just walked past him, and out of the house. The melodic sound of the Ferrari began the soothing process, and the joint that I lit completed it.

“You sure about this?” Robbie asked as we tore down I-280.

“What choice do I have? The whole school knows we're queer. You wanna get in fights every day? We'll start over. You and me.” He smiled at me, hiding his concern.

Driving at night had distinct advantages, the primary one being a lack of traffic. I flew down Interstate 5, probably begging for a ticket, but I got lucky. A trip that should have taken us six hours took us less than five.

It was almost 1am when we got there, but Stef was up and waiting for us. So was Greg. “Hello sweeties!” he said and hugged us both. So did Greg. I held my hug with him and felt his arms flutter, and then he hugged me back harder and longer. He reminded me of JP, only he still loved me, and I desperately needed him now. He seemed to sense that. He probably figured that out from the beginning, and that's why he stayed up.

“Look honey,” Stef said to Greg, “I finally gave birth to two bouncing boys.” Robbie and I jumped up and down to simulate bouncing, and we all laughed. “You have an early morning. You go to bed and I will take care of our runaways.” Greg nodded, gave us another hug, and headed to bed.

“And now, you must tell me what happened. You know I have to know all the details,” Stef pleaded. He was so funny, so lively. We sat in the front room and told him about our tales of woe.

“I tried to tell JP about Billy when I got back to Escorial, but he wouldn't hear it. He has developed a blind spot for Billy, which is sad, because with JP shielding him, there is no reason for him to ever change,” Stef said sadly.

“Is that why you left Escorial without saying goodbye?” I asked.

“A little guilt?” he asked. “It is deserved. I'm sorry I vanished. I felt very uncomfortable there. I guess the whole thing with Jeff, and having that all come back and hit me in the face like that, made me sad. Made me want to come home.”

“I was teasing,” I told him. “We were just nervous. It is not like you to leave like that. Especially since it means risking Tonto's wrath.”

“She must really have missed me. She will be here tomorrow.”

“What?” I couldn't believe it.

“She is very upset about the way JP is handling things, but she loves him dearly, and is completely devoted to him. She knows that if she stays there her big mouth will get her into trouble. Especially with your mother.”

“With Mother?”

“Billy is her baby. Why do you think your father is fighting these battles on such unsure footing? That is why he dreads arguments with you Bradley. Your logic is unassailable.”

“So she is forcing JP to choose Billy over me?” I asked. That really cut to the core. She was the only mother I knew, the only mother I had. Now even my adopted mother hated me.

“It is not like that. You are being a bit too self-centered. She is fighting for her youngest, for her baby. She does not see you as the one hurting him. She sees Robbie and Mouse causing the problems.”

I didn't buy it completely, but I figured I could make myself miserable later on, when I was all by myself. Robbie hung his head, the guilt threatening to overwhelm him. Stef picked up on that. “And Robbie, you must not let her fit of estrogen make you feel guilty. You did what you had to do. You defended your man. How very masculine of you,” he said, leering at Robbie and making him grin. Stef was amazing with people, figuring them out and then working to disarm them, to make them comfortable.

“So poor Greg is to be saddled with his nephew, his nephew's studly boyfriend that he's not allowed to fuck, and his mother-in-law?” I teased.

“It does not appear to be a banner day for him,” he joked. “He is very excited that you are here. A secret between the three of us?” Stef made us nod, and acted like we were talking about missile launch codes. “He has been hoping that you would end up with us. I think in his mind he was wishing for an event not too unpleasant, but one that would bring you here.”

“Really?” I knew there was a huge smile on my face now. I'd just been run out of my house on a rail, only to find that these guys had wanted me here all this time. “It is a very good thing to be wanted.”

“You said Jeff upset you. Reliving that did. And I look like him. Will my being here upset you?” Robbie asked. He was sensitive to other people's needs, just like Stefan.

“No, sweetie, not at all.” He sighed. “I have learned to love Jeff and the good times we had. You make me remember those things. There were...” his voice faded.

“Tell me Stef.” I ordered. “I mean, I had to endure sex with Marc Sievres, the least you can do is spill the story.” I realized that I'd made a huge mistake referencing him in front of Robbie and started to panic. He put his arm on my shoulder, to tell me it was OK, to tell me that all of this new shit had so eclipsed that episode it could truly be forgotten.

“Sex with him is never something you endure,” Stef said, teasing. “He is an expert, a professional.” He looked at Robbie. “I know you were mad about that, but make Brad show you what he learned. After that, you will hug Marc if you see him again.”

“There's a thought,” Robbie said and gave me a lustful look.

“And you are changing the subject,” I told Stef, refusing to be derailed.

“Sometimes when I think about Jeff I get feelings of anger, anger toward JP.” I looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “It was not flattering to be in direct competition with him for Jeff and to lose. And then, when they broke up, to have him still so obsessed with JP that he would dump me and steal a lot of money from me, that was a major blow to my ego.” He stopped there, but the story wasn't done. He didn't want to go on, but I waited him out. “And then JP did not even tell me the truth about how Jeff died.”

“I was told he died of a drug overdose,” Robbie said.

“He did. But he was not alone when he died.”

“You mean he was murdered?” I was appalled. Did JP do it?

Stefan sighed. “Jason told me that he thought Jeff had some damaging information on JP and that he was blackmailing JP for money. I suspect that is true. The last time we saw him he was focused on drugs, and nothing else.” The sad look in Stef's eyes was killing me. “Sam went there, to Claremont, with a plan to murder him. But when he got there, Jeff was getting ready to kill himself. So Sam and Jason, instead of murdering him, they sat there with him and held his hand while he overdosed, while he killed himself.” Tears were rolling down his face now. “And no one told me. They thought I was too flighty, or fragile, or whatever. So they kept that from me. Jason told me years later.”

“I am a happy person, but I am not a fool. I am more successful than any of them. Yet they treat me like a child; try to shelter me from the realities of life. It is very offensive.” I held his hands and looked at him. He was successful. He was strong. He was resilient. But the “they” he kept referring to wasn't a “they,” it was JP.

“It is late, and I have inflicted my emotions on you. That is unfair. Go to bed, and tomorrow we will try to figure out how to continue your education.” More hugs, and then we were in our new room, in our new house.

“So that Marc guy was a good lover huh?” Robbie asked.

“I'm so sorry,” I started to babble, to apologize, but he shut me up.

“I already forgave you. It's over. So why don't you show me what he did to you that makes you smile whenever the issue comes up?” His hands were on my body; his lips were kissing my cheeks, my neck. “Show me what you learned Brad. Come on,” he was breathing heavy, panting into my ear. And then I was on top of him, he wrapped his body around mine, and I showed him why Marc was such a good lover, and showed him what good lovers we could be because of my indiscretion.

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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