Finding Love: A Journey
By: Scotty
(Copyright 2007 by the author)

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The characters in this story do not always practice safe sex.  Remember this is fiction.  You should always use a condom for the your protection and especially for the protection of the one you love.  The author recommends only safe sex.  Be wise and follow safe sex practices.

Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held by the artists or their publishers and not by the author. They are quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.

All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

All other disclaimers apply. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1
Journey to Love

My first week at the Palm High School in Florida was utter agony. I didn't know where to go and I was wearing all the wrong clothes.  I had a big three-ring notebook that no one else carried, and I was wearing black lace-up shoes and not sneakers, loafers, or sandals.  I also was wearing black socks.  Almost everyone laughed at me. 

I decided not to go to the cafeteria to have lunch, so I hid in the bathroom in a stall.  That worked for a short while.  But on Friday, Bradley Mason, the quarterback on the football team, saw me crying and hurrying into the bathroom.  He followed me in, but I was no where to be seen.  He did notice the door of one of the stalls was closed.  He walked over and knocked on the door.

(Knock. Knock. Knock.)

"Hey, guy, are you okay?"


I was frightened and didn't answer.  I pulled my books up tight against me as I sat on the toilet; tears were running down my face.

"Come on, this is scary.  Are you okay?  Give me an answer, please," he asked.

Through some gulps and a couple of sobs, I answered him,

"Yeah.  I'm okay."

"Then why are you crying? 'Sup?"

I couldn't answer him.  He banged on the door again.


"If you don't open this fuckin' door, I'll knock it down, understand?"

As I unlatched the stall door, I lost my balance and fell forward onto the floor, my books and papers flying everywhere.

"Please don't hit me, I begged.

Bradley Mason stood there looking at me, bewilderment on his face.  He extended his hand and helped me to my feet.

"Why do you think I want to hit you?"

"Don't know.  Everyone here hates me and picks on me.  You're the same, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not the same.  I thought I could help you.  What's your name anyway?

"Jacob, Jacob Neilson."

"Well, I'm Bradley Mason, but everyone, including my parents call me Brad.  So please call me Brad.  Now let's get your papers up off the floor.  Then we're going to the cafeteria and get some grub, and we're going to have a little talk.  Come on, wash your face with some cold water.  God you're a mess.  Here, let me help." 

He grabbed a couple of paper towels and soaked them with cold water.  He gently wiped my face, and let the cold towels rest a bit on my swollen, red eyes.



"Come on."




I followed Brad out of the bathroom and into the corridor, then to the cafeteria and into a new chapter in my life.  He walked beside me, looked down and smiled at me.  Something was happening to me and I didn't know what, but when Bradley smiled at me, my legs got weak and my heart pounded, even my cock started to twitch.  I didn't understand, but in the hours that were to follow, I would learn much about Brad and myself.  It would not take a long time before I knew about myself and was able to tell Brad about my feelings.

Brad looked at me and smiled, leaned in and whispered to me, "Smile, you look like you might faint." And then he snickered.

My face turned deep red and I looked at my shoes.  Finally I looked up and into his beautiful green eyes.  I couldn't speak for a moment because I had no breath.  He had taken it away with his smile and those eyes.

"Never been in the cafeteria for a meal.  Well, not at this school.  So I'm a little nervous.  Been threatened."  I confided.

Brad's face reddened with anger.  And although he was whispering, I knew others could hear.

"Who the hell threatened you, Jake?  Tell me," he demanded.

"Cheeseburger and fries," he told the lunchroom lady.  Then he looked at me.  "Make it two, one for each of us."

"Thanks," I mumbled. 

We picked up some milk and headed to the table where some football players were sitting.  As we got closer, I could tell that they were looking at me, chatting and laughing.  I started to move in a different direction away from Brad and the guys, but it didn't work.  He took me by the arm and pulled me to the table.

"This is Jacob Neilson.  Jake, these are some of my friends, and he pointed to them, that's Kevin Blain, Todd Collins, Ashton Taylor, Greg Crawford, and Conner Ricci."  There were some 'hi's' and 'good to meet ya's'. 

Quickly the conversation went to other matters: the coming game with St. Bernard's Prep and the dance on the next Saturday night.  Kevin looked at Todd and winked; he asked,

"So, Jacob, who ya takin' to the dance?  I bet she's a babe."


"Not going," I barely whispered.

"Hey, a great lookin' guy like ya has to be takin' some cutie to the dance and then after the dance, lookin' for some pussy or a hot blow job," laughed Kevin.

"Hey, guys, knock that shit off.  Can't ya see it's embarrassing Jacob.  Enough already," Brad told them with a firmness that surprised not only me but them, too.

Ashton got a little defensive when he told Brad, " For Chrissakes, no one is trying to be mean or anything.  We're just having a little fun.  Sorry, Jacob, if we hurt you."

I didn't look up from my tray, and I knew my face was red, but I forced out,

"It's okay.  I'm just a little shy."

"We gotta get goin'," Conner interjected.  "Class starts in five minutes and I have to traipse halfway across this fuckin' campus.  Come on assholes, let's make time."

The guys gathered up their backpacks and trays and left Brad and me alone at the table.

"Sorry about that, Jake.  Is it okay if I call you Jake?"

"Yeah, I like it when you call me Jake.  It's okay about the guys.  I mean, they look at me and wonder what the dickens you're doing with me.  Look at you, Brad, you're an athlete, good lookin' and smart. You're the quarterback.  Bet the girls hound you and most of the guys look up to you.  And then look at me, everything about me says 'loser'.  You'd be better off if we weren't friends any more.  I don't want to hurt your reputation."

The last few words were barely audible as my emotions began building and I was trying to keep from crying again.

Brad reached across the table, and as he moved to take my tray away, he rested his hand on mine, and as he did, he told me,

"Look, Jake, if it's okay with you, why don't you let me pick my friends.  I like you, and I want you to be my friend.  I don't give a rat's ass what those dinkheads think.  They're all mouth and no brain.  Some of them are pretty nice guys and once you get to know them you'll probably like them.  But if you don't like them, that's okay, too.  What's important is that I want you as a friend and I hope you want me for a friend.  Does that make sense?"

I was blushing profusely now, and my tongue seemed to want to work, but my brain didn't know it.  Finally I was able to squeeze out,

"I do want you for a friend."

Brad laughed a laugh that revealed a good heart and a nice guy.  He looked me directly in the eyes, patted my hand and said,

"Well, that's settled then.  Where's your next class?"

I started to get up and follow Brad and smiled as I told him,

"It's in the English wing." 

After he put our trays away, he took my head under his arm, sort of like a wrestling hold, and smiling said,

"Well, would you believe that?  I'm headed there, too.  Who's your teacher?"

"Mr. Wiley."

Laughing as we walked down the hall toward the English Wing, Brad said,

"Good, ole, Wile E Coyote.  This should be fun."

I just smiled at him as we walked into the classroom and took our seats next to each other.  My heart was beating so fast that I thought I might pass out.  My body still tingled from Brad's touch, and I had feelings I didn't quite understand, and couldn't remember ever having before.  He smiled at me again just as Mr. Wiley came into the room.  I couldn't help it but giggled softly.  Brad shook his head in approval as Mr. Wiley began to take the roll and to explain the next assignment.

I had more questions than I had answers, but I understood with a surprising clarity that I was starting on a new adventure.  I had a deep abiding sense about Brad and my friendship, knowing and hoping that it would grow.  As I wondered to myself what Brad saw in me, I was brought back to reality by Mr. Wiley's rather high pitched voice,

"Mr. Neilson, calling Mr. Neilson, are you there?" 

The class was laughing and I looked quickly at Brad and he was enjoying the levity, too.  I snapped forward quickly and responded,

"I'm here, Mr. Wiley, at least physically."  And I joined the laughter. 

Mr. Wiley was chuckling, "Glad to hear that, Jacob.  Was it a fun trip?"

I surprised myself when I said,

"One of the best, Mr. Wiley."  I looked directly at Brad and for some reason I winked.  Although a little startled by my action, he soon recovered and to my great pleasure, he smiled and winked back at me.  I almost died.

That was the longest class in the history of mankind.  I just wanted it to end so that I could talk with Brad again.  I wanted to be close to him, and I wanted very much to have him touch me.  The bell rang ending the class.  Brad and I walked into the corridor and I turned heading toward the gymnasium complex.

"Don't tell me you have phys. ed. last period, 'cause I do too."

"Yeah, I do.  I swim.  My dad just bought us a new home; it has a pool and I have my own suite of rooms: Jacuzzi, workout room, bedroom, amazing bathroom with a huge shower, and a study-sitting room."

"Cripes.  That sounds like an apartment." 

"The suite was built for the parents of the former owner.  Dad got the property for a steal.  You'll have to see it sometime." 

"Hey, I'd like that.  Almost sounds like a date," he said as we approached the locker room.  I choked a little, but was able to answer,

"Today we just get lockers assigned, right?  What are you doing for pays. ed.?"

"You won't believe this, Jake, me boy.  But I signed up for swimming.  My dad says it's a total body exercise and it will help me with my other sports' interests.  I'm not very good.  How about you?"

"I'm okay, I guess.  Been swimming most of my life.  My Mom started me young."

"You'll put me to shame."

"I doubt that, Brad.  You're like a total athlete.  Me, I just specialize in  swimming."

Brad started laughing as he asked, "Does it embarrass you to wear those tight little Speedos?"

"No, I never thought about it.  Maybe now that you mention it, I probably will get red faced."  I laughed and added,  "Bet you look better than I do in a Speedo."

Mr. Kimball's voice interrupted me,

"Guys, line up and I'll hand you your locker number and the combination.  Remember, you cannot add other combination locks.  The school reserves the right, as you already know, to check the contents of your locker at anytime.  Questions?  None, okay let's go.  When we finish here, we'll meet in the gym on the north side."

Brad and I were midway in the line and as we moved forward, he would occasionally jab me in the back.  I got  laughing, and was in a silly mood when we got to Mr. Kimball.  Suddenly he stopped, and shouted,

"Forgot to tell you, those of you who are taking swimming will share lockers." 

He looked at us, and smiled.  "Now let's see.  Bradley Mason and Jacob Neilson,  you two will share locker 5477 in the East Locker Section."
"Good ole alphabetical order, M for Mason and N for Neilson.  Well, that takes care of that.  No one else to have to deal with, Jake, 'cause we already know each other."

I shook my head slowly in the affirmative as we walked to the East Locker Section. 

'Wow', I thought, 'I couldn't have asked for anything better'.

"Sometimes alphabetical order can be unpleasant, especially if you get stuck with the wrong someone.  Lots of guys would have felt that way about me, Brad.  I mean, look, I'm no outstanding athlete."

Brad stopped short, turned and looked at me, "Did you say you had a workout room in your suite?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just thinking.  Maybe we can workout together and tone our bodies a little.  How does that sound?"

"It will take a hell of a lot of work to tone this body." 

As I finished, Mr. Kimball came up to me.

"So you're Jacob Neilson.  I see where you were a top notch swimmer at your former high school.  Some amazing times for a guy your age.  I hope you join the swim team.  Why did you take swimming?"

"Please, Mr. Kimball, I'm not that good a swimmer, really, I'm not.  I took swimming so that I could get some extra practice.  I want to get better, so the more time I spend in the pool the better."

"Do you have a pool at home?" he asked.

"Yes, and I plan to use it a great deal.  It's new to me.  My dad just purchased the place."

"That's great.  Glad to see you here Mason.  Swimming will help with your football.  You're fortunate to have Neilson as a locker mate.  I bet there are lots of things he could teach you.  Well, I gotta get to the gym."

Brad grabbed me in another head hold saying, "I just work at swimming.  Fuckadoodle!  You're a good swimmer and I hope you teach me everything you know.  I sure as hell hope I can teach you something.  Anything!  Let's get to the gym."

Coach Kimball made short order of the meeting in the gym.  He explained all the rules and regulations, discussed horseplay in the locker room, and generally had a question and answer session with all the guys.  He told us we could talk quietly until the bell rang.

Brad and I were sitting with a group of his friends, mostly from the football team, but there was one mean looking senior football player there, too.  Why he was in our phys. ed. class I didn't know.  Brad told me later he was making up a credit in phys. ed. he failed as a freshman.  He wasn't a pleasant guy, even his name suggested something about him. Herman Shanks took an immediate dislike to me.  He began immediately,

"So fag face, whatcha doing here?  Bet I know what you want and I can give it to ya, too."  I could see Brad bristle,

"Watch ya mouth, Shanks.  Don't be such an asshole."

"And whatcha goin' do about it, Mason?  I could break you in half.  You a fag, too?" 

Brad jumped to his feet as did Shanks.  I thought there was going to be a fight, but fortunately Coach Kimball was soon there.

"Calm down, guys.  Shanks, if I have any trouble with you in this class, you're out and then you can figure out how to make up that credit you need to graduate.  Do you understand?"



"Yes, coach.  I understand."

"Good, now let's keep it cool."

Almost at the same moment, the bell rang and everyone started to leave the gym.  Brad held me back a little to let Shanks get by us.  As he passed us, he whispered to us,  "You two fags are dead meat."

"Yeah, asshole, just look at me shake.  Get lost, fuck head," said an angry Brad. 

Shanks left and we were alone in the now almost empty gym.

"See," I told Brad, "you're already in trouble. It's because of me.  I told you I was a loser.  I don't think we should try to be friends.  I like you too much to cause you trouble."

Brad smiled at me, grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me just slightly, "I thought we had this all settled, remember?  You're going to let me select my own friends.  And, Jake, I want you as my friend, okay?" 

The touch of his hands on my shoulders started all those strange and wonderful feelings I got when he touched me.  I wanted to hug him, maybe even kiss him, but it was a fleeting thought.

"I'm sorry.  It's just that I don't want to start a problem." 

He grabbed my hand and helped me down from the bleachers.  As we walked  out of the gym, he smiled that smile at me again.

"For such a nice guy, you worry too much about everyone except yourself.  Well, we're going to change all that.  How're you getting home?" 

'I have to call Sadie.  She's our housekeeper, cook, and my surrogate Mom.  Anyway,  I can't get my car until October. I bet you already have your license, don't you?"

Brad stopped walking and turned to me.  His eyes sparkled, but he seemed uncomfortable.  "Wait, wait, just a minute.  What do you mean surrogate Mom?" 

I looked at my feet again, then looked directly into those beautiful green eyes,

"I mean," I said, "that she is like my Mom.  My Mom died a few years ago.  My dad hired Sadie to take care of the house and me.  She helped me get over my brother's death, and she's more like a friend;  I love her, Brad.  I love her a lot."

"Jake, shit, I'm sorry.  I fuck up all the time.  It was none of my business.  I don't know what to say." 

Now it was Brad who was looking at the ground and fidgeting.  I reached out and patted his arm,

"It's okay, Brad.  It happened a long time ago.  I have made my peace with it.  I still have dreams about my brother, Jason.  He was killed in a car accident in Germany.  He was so young."

Brad could see my eyes misting and he suddenly reached over and hugged me.  I almost fainted.  The feel of his body against mine was almost too much for me; it was sensuous overload.  I didn't try to pull away, but I think he discovered what he was doing, and let me go.  His face was red, and he quickly said,

"Sorry about that hug, Jake.  It's just that you looked so sad.  I wanted you to know that I was here to help, if I could.  Let's go to my car and I'll take you home if you want.  Or you can call Sadie if..."

"I want to go home with you," I blurted out. 

Nothing more was said as we walked together to Brad's bright red Ford Mustang.  It was a beauty.  He unlocked the door, and then opened it for me.  I slid onto the leather seat, pulled my legs in, and when he saw I was safely in the car, he closed the door, went around the car and got in the driver's side.  He sat silently for a moment, then turned and looked at me.  I was as nervous as a mouse hiding from a hungry cat.

"Jake, I really like you.  I mean, well..."

"I know what you mean, Brad.  And well, I really like you, too.  You make me feel so good when I'm with you.  I can't explain it more than that.  I've never had a real friend and I think I am a little mystified by it all.  I just know that I like it.  Wanna see my place?"

For an answer, he started the Mustang, and just before we could pull out, Shanks was standing before the car.  He pounded on the hood, and shouted,

"You two fuckers had better watch your backs.  I'll teach you who's boss.  Fags and queers have no place at Palm High School.  Don't forget that." 

Brad surprised me as he began to pull out directly into Shanks, whose startled look caused me to begin laughing.  Brad was laughing, too.

"That bastard had better watch out.  If he hurts or threatens you, Jake, I want you to tell me, 'cause somehow I'll take care of him.  And no arguments, okay?"

"Okay, but..."

"No buts, Jake.  No buts."

It was a short ride to the house.  It was a big place, a fact that was almost embarrassing.  The buildings sat on the Intracoastal Waterway.  The pool was on the waterway side of the house, and below that was the deep water dock where eventually there would be a boat.  My dad had changed in the last year since he met Diane.  She spent time with us at the new house.  I liked her, and although she stayed overnight often and I knew what was going on between them, I didn't care.  Dad had told me that he wasn't marrying again and I took him at his word. 

I had to buzz at the gate so Sadie could let us in.  Brad drove up the driveway and parked in front of the four-bay garage.  He laughed a little and I looked at him wearing my most curious look.

"What?" I asked.

"This, place.  It's quite a house.  I can't imagine what the inside looks like."

"Wanna find out?  Come on, let's go in."

We jumped out of the car and hurried into the house through the ell, which connected the main house to the garages.  We came into the kitchen to find Sadie removing chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

"Jacob, glad you're home." 

She looked at Brad, but before she could ask, I told her who he was.  I liked the sound of my new friend's name.

"Would you two like some warm cookies and cold milk?" asked Sadie.

We both replied in the affirmative and sat at the large island counter and filled ourselves with the cookies and milk.  When we finished, I told Sadie I wanted to show Brad my room.

"Some room," she added as we were leaving the kitchen, "it's more like a small house.  Don't mess it up.  Your clean clothes are on your bed.  You take care of them." 

Luckily we were too far away from her to hear any other orders.

My suite was built onto the corner of the main house.  The bedroom and sitting-study room had large walls of windows.  Brad wandered around the rooms, looking, but saying little.  The bathroom blew his mind, and I laughed when he asked me if I wore a Speedo in the Jacuzzi.

"No, and if you ever want to use the Jacuzzi with me, it's a naked-only place."  Brad blushed and then laughed.

"I could do that if it was just you and me." 

My heart was beating so rapidly that I thought again I might pass out.  I sat on the bed, looking at him, enjoying him.  Here he was in my room, this beautiful guy.  Six feet of young athlete whose well-toned body took my breath away.  And he was handsome, too.  His eyes and smile shook me up.  I wondered about what he would look like without his clothes.  Then I pushed that thought from my mind and wondered what was the matter with me.

"So what do you think of the place?" I asked.

Brad laughed and sat next to me.  "If someone brought in food, you could live here forever.  You got your computer, your music, your television, your X-box, everything guys like us need to entertain ourselves.  And there's the workout room, so we wouldn't get fat and lazy.  I could stay here for a long time.  Shit, I don't want that to sound like I'm inviting myself.  It's just that it's such a great place."

"I'm glad you like it.  And you can spend as much time as you want here.  The only thing is that I want to be here with you.  You're my friend now, Brad.  I really like you."

I wondered what Brad thought of me.  I was at least four inches shorter than he was.  I had curly blond hair and icy blue eyes.  I was light complexioned and had a slightly skinny build, kept that way by competitive swimming, and pounds lighter than he.  I looked like a freshman, not a senior.  I also knew my way of dressing was bad, but I hoped Brad would overlook that.  Dad told me to get any clothes I wanted and to charge it to the credit card he had given me.

"Jake, I start football practice Monday, so I can't get you home unless you want to watch practice and wait for me to take you home.  It will be fourish, instead of this time,  a couple of hours later.  I can understand if you want to come home.  I can call you when I get home, and maybe we can get together to study, or take in a movie, or whatever.

"I plan to join the swim team, Brad, so we'll probably be getting out of practice at about the same time.  I will have afternoon meets, though.  We can figure that out later." 

Brad looked at me with a serious expression on his face.  Then he smiled and said to me,

"Jake, I really want to take you shopping right now, if you want.  We can go up to the mall and get some new clothes for you.  I can pay for them and you can repay me."

"I'd like that.  But I have a credit card with a very high limit.  My dad is making loads of money in real estate, so I'm not hurting.  I don't wear the right clothes, huh?"

"Well, not exactly.  I'm glad I could see beyond your clothes, Jake, otherwise, I don't know what I would have thought.  That's probably why the other guys were kidding you at lunch today.  This was my lucky day, Jake, because I met you.  Let's get going."

"Go ahead, Brad, I'll be right there.  I have to take a leak.  You can chat with Sadie."

"Okay.  I want to make a phone call to my brother." and he was gone.


Brad found his way into the large living room with a wall-to-ceiling fireplace and a large wall of windows facing the waterway.  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, flipped it open, and speed dialed his brother.  The phone had rung three times and Brad was about to hang up when someone answered the phone.

"Hey, Chris and Peter's den of antiquity, Peter, the worse of the two, speaking." 

Brad was surprised at this, but he quickly said,

"Hi, Peter, this is Brad, Chris' brother.  Is he available?" 

Peter laughed. "Chris, it's your brother, Brad"  To me he added,

"He'll be witcha, just as soon as he gets his clothes back on.  Here he is."

"Hi Brad, just ignore Peter, he's a little daffy, and no booze or drugs do that to him, that's his natural behavior."

"Chris, who the hell is Peter?" I asked.

"You're a big boy now, Chris.  Peter is my lover.  We're a couple now.  We live together, and happily, too."

"Wow!  I'm so happy for you, Chris.  Could I talk to Peter for just a second?"

"Sure, Why?"

"He can tell you if he wants, but essentially this is between him and me."  I heard Chris call Peter to the phone.

"Yes, sir, this is Peter."

"Peter, just listen, no funny comments, okay?  If you ever hurt Chris, I will hunt you down like some varmint and I will beat the living shit out of you.  Got that?"

"I sure do."

"Sweet.  Welcome to our little family: Chris and me.  You can tell him later what I just said to you.  Maybe I'll see you at Thanksgiving.  We'll talk later.  Put Chris back on, okay?"

"Before I let you go, Brad, just listen.  I love your brother more than any person in my life.  I would never, never, hurt him intentionally.  And if I did, I would want you to beat the shit out of me, because I would want to die," Peter whispered to me.

I simply said,

"Peter, I like you a lot.  Let's be friends, okay?"  I heard him call to Chris to come back to the phone.

"Yeah, so little bro, whatcha call for?  Not like you to call on Friday as you usually have loads of things to do."

"Well, I have a question for you.  I can't ask mom or dad, not yet.  But I thought you might be able to help me."

"Brad, is something wrong?  Are you in trouble?" he asked his voice full of concern.

"No, nothing like that.  It's well, it's..."


"How do you know if you are falling in love with someone, or if you're already in love with them?"

"Hmm, what's her name, Brad?



"A boy?"


"Peter, get on the extension."

"Why are you doing that, Chris.  It's none of his business."

"Yes, Brad, it is.  Just listen for a minute or two, please."


"Peter, when did you know you were in love with me?"

"The day you walked into the dorm room.  Why?"

"I fell in love with Peter the same day.  When did I tell you I loved you, Peter?

"Three weeks later, 'cause I pulled you on top of me," he said laughing.

"And, Brad, I told Peter that same night.  It was the first night we slept together."

"What are you trying to tell me, Chris?  I don't think I really understand."

"Brad, you are gay, right?"


"How old is Jacob?'

"He's going to be 18 in October.  Why?"

"I just hoped he wasn't a kid."   Peter snorted.

"That's a terrible thing to think, Chris," I chided him.

"Sorry, accept my apologies?"



"Of course I accept your apologies, dufus."

"Dufus?  Guess he knows you pretty well," Peter said with a giggle.

I heard what sounded like a punch.

"Ow!  Your brother's hitting me, Brad.  Call him off." 

Everyone was laughing, and I finally got composed enough to ask,

"So are you saying that when I think I am falling in love that I should tell Jacob."

"Yup!" in unison from the two lovers.

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?"

"He'll tell you, Brad.  Don't be afraid to love.  It's the most wonderful thing, the feelings you get, the joy it brings to your life." 

I heard some muted sounds in the background and it dawned on me that Chris and Peter were kissing.

"Get a room!" I said.

"Fuck you, Brad.  This is our room, our apartment," laughed Peter.

"If anyone is getting fucked around here, Peter, it had better be me," laughed Chris.

"Guys, you're embarrassing me."

"Likely!" Peter said.

"Seriously, Brad, has Jacob given you any sense that he might be interested in you?"

"Well sort of.  He told me he liked me a lot.  He gazes at me and when I catch him and look at him, he smiles this cute little smile.  But I'm not sure what it means.  Oh, and he likes my eyes."

"I think he's sweet on you, bro.  So hug him or something and tell him how you feel.  You have everything to gain and nothing really to lose. If he's not interested, you're going to hurt for a bit, but, shit, you haven't done anything with him, right?"

"Right.  But I sure as hell have thought about what I'd like to do with him."


"Brad, I certainly don't want to sound like Dad..."

"If you sound like your father, I'm out the door, Chris," said Peter with a villainous laugh.

"Peter, shut the fuck up, will ya?  Now, Brad, like I was trying to say to you, I don't want to sound like dad, but be sure you know the difference between lust and love.  If all you want is sex, then find some guy who puts out.  There must be some.  They were there when I went to high school."

"Chris, I didn't mean that the way it sounded.  See, I like everything about him.  He's beautiful, and he's funny; he could charm the last dollar out of your pocket.  And he's smart, and he's always saying nice things to me.  He's a little shy, which I like.  And, Chris, he's a little sad."

"Why, what's the matter?"

"It's a long story, but he lost his mom a few years ago.  His father just ignores him on the emotional level.  His older brother was killed in Germany, and his one sister eloped and moved to California with a guy the family never met.  They have never heard from her since.  So, essentially he lives alone with his housekeeper who he told me was his surrogate mother.  He doesn't know how to dress for South Florida, he has no friends, and he is so cute I could eat him up."

"Well, Brad, my advice to you," interrupted Peter with a dirty laugh, " is to tell him you love him before you eat him."

"Peter Li you are a first class perv," shouted Chris.

"Okay, guys, I gotta go.  Chris, I want to talk some more to you about the holidays.  Jacob has a great idea.  And Peter, if you can get your tongue under control, then maybe you can be a part of this devious plan," I said with a giggle.

"Gotcha," Peter said,  "I'll leave you with your bro.  Good luck."

"Has any of this helped, Brad," asked a somewhat frustrated Chris.

"Yeah, actually it has.  And bro, don't be too hard on Peter; his humor helped.  I can't wait to meet your prince charming.  Thanks for being there for me.  Can you imagine what would happen if I told the 'rents?"

"Brad, promise me this one thing.  It's important, so listen carefully.  When you feel you need to tell them, call me first so I can come home.  I want to be there to support you.  Dad has to understand that we're not freaks and that when you love someone as much as I love Peter, it can't be wrong.  I think mom already understands it, but it's fuckin' dad who won't tell me he still loves me, even though I know he does."

"I won't forget.  Wish I were there, bro, so I could give you a huge hug and a kiss of thanks."

"Let me know what happens with you and Jacob.  Tell him you love him if you do.  Good luck.  Love ya. Bye."

Before I could say anything, the line went dead.  I sighed deeply, my mind a mess of different ideas that I might use to tell Jacob I had already fallen in love with him.  Life and love could be such a bitch.


As soon as Brad left, I did use the bathroom.  When I finished and had washed my hands and brushed my teeth, I went into the bedroom and got the charge card from the its hiding place in the top drawer of the dresser.  As I did that I thought about Brad, I felt so happy.  I knew he liked me a little and that made me even happier.  I hugged myself, and suddenly I started to jump around and dance and began in a singsong voice to say,

"He likes me, he likes me, he wants to be my friend.  I'm so happy."


I fell to the floor and crawled behind the side of the bed.  I was so embarrassed. I thought I might cry, but then I heard Brad's laughter and it was so addicting that I was soon laughing, too.

"Another thing I didn't know about you, Jake.  You can sing, and that dance was pretty explosive.  Thanks for being happy because I'm your friend."

 I peeked up over the side of the bed, and when Brad saw me, he began to jump, and twirl, and sing,

"He likes me, he likes me.  He wants to be my friend.  I'm so  happy." 

I got up and joined him, and soon we were dancing about the sitting room; finally he took me into his arms and we danced as a couple.  We stopped and looked at each other, not sure what to do next.  Brad pulled me closer to him and as I turned my head up and toward him, he lowered his face and our lips met for the briefest of moments.  We both pulled away from each other, embarrassed but thrilled.

"Sorry," he said, "that was stupid and uncalled for, Jake."


"I spoiled everything, didn't I?" he asked in a whisper.

"I liked it," I finally told him.  I walked to him, and without hesitation, I kissed him again on the lips.  I didn't wait for any more conversation, but said,

"Let's get me some clothes that won't embarrass you."

"You're a crackerjack, Jake.  A wonderful crackerjack!"

And we were off to the mall.


To be continued...

"The measure of love is to love without measure"

Feedback always welcome:

Thanks to my editor, Wayne, and to my readers, Peter and Rock.  Their help has added immeasurably to the story. Best of all, they are my friends.

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