Be Rad - 17. Chapter 17

July 31, 1980

We drove silently then, a silence that hung over us like a thick fog. We got to Tracy and I pulled over for gas. “I'm gonna pee,” he said. “You want anything?”

I thought about saying something corny like “you” but rejected it. “A Pepsi would be good.” He just nodded and headed into the station. A couple of local boys came over to ogle the Ferrari. Probably 14-year-olds. Normally I would have been friendly, but this time I was just civil. They'd probably go away thinking I was a total dick, which I guess I was.

I finished pumping gas, turned on the motor, and headed over to the store to wait for Robbie. It was funny; he came out and looked around frantically. He must be worried that I left him. I honked the horn and he hopped in.

“I thought you left me,” he said.

“I thought you were leaving me,” I said acidly.

“You don't like being my friend?” he asked.

“You tell me that you don't trust me, make me feel like a total slut, and make me feel like shit for betraying you when there wasn't any commitment there in the first place. Then you don't talk to me for miles and miles. I don't fucking know what to think.” I was pissed.

“What do you want?” he asked, but not in a friendly way, in a bitchy, aggressive way.

“Why don't you fucking grow a pair and tell me what you want. You always wait for me to make all of the decisions, to open up first. Then when I do, you jump in and slice me to pieces. So why don't you tell me what you fucking want?”

“I want to get home and to get the fuck away from you,” he said, glaring at me.

“A couple of hours and your wish is granted.”

More silence. We hit Interstate 680 and he finally said something. “I don't know what I want.” I said nothing. It intrigued me that he seemed to talk when we came to a major freeway interchange. At this rate, I'd have to wait until we got to Highway 101 before he uttered another revelation. We screamed over the mountain at Sunol then down into Milipitas. What kind of name was that anyway? Then into the flat lands, through the fringe edge of the barrio, and then we crossed over Highway 101 and were back on Interstate 280.

“I'd like to at least be your friend,” he said, as if on cue. I almost chuckled at his predictability.

“That's going to be pretty hard if you don't trust me,” I said.

He ignored my bitchy tone. “I trust you as a friend, just not as a boyfriend.”

“Look Robbie, you're going to be living with us, so we have to be at least friends. That's not negotiable. We can fight and argue, but when the day is up, we have to make up.”

“I don't think I should stay here.”

“What?! You're going to leave us all because you can't trust me not to fuck around on you? How is that fair to everyone else? For some reason, they like you, even if you're ready to up and bail on them the minute you get your feelings hurt.”

He looked at me, really pissed. So pissed it was almost scary. “My feelings aren't hurt, they're shredded. Shards of glass ground into them just to make them bleed. You mean a lot more to me than I do to you, so you just don't get it. Selfish bastard.”

He couldn't have known how much the word bastard would hit me. At least I hope not. I felt a tear run out of my eye and wiped it away. His expression faded from anger to concern. “Well, you hit the bastard part right on the head. That's me. I have no blood relationship to anyone at Escorial. And you're probably right about the selfish thing too. So maybe it's best if I wander off and just hang with the people who think I'm worth talking to. And you, Mr. Perfect, can just ignore me.”

More silence. The next intersection was Highway 17. I waited for that, smiling inwardly despite the raw emotions he evoked in me. Sure enough, as soon as we passed by that massive interchange, he spoke again. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to call you that.”

“You didn't know. I'm sorry for being such a dick.” He smiled at me, and it felt so good to see him look at me with an expression other than anger or sadness. More silence. I was disappointed because there were no more major intersections before we got home. We were in Cupertino now. It looked like we wouldn't be able to resolve this before we got home unless I spoke up. “I'll tell you what I want. I want to be your boyfriend. To be a couple. That's what I want.”

“I can't do that,” he said sadly. “I want to, but I can't.”

“Why not?” I asked, not maliciously, but out of genuine curiosity.

“Because if I do, I'll be paranoid. Every time I see you with another guy, or girl, I'll wonder if you're fucking them, or blowing him, or doing something, anything with him, and it will chew me up inside. I can't go there. I'm not strong enough to handle that, and you'd end up hating me because I'd be such an idiot.”

“You think you can get there someday?” I asked, and felt the tears come back.

“Anything's possible,” he said.

“So we're friends, that's it?” I asked.

“We can't be boyfriends, what more do you want?”

My libido kicked in. I realized that talking to Robbie in this mode was like talking to a girl. If you want to get laid, you have to play it cool. “I want to be with you.”

“You mean you want to fuck me,” he said, irritated.

“Yeah,” I told him flashing him a smile that totally disarmed him. “You telling me that you don't like it when I fuck you?”

He blushed. “I'm not saying that. If I did, you'd know it was a lie. Let's see how things go, OK? I just want to get home and spend a little time by myself.” And my timing couldn't have been better, because I pulled up to the gates right after he said that. I pulled up to the garage and didn't even unpack. I just wanted to get to my bedroom and to safety.

As soon as the door opened JP was waiting for us. How did he do that? Was he psychic or something? “Did you guys have a nice time?” he asked.

Robbie said nothing and just pushed past him to his room. “It was OK,” I said. “I'm not in the mood to talk about it right now. Later, OK Dad?” He nodded and looked worried. I headed to my room, locked the door, and got out my paint. For the next six hours no one bothered me and I painted the most depressing painting I'd ever painted. I took a shower and went to bed. Alone.

August 1, 1980

I woke up miserable, but I was determined that no one else would see it. I owed my dad an explanation, so I went off to find him. He was in his study, of course.

“You OK?” he asked as soon as I came into the room.

“Not really. We had a great time in Yosemite, I told him that I loved him, he told me that he loved me, and then I, well, he sort of wormed it out of me that I blew Lark last week. So he got pissed, told me he couldn't trust me, and that we could be friends, and that's it.”

He studied me carefully. I could see him weighing his love for me and the instinct to be in my corner, with a cooler examination of the facts. I felt my shoulders slump, knowing that if he was honest with me, he'd tell me what an asshole I'd been. “Brad, maybe it's better if you're just friends. It may make it tougher for Robbie to live with us if you have an intense and volatile relationship.”

“That's easy for you to say, and you're probably right, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.” I felt tears rise to my eyes and I tried to stop them, but I couldn't. He moved over and hugged me, trying to transfer some of his strength to me. I desperately needed to change the subject. “What about you? You got a new man yet?”

“You mean Roger?” he asked with a smile. “We're friends.”

“Friends?” I asked raising my eyebrows.

“Friends.” he said firmly.

“Then you won't mind if I stop by the winery and see him, now that I'm single again.” I said with a playful raise of my eyebrow.

“I didn't say that. That wouldn't be your best idea.” He said this and sounded irritated, which intrigued me. I raised my right eyebrow again in a Mr. Spock imitation and he grinned at me. “Maybe it's a little more advanced than friendship.”

“Good. What about Sam?” His eyes darkened, a look of gloom and sadness.

“We don't talk much. I went to see him last week but he wasn't alone. I probably could have handled things a little better.”

I laughed. “What did you do? Beat up his lover?”

“No, I just left, but our conversation after that wasn't very civil.”

“Was he with that girl?” I asked. He got really uncomfortable. Really nervous.

“No,” he said simply.

“You're hiding something Dad. Who was it?”

He was positively anguished, both because I had him in a corner and because he had given himself away. “Jeff, Billy's father, he did what you do. He could read my mind. It always pissed me off.” I just stared at him, waiting.

He sighed and walked over to his desk and ran his hands across the smooth mahogany top. “He was with Jake.” I felt my jaw drop but I almost physically pulled it back into shape. “It seems their little encounter in Claremont was only a beginning. I was a little, shall we say, assertive in explaining the morality of a man sleeping with a 16-year-old boy, but that didn't have a very positive result.”

“I'm sorry Dad. I really am. Jake is bad news. He's a total slut with no scruples.” He nodded. “I promised Stef I'd visit, so I think I'm going to head to Malibu for a week or two, OK?”

“OK. Maybe things will calm down around here while you're gone.”

I headed back to my room to pack up some things to take with me. I'd really enjoyed my road trip, so I figured I'd drive. Save Stefan some money on plane flights. I noticed that Robbie's door was slightly ajar so I peeked in. He was sitting on his bed taping up his leg. Guess he was getting ready to go practice kicking. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said happily, and then remembering that we were supposed to be mad at each other, he changed his countenance to a frown. Too funny. I shut the door and locked it and walked over to him. “What are you doing?” he asked me.

I pushed him back and jumped on top of him, forcing my lips onto his, grinding my body into his. He resisted, tried to fight me off, and clenched his mouth to block my kisses. I felt the resistance fade from his body, felt his mouth open to let my probing tongue in, felt his body respond to mine. He reached down for my zipper and I got up on my knees and undid it, while he pulled his pants down and turned away from me, begging me to fuck him. I did. We didn't say anything; we just enjoyed each other physically. When I came, it was wonderful, but not like before. There was something missing. The emotional bond had been damaged.

“Well, you fucked me. You happy?” he said, angry.

I kissed him again, forcefully because he fought me. “No I didn't, I made love to you. I did it then, and I'm going to do it every chance I get.” He actually grinned at that.

“You are a pretty good piece of ass,” he said playfully.

“Thanks. You better work out if you're going to fight me off. You lost that battle,” I teased.

“Maybe I wanted to lose,” he teased back.

“I'm going to Malibu for a week or so. I wanted to tell you, and I don't want you to feel bad about it, OK?”

“Why would I feel bad about it?” he demanded.

“Because you'll sit here, missing my big dick and amazing personality and you'll blame yourself because I'm gone.”

He positively beamed at me now. “You're probably right.”

“I always go to Malibu at the end of summer. This seems like a good time to do it. It will give you some time to settle in on your own, and it will be easier if I'm not around.”

“I'll miss you though,” he said, and I could tell he regretted it as soon as he said it.

“I'll miss you too. Know this though. Someday we will be together, a couple, just like Stef and Greg.”

“Maybe,” he said with a smile.

“No. No maybes about it,” I responded firmly.

“I have to get to practice,” he said, pushing me off of him.

“You got a few more minutes?” I said with a leer, and we made love again. The void was still there, and that made me sad, but it was smaller than the first time. Improvement. Something positive to focus on.

Back to my room to take a shower and pack. Lark came strolling in while I was packing.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“Malibu,” I said.

“Without me?” He seemed hurt, upset.

“You wanna go?”

He pouted. “Not if you don't want me to.”

He was pissing me off. “Look Lark, I had a shitty couple of days and part of the reason I'm leaving is to put some space between me and this place. So I'm not in the mood for guilt trips or bullshit.” He stared at me, stunned and hurt. “You wanna come along, great. I'd love your company. If not, that's fine too. But I want to leave here in an hour, so if you're going, get your shit together.”

He smiled back at me, looked around furtively, and then gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Pick me up in an hour and I'll be ready.”

I smiled back. “Not much room in the Ferrari, so don't pack too heavily.”

“We're driving? Gnarly!” And he was gone in a flash.

Ace and Billy walked by and stopped to say “hi”, or “bye” as soon as they figured out I was leaving. I told them my whole sob story. I'd have to do this at least two more times, for Lark and for Stef, and it was already old.

“Don't worry man,” Ace said. “He'll get over it. You'll see.”

Billy didn't seem as confident. “It will work out, and at least you're friends, right?” I nodded without enthusiasm.

Claire and my mother were gone, so after a quick goodbye to JP I headed to Lark's house, picked him up, and headed to Malibu. Driving the Ferrari was so therapeutic, and we must have looked pretty hot in it: Two guys, tanned and in shape, wearing our Vuarnet sunglasses and cruising down the freeway in one of the most awesome cars on the planet. Lark was absolutely euphoric. He chattered away about nothing in particular as we headed south on 101. I found that I missed Robbie's contented silence. When we got closer to Gilroy, where you cross over to Interstate 5 for the fastest way to LA, Lark kicked in an idea. “Hey B, it's still pretty early, only noon. Let's take 101. It will be more scenic, and we'll be close to the coast.”

“Sounds good,” I said, so we took the longer, more scenic route.

“So how was Yosemite?” he asked.

“Not so good,” I said. I filled him in on the whole thing until I got to the part about him. “I told him that I blew you, so he broke up with me.”

“You told him that? What if he tells everyone I'm gay?”

“Does everything have to be about you, asshole,” I said. “How is he going to out you without outing himself? Besides, Robbie isn't like that.”

He realized how raw my wounds were and backed up. “Sorry B. But shit, it was just a blow job. A really good blow job, don't get me wrong...” he grinned.

“He thinks you're in love with me,” I told him.

Lark seemed really flustered by that. His reaction was weird. “I told you I'm not gay,” he said firmly.

“His read on it is that you may like women, and me.” I grinned at him. “Which is pretty flattering since I don't have very big tits.”

He laughed but was uncomfortable. “I'm really sorry B. I never meant to come between the two of you. I feel bad. You finally find the guy to make you happy and I mess it up for you.”

“Well then you owe me, and your penance is that you have to fill the void.”

“Oh yeah, which void do you want filled?” he asked, feigning a slutty attitude. I chuckled.

Our detour cost us lots of time, so it wasn't until 9PM that we got into Malibu. Driving the Ferrari was an absolute blast, and it made road trips a lot of fun. I drove up to Stef's house and it looked pretty dark. “Did they know we were coming?” Lark asked.

“No, I didn't call first. I left in too big of a hurry.” I was nervous now, but even if they were gone, Alice would be here to let us in. And if that failed, I knew where the secret key was. I knocked on the door and no one answered, so I looked around and thankfully found the secret key. Lark and I walked into the house and there was absolutely no one home.

“I'm hungry and there's no one here. Not even Alice,” Lark whined playfully. We headed to the kitchen and raided it like a starving army. We heard a door open up and heard laughing and giggling.

“That movie was really good. Unique. I liked it a lot,” Stef said.

“You're the one that talked me into backing it,” Greg said lovingly. I was so happy for them. They were such a cute couple. I grinned at Lark and he grinned back. For so many years I thought he'd be the one that would make me happy like that, and then, I'd thought it would be Robbie. Maybe there wasn't a guy for me like Greg. Maybe that was a rare dream for only those special few.

“Bradley!” Stefan shrieked as soon as he saw me. “What an amazing surprise! Greg, look who's here!” Then he collapsed into my arms, giving me a big hug. Greg came in right afterward, grinning just as big. He gave me a big hug but didn't even try to talk. Stef was chattering and on a roll.

“And you brought Lark. Seems like you owe me something,” Stef said with a leer, and I started laughing and couldn't stop. The look on Lark's face was priceless.

“You don't want to make Brad jealous, now do you?” he shot back playfully. That stopped my laughing cold. He admitted that we fucked around. What the fuck was that all about? Stefan caught my reaction and raised his eyebrows, but he was too cultured, too good of a host to leave that awkward moment in the room.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked.

“For a week, if that's OK with you,” I said.

“Of course it's alright. Our house is your house. Greg, can we get them tickets for tomorrow night's movie?”

He smiled at Stef indulgently. “I'm sure we can.”

“It's not a musical is it?” I teased him.

“As a matter of fact, it is. Or at least I think it is. Xanadu, starring Olivia Newton John.”

Lark rolled his eyes. “I thought all straight boys liked her?” Stef said.

“Does she show her titties?” he asked.

“Well, you'll just have to come along and find out. Did you bring clothes for a night out on the town in Hollywood?”

“Nope,” I said. “Not a lot of room in the Ferrari.”

“I'm sorry. Do you not like it?” he asked, all concerned.

“Fuck yeah,” I said. “Are you kidding?”

“That car is the absolute, ultimate driving machine,” Lark added. Stefan smiled, happy that he'd made me happy. God, I loved him.

“What movie did you go see?” I asked.

“'Final Countdown.' It was good, about an aircraft carrier that gets sucked back in time.”

“Sounds better than a musical,” Lark chirped, getting a faux dirty look from Stefan.

“We only have your room made up,” Stef said. “The room Lark usually uses, well, you do not want to go in there yet. Armand was here and that's where he stayed.”

“I don't mind,” said Lark.

“Yes you do,” I told him.

“Well, tomorrow is a busy day. We must go shopping in the morning. Do not argue with me Lark,” Stef said preemptively. “Then we need to be back here early enough so you boys can go surfing, no?” Lark smiled at him thankfully. “So you two should ‘hit the bed’ as they say.”

“It's ‘hit the sack’, Stef,” I told him. He rolled his eyes.

“I'll head up and take a shower first,” Lark said. I nodded, thinking sadly that if he were Robbie, we would have gone together.

As soon as he left, Stef looked at me. “And what is bothering you? Where is Robbie?”

I told him my whole sob story, thankful that this was the last time, hopefully, I'd have to replay it.

“I'm so sorry,” he said. “It is very hard to meet your soul mate at 17 when you still have so much experimenting to do. But if it is meant to be, it will be. In the meantime, try to enjoy yourself.”

“Well that's always good advice,” I told him.

“If you get horny, there is always Jake,” he told me jokingly.

“Jake is so not in my life anymore,” I told him.

“And why is that?” he asked, a little defensively.

“He's got a boyfriend,” I told him, waiting for him to pay full attention. “Sam.”

Stef's eyes got big, and then sad. “Does JP know?”

“He told me. He went over to visit and Jake was there. He didn't say it, but I'd bet they weren't just sitting around chatting.”

“That is so sad. I keep hoping they will rediscover each other.” It was so obvious how much Stef cared about JP. It really was touching.

“I think he and Roger are involved.”

Stef smiled. “I asked him that and he told me they are not, they are just friends.”

I smiled bigger. “Yes, but when I asked him if it was OK if I stopped by the winery, you know, since I'm single and all, he told me that wouldn't be a good idea.” We both started laughing so loud Greg came in and gave us a dirty look.

“I thought you guys were going to bed,” he said grumpily.

“I'm sorry Greg. We were just gossiping. Night,” I said, kissing them both on the cheek and heading to bed. By the time I got to my room the lights were off and I could hear Lark snoring softly in bed. I took a quick shower and headed to bed, nudging him over to make room. Lark can be a bed hog.

I lay on my back, thinking about the last few days, when Lark rolled on top of me playfully. I felt his hard dick rubbing against my leg while his lips moved up my neck and jaw to my lips. I loved kissing him, really loved it. “Brad, help out a friend?” he whispered with his husky voice in my ear. “I'm so horny.”

I grabbed the lube on the nightstand and reached down to work his pole, and then I pulled my legs back to give him access. He moved fast and in no time at all he was inside me. He kissed me lovingly as he fucked me; he was so gentle and slow and caring, it was wonderful. Then he picked up his pace and reached down and grabbed my dick, stroking me in time to his thrusts. He broke his lip lock to pant in my ear, and then he rose up and pounded me, blowing his wad into my ass while he stroked me frantically, sending me over the edge. I grabbed a towel and wiped us off, and he snuggled up next to me. “That was nice B,” he said.

“It was,” I told him. What I didn't tell him is that it wasn't nearly as magical or meaningful as it had been with Robbie. Lark moved off of me and I turned on my side to go to sleep, facing away from him. When I did, a tear ran out of my eye and landed on my pillow. Just one, but there were a whole lot more there just waiting to get out.