Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2010 13:19:49 -0800 (PST) From: John Gerald Subject: Peter's Story 12 "I think hear someone coming in downstairs," Peter exclaimed as he looked up at Marty, who was straddling his body. They both had most of their clothes still on, but didn't plan on being that way for long "Hey you can hear pretty good!," Marty replied as he stared back down at him, "I could barely hear that!" Peter accepted the encouragement, but knew better than to credit it to his ears. "Well, I actually barely heard it, but I could feel the house vibrate from that big front door. The whole place shakes when you close it, especially in the Winter when everyone practically slams it shut to keep out the cold." "Well, I still think you heard more than I did," Marty replied, smiling and giving him a big wet kiss on his cheek.. "So, do you want to see who it is or does this stud want to have just a little more fun," he whispered directly into Peter's ear as he lowered his head again and gently kissed him on the lips before slowly, deliberately, methodically nibbling and licking his way down Peter's neck, tonguing every visible muscle on the lean, taut skin. Peter's body archest up. "Oh jeeze, Marty, I want it so friggin' bad. God, I've been going nuts doing my `healing,' as you call it," he pleaded, "But it's probably Robert and Bik and the crew and my bros will be pounding on the door in a flash if they think we're up here `doing it," he said with a laugh. Marty chuckled. "Yea, you're right, we should go there. But here's something to look forward to when we return," he said as he quickly bent down further and placed his mouth over Pete's right nipple, practically pulling it through his shirt. He could imagine Peter's eye's practically rolling to the back of his head as he continued to tease the hard nub, then abruptly pulled back. "Continued later," he said, grinning, as he jumped up off of the bed reached behind the door for his sweater. "Can't wait!" Peter replied as he pushed his foot into Marty's crotch. As they both got to the bottom of the stairs, Bik and Robert, along with their Dad, were coming in with the final pieces of luggage as Laura and Robert's wife Ronda were standing next to the photography wall removing their snow-covered boots. And the dogs were all over everyone, yapping and jumping and licking until Peter shouted out a loud, "Down!". While Marty stood at the bottom of the stairs, a little overwhelmed with all the people and commotion, Peter jumped into the fray and got the usual round of very physical Kovar greetings. Then his big moment came "Laura, Bik, Robert, this is Marty. Marty, this is...well, you know who they all are," he said to laughs all around. He stepped off the stairs and started greeting them all one-by-one. "I guess I should be careful," Marty said before returning Laura's hug, seeing how she was just starting to show her pregnancy. "Oh, I'm OK, at least right now," she replied, "but I don't think we should try it in 6 months." "Hey, bud!" Bik called out to him. Like when he first met Peter's dads, Marty was enveloped in another tight grip. Bik wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tight, almost picking the equally-sized Marty up off the ground, as he whispered in his ear, "I hear that he lets you call him Pete," and then gave him an unexpected a kiss on the cheek. "That name probably means more than you think," he added. Marty could only return a shy smile as he noted the family resemblance between Peter, Bik, Robert and their Dads, even though the sources of the genes were all mixed up. Different hair and different heights, but same facial features and, he could tell right away by all the loud voices talking at once, the same outgoing personalities. After Marty finished similar greetings with all the new arrivals, Peter pulled him close. He was worried that Marty might react from all the tight pressure of the hugs, but he seemed to come through it OK. Still, sensing a bit of anxiety, he gently wrapped his arm around Marty's waist before affectionately tugging on this belt. "OK?" he asked with his eyes. Marty returned a subtle nod to reassure him. "Where's your sister that we've heard so much about?" Laura asked, "Is she around?" "No, she's out with Todd, I think he took her out to do some Christmas shopping, or at least window shopping," Marty replied. None of them made any comments, even though they had all heard about the budding relationship with "Todd. No one wanted to embarrass Marty. And they didn't want to jinx it. "Well, I know that you all just got in, but you're probably hungry and dinner is about ready. So if you guys help them up with their stuff your Pop and I will go and finish dinner," his Dad said. "By the way, I'm not sure we have the ideal accommodations for everyone, but we'll manage. Peter and Marty are in the big room, Laura and Bik, you can take Gramma and Grandpa's apartment, what with 2 ½ of you," he joked, "and Robert and Ronda, you all can take Bik's old room, which is a little bigger than your old one, Robert. Is that OK with everyone? "Sure, we'll be fine. The apartment is kind of cool. We can share the bathroom if people need to," Bik replied. "No problem with us," Robert said. "Normally I'd assert my older brother's rights to the bigger room,, but we'll be leaving to see Ronda's family a couple days after Christmas, so I'll indulge you boys," Robert said. "Eternal gratitude, oh elder one!" Peter answered back as feigned a bow before his brother. *** After all of the tumult over his illness and recovery, Peter noticed that they were finally settling into a daily pattern that was much like the one they had at school. They had their own activities during the day, coming and going, doing whatever they needed or wanted to do, like shopping, going to the gym, helping out Peter's dads or whatever. But no matter what happened during the day, they were always together in the evenings. Peter thought it was cool that Marty was spending a lot of the cold winter mornings helping his Pop out in the garage woodshop. Not only did he like it that they seemed to get along, but it was always good to have someone in the wood shop with his Pop, in case he had a seizure or anything happened around the woodworking equipment. `He must be getting pretty good, too,' Peter thought, since after a few days his Pop was OK with him out there on his own. He wasn't protective about the space so much as always concerned about safety, so Marty must have really proved himself reliable. And Peter himself? Though he had a clean bill of health from the doctor, Marty still enforced naps after lunch, every day. Besides that, taking care of the dogs and reading, helping his Dad in the kitchen and sometimes accompanying Marty and his Dad or pop to the gym there were plenty of things to fill his day. *** Along with Peter's cousins and Aunt and Uncle, who always came for the Christmas Eve, the whole family had retired to the living room after dinner. It was a special time each year for all of them to be together and to enjoy the tree, food and each others company. Everyone usually contributed something unique to the desert `cart,' as his Dad called the large coffee table in the center of the room. And with Marty the Baker now around, there was and additional reason to look forward to it from Peter. Marty made what he called a `Coconut Christmas Cake,' which was a layer cake of coconut crème and white cake, with white chocolate chips mixed in and red and green sprinkles on top. He knew that Peter liked both chocolate and coconut, but wanted to give it a twist. The guys were seated on the floor between the `cart' and the big upholstered brown couch across from the tree, with Tony leaning into Marty, and Radar laying his head on Pete's lap. And in front of them was Marty's big cake. Pass me the some of that cake, will you? Bik called across the room to Peter. "It looks pretty good." "Sure, bro," he answered. "Hey Angela or whoever is behind me, will you pass this around the room to Bik over there," Peter said as he raised a piece over his head, along with plates and forks.. "And take some for yourself while you're at it." "OK, got it!" he heard Angela answer, as he saw her delicate hands take the cake, then a pair of much larger male hands, Todd's, take everything else. "By the way guess who made it?"Peter asked as he replaced the nearly empty platter back on the table. "Let me taste it first!" Bik replied. First, he poked into the frosting, which was very flat and had clearly been very carefully applied. Then, he loudly counted the number of alternating layers of coconut crème and white cake. "One...two...three..." "Just eat it!" Peter cried out. "Hey, I'm just checking the details before I dive in. I want the chef to know that I appreciate his, or her, attention to all the detail here," he said before continuing. "...Seven ...Eight...wow eight layers, each with some little white chocolate chips, too. All and all, very complex. And probably very rich. But we'll find that out now!" he announced as he raised the first piece to his mouth. He left it there for a few moments, studying and savoring, the different flavors." "Well?" Laura asked? "Yes, let's hear it!" Todd cut in from his seat on the other side of the room. He dove in for another piece before replying. "Well, I don't know who made it...it's not Dad's style, he's never made coconut before, at least that I know... so it's not him...But it's really good. Really really good!" Peter turned and put his arms around Marty's shoulder. "Here he is, the new Kovar family pastry chef!" he proclaimed with a huge amount of pride as he leaned over and kissed Marty on the cheek. Marty turned deep red, embarrassed at the attention, but at the same time pleased that he seemed to have made a good impression. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. I just like to bake, and kind of play around at it. Actually, your Dad gave me a hand and also had plenty of cake pans, so that made it a lot easier. I could get the sized that I wanted." "I'm glad to outsource that part of Christmas," his Dad joked, "the more people we have here, the more dinner there is to prepare, so the help is great." "But I'm not complaining!" he hastened to add as he raised his glass "The more people, the better!" Bik smiled, then turned and fed Laura a piece, who also gushed with enthusiasm. "Marty, you're welcome cater one of my baby showers, if you do that kind of thing!" she declared. "I'll consider that for a project,' he said, "maybe next summer," as he got up to pass plates of the other desserts around the room. "Hey Bik!" Robert called out as he took a huge chocolate chip cookie offered by Marty. "Are you all going to ever tell your kids some of the nasty stories about yourself?" As nonplussed as ever, Bik simply continued eating his cake, savoring the last morsels before he felt it necessary to answer his brother's provocation. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Robert." "Well, if you'd like me to introduce the real Bik to Marty and Angela, I'd be happy to do the honors, but..." Bik interrupted from his perch on the arm of Laura's overstuffed lounge chair. " I think I should tell this as, of course, as I was there, at least for the best parts," he said, an impish smile coming on his face," though most of it came from my Sandy, my lesbian spy at the girls slumber parties." "Are you sure?" Robert added. "We need this one raw, you know. No holding back." "Of course, nothing but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth[C. M.1]," Bik responded. "But wait one a minute before we start," he said before he got up and took his and Laura's and anyone else's empty plates into the kitchen before starting his story. It was one of his favorite tales of his high school exploits, so he used the time to figure out exactly how to tell it. As he stepped back into the room, he started. "Well, as Sandy tells it..." Nearly a dozen senior girls had gathered at the house of one of the football cheerleaders for a post-game sleepover. It was the middle of the season, the team was still undefeated, and it was a Friday night, so the girls were all in a great mood. Most of them were cheerleaders or their pals except for Sandy. She definitely wasn't one of the cheerleader types, but lived next door to the host, and got in with a sort of neighborhood special admission. One of the more amply endowed girls and another equally buxom classmate enjoyed talking about their conquests in the school, with the first one particularly proud of her claim that she could sleep with any guy she wanted. She seemed to always have ways of turning the conversation to sex or her liaisons. Carefully taking one potato chip at a time from the huge party bowl, she started her typical ten minutes of nibbling at its corner as she shouted out to the crowd, "Guess which one of our studs is no longer a virgin?" Though she had a reputation for braggadocio, it still got everyone's attention as the girls starting throwing out names. "Josh, right? Someone had to nail that hunky quarterback, sooner or later," one of them yelled. "Him," she laughed. "He's old new. Who hasn't had him?" There were about 150 guys in the senior class, but only a few that they all seemed to consider `prime cuts.' A few more names were called out, getting a continuous series of `No's' until one of them said, "Hey, what about the hottie Bik Kovar!" "Bingo!" she replied, pointing the only half-eaten potato chip at the winner. "I wasn't even sure he was straight," one girl said, "I mean he's the guy with the gay Dads, and of course, since he's so cute, he must be gay, right?" She asked, which got a roll of the eyes from Sandra. "Well, he may have thought he was gay, too. Until he ran into me!" the Queen Bee declared. The questions then came rapid fire, one after another. "How did you do it? Did you seduce him? Is his bod as hard as it looks?" "Well, if you must know she replied," putting down the potato chip rather than finishing it as she pulled her hair up, "I actually just took advantage of a situation," "I came out of the girls gym after practice a couple weeks ago and saw this guy, it turned out to be Bik, kind of sulking in the corner. It looked like he might be crying. Not that I give a shit if I hear some guy whimpering or boo-hooing about something. But I do know an opportunity when I see it." There were giggles from a few of the girls. The rest didn't quite know how to react but were still on the edge of their seats, wanting to hear more. "Anyway I went up to him with my best Mother Teresa manner and asked what was wrong. "He told me that he thought he might be gay, and was worried about it, especially since he had gay dads. He said, he had nothing against gays, and loved his dads, but he didn't want to be gay because of all the shit the saw that they had to go through, blah blah blah. "So what did you do?" "As I said, I was in my best Mother Teresa mode, so I just told him that I'd be there for him, all that crap, then I asked him how he knew if he was gay. Had he ever even touched a woman before?" "God, he looked like a scared rabbit. I didn't know such a simple question could get such a reaction. He said `Oh, gosh no. I couldn't do that, it's wrong, and all, and I'm not sure I'd even like it any way." "So I asked him if he'd like to feel my tits," she said. "How do you know if you don't like girls if you've never touched one before? "'Gosh, `I've never done that, you're sure it's allowed,' he said to me. Wow, he was so naïve!" "And he still looked like a deer in headlights, and asked, `are you sure?" she continued. "So I says `yes, you can do it. It's late, no ones around here right now, and, of course, `I won't tell" she said, to a few snickers and winks from around he room, though, surprisingly, a few of the girls suddenly became silent. "Well, I won't go into all the gory details here," she said, as she picked her potato chip back up, "but suffice to say that I think that he discovered that he likes girls instead of guys." A few were of the girls were still laughing, but a couple of others, the newly quiet ones, just gave here a blank stare. Noticing their restraint, she looked straight at one of them and said, "What, aren't you impressed? Or are you just jealous." "No, I'm not jealous!" the other girl replied, "but..." "But what?" the Queen replied in her most imperious manner. "He told me the same thing!" she said, indignation in her voice. "Bullshit" she replied, biting through the whole chip. "He did so! It was also outside of the girls gym. I had to finish off some paperwork one night and he was in the same place that you said he was." She looked at one of the other brooding girls. "And you? I you saw him in the same place" she asked, venom now dripping from her voice. The girl hung her head down, not be able to look any one in the eye, "Um...yea. And one of my girlfriends, she told me she saw him, like, he was crying out in the parking lot after the girls swim meet...that he wasn't sure if he was gay or not, same story, and that if he could just touch her breast that maybe he could figure it..." "Ha!" Robert cried out as Bik finished the story. "I remember that next day, you had that big red mark on your cheek! I think half the girls in the senior class slapped you!" Laura was bent over, her hands covering her face, "Every time I hear this story I wonder why I let him be the father of my child," she said, barely able to talk through her own laughter as Bik reached over to rub her shoulders. "That old Bik was a randy one, wasn't he?" he asked. "Old Bik?" she asked, looking up at him, then rubbing her stomach, as everyone laughed around the room. Marty's jaw was open. "I can't believe...I mean..." "Oh yea, it's true," Robert chimed in. "Our Dads, they weren't very happy when they heard, but our Grandpa, oh man, I never saw him laugh so hard. And our Grandma...I remember her saying, with here accent, "how stupid can someone be!" *** They began to exchange presents after finishing desert, as family tradition held. When the boys were small, there were lots of presents, including many colorful wooden toys, still around the house, made by their Pop in his woodshop. But as they got older, their dads made the present giving a smaller and smaller part of the evening as the food and family camaraderie element grew larger and larger. They did continue to exchange a few presents, however, and Peter in particular took advantage of it. Though Marty was always neatly dressed, Peter had realized that a lot of his things were getting old and threadbare, so he bought him two nice sweaters and two button down collar shirts. Marty leaned over to him after opening all the boxes and gave him a kiss. "Thank you!" he said, clearly touched by the gifts, thought it probably didn't matter whatever Peter got him. "Now open yours," Marty said, moving a large wrapped box from under the tree. "What could this be?" Peter asked, first straining to shake it, then tapping on it, then putting it up to his ear, acting as if he was turning up the volume on his hearing aid to ultra-high. "Open it already!" Bik cried out, to further demands from Robert and Todd as they all laughed. Todd even got up to help him move the box to a more open area at the side of the tree. "OK already!" Like Bik's cake, I just wanted to savor it!" he replied as he began to carefully unwrap it, fist taking off the paper then removing the makeshift cardboard box that hid the contents. As soon as Peter pulled down the sides he gasped. "Oh my God!" when did you do this? How?" he asked, the questions running one after another. It was a modern, custom-made wooden chair, a perfect match for the desk and aquarium holder that his Pop had made for his college room. Marty just smiled. "Your Pop is a good teacher, and has a lot of equipment and wood. After working in there a bit, I though it wouldn't be too complicated, if he could help me. Your chair at school is pretty good, but it's not a good match for the cabinet.. So, um...I thought you might like this. "He's a very faster learner," his Pop chimed in. "I only helped him a little bit, it's really all him." "Well, he helped me a lot, I have to admit," Marty said, "but it was your idea, and, frankly, you did all the heavy lifting. Once I explained the different ways that you could put it together, you were on you own. And it turned out great! Peter just stared at it and wiped his eye, trying to not look too emotional. "Thanks," he said, as he leaned over to Marty and gave him a return kisss. "Hey you know what?" he then asked, getting his enthusiasm back while trying at the same time to also mask his rapidly blinking eyes," I want our picture around this," "But how are we going to do that? Marty asked, "It's just a single seat." Peter thought for a moment and then said, "ah ha!" A few moments later, Radar was in the seat of the chair and Tony was in front, with Peter and Marty on either side of the chair, smiling at their Pop and his camera only a few feet away. "Smile!" Click! After most of his cousins and and his Aunt and Uncle had gone home, Todd had managed to linger for a few minutes longer, most of it spent with Angela. But his excuses began to run out, so he eventually began to slowly collect his jacket and muffler and make his way to the front door. Angela followed him, her hands folded in front of herself to prepare for the cold blast of air at the front door. She didn't put on another sweater and just looked like she was going to come back into the living room to join the rest of the Kovars after he left. But Peter was now seated in such a way as to be able to see them out the corner of his eye. Todd, who had on his jacket, hat and gloves, had just said a very polite but retrained goodbye. As he pulled open the heavy door, sending a `whoosh' sound through the vestibule, it appeared that Angela said something to him. Then he seemed to abruptly turn himself toward her even though he was already halfway out the door. In spite of all the conversation and noise around him, Peter strained to see what was happening between Todd and Angela. They both just stood there, looking at each other. Like neither knew what to do. Then he saw her hands go out to his. He came in from the half open door, and they continued to look at each other. With a noticeable lump forming in Todd's neck as he attempted to swallow, she got up on her tip-toes and gave him a kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. *** "Do you know how to put this in the DVD player, Pete?" Marty was baffled by the complicated control panel of the Kovar entertainment center and thought it looked like the instrument panel of a jet airplane. "Yup, just put it in that slot there and away we go!" Peter replied. After the long days of recuperation, Marty had finally allowed him to stay up late on Christmas night and he could hardly wait to take advantage of it. With a good movie on the DVR and Marty on the couch next to him, it was the perfect night. The room had a lot of glass along the walls, including a pair of French doors which led out to a patio. It was great for hot summer weather when he could throw open all the doors and windows, but it wasn't the warmest room in the house when things got cold, even with all the double pane glass that his Pop had installed. But Peter loved to watch movies on the big screen that dominated the room, so Marty brought down a blanket in case it got too cold. "Here's the popcorn that you ordered, gentlemen. Will there be anything else?" his Dad asked as he brought a bowl full of hot crunchy snacks into the room, placing it on the coffee table in front of the guys. "Oh, thanks, you didn't need to do that, Mr. Kovar. You've already done a ton of stuff for us today." Marty replied. "This was my idea," Peter piped in. "What's movie without Popcorn, plus I know he likes it, too, don't you dad?" "I've already taken my share," he replied with a laugh. "Anyway, enjoy yourselves; I'm going upstairs to join Pop in bed." "Oh, and by the way, do you want the dogs down here with you guys? Brad asked, as he noticed that the pooches had both curled up around the legs of Peter and Marty. "I could take them upstairs with me." "I don't think they'll cause trouble down there, do you," Marty asked as he looked down at them before stroking Radar's head. "Gluttons for attention," Peter added. "But they can stay, unless you'd like them with you all upstairs." "Nope, they're all yours. Well, good night, all." Brad said, turning down the light at he left the room. As the movie started, Peter snuggled under the blanket with Marty as the screen credits began to roll. "I like this," Peter said. "Like what?" "You here. Angela here. Everyone here. You know, after all, I think I have to admit that I don't care so much about the Christmas itself in particular. It's just having everyone around. I really like it." "Especially with Todd and Angela." Marty replied. "I'm the happiest guy in the world right now, he said, his finger rubbing Pete's hair. "Me too," Peter replied. "Though I think the Todd would put himself up there with us, too." *** When Brad got up to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed as Mike reached up and lightly rubbed his back through the cotton night shirt that Brad usually at night.. "They doing OK down there?" he asked. "I think so. It's a good place for them, big TV and all. I'm not sure if Marty will be able to stay awake with him, he might conk out before the movie is over. I hope he's prepared." "Gosh, yea. Peter can stay up practically all night. Even when he's sick, he still can't sleep. At least he got a nap today." Mike said. "I think that Marty even camped out in their room after lunch until Peter went to sleep, then he put the finishing touches on Peter's chair after he came down." "Peter will cover him up or something, I'm sure," Mike said sat up and moved closer to Brad, now massaging his back and shoulders with both hands. Brad barely moved as the stroking continued, it's ulterior motives clear with every stroke. He reached back, stroking Mike's hand has it continued to massage his wide shoulders. "Ahh... that feels soooo good!" Brad replied before he turned around in the bed to take Mike's face in his hands as he pressed his lean body back on the bed. *** Brad didn't know what time it was when he woke up until he glanced at the luminescent red numbers on the alarm clock next to his bed. `2:34 a.m.' it read. `Gosh, I thought it would be later,' he said to himself. He remembered going to sleep with his arms around Mike. They were no longer wrapped around each other, but Brad still had that typical feeling of Mike unconsciously pressing himself into his back as he slept soundly beside him. Remembering the guys downstairs, he decided to go down and check on them. Although Peter was usually still up, he would sometimes drift off and need to be covered up or even helped back upstairs. Glancing over at Mike to make sure he was still asleep, Brad slowly and carefully lifted the covers off himself as he quietly slid out of the bed. He was about to grab his robe off the door hook when he heard a stirring behind him. "Going downstairs?" he heard in a groggy voice. "Yea, pup. I'll be just a second. I just woke up so thought that I might go check on the guys. I guess I don't need to watch Peter anymore, but force of habit, I guess. Anyway, I'll be back in a second," he said as he reached over to the dim figure in the bed, stroking his head. "Get some more sleep, OK?" he asked. "OK, thanks..." Mike replied as he reached up and squeezed Brad's arm. Mike was almost asleep again when he heard Brad come back up the stairs. Expecting the door to their room to open at any moment, he sat up pulled the covers over for him. But Brad didn't come back in. Instead, Mike heard the door of the linen closet open and close, and then heard the slight creak of the stairs again as Brad appeared to be headed back down. He thought it was a little odd, now knowing why Brad had done this quick and-and-down, but he didn't sound rushed or panicked or anything like that. So Mike just laid back down, returned the cover to Brad's side to maintain the warmth of the bed, and waited for his return. A few minutes later, he heard the same footsteps but this time he also got the expected click of their bedroom door. "Hey," Mike said, still groggy. "Everything OK? I heard you come up and then go back down." Brad came over and sat on the edge of the bed, but instead of immediately crawling back in, he sat motionless, his hands folded in front of him. "Everything OK," Mike asked again, now sitting up himself, thinking that perhaps something in fact was wrong. Brad quickly reached back to reassure him, not saying anything but gently pressing him back into his sleeping position. "Yes, it's all fine. No problems, none at all." "What did you get out of the linen closet?" Brad smiled to himself for a moment, then turned back around and stroked Mike's hair before he answered. "I got a blanket," he replied." "For Marty?" "Yes," he answered. But not how I expected." "What do you mean?" Brad let out a breath of air, sighing, but not in a despairing way. "When I got down there, I could see that the TV was off, and thought I'd find the guys awake. Or at least Peter, maybe talking, or, maybe...um fooling around," he said, laughing quietly. "But it wasn't any of those things." "What was it?" Shaking his head, he answered. "When I got to the back of the couch I could see Peter's head on Marty's shoulder, but Marty was the one still awake. The blanket that I left them was wrapped completely around Peter; Marty had nothing but his clothes on and his arm around him. "I asked Marty, `What happened?'" "He said that Peter had fallen asleep within 15 minutes of the movie starting. He didn't seem surprised, but I was shocked! Peter never used to get to sleep this fast, and now he just conks out!" "What happened with the blanket? I thought they'd share it?" "So did I. But Marty was worried that Peter might get cold, so after he fell asleep he must have given it all to him. He even had his feet covered, God knows how seeing as he didn't move around enough to wake him up." "And you came back up to get Marty his own blanket, right?" "Yea, he was snuggled close to Peter, the old Boy Scout lesson of conserving body heat by sharing warmth. But he was giving it all to Peter and not keeping any for himself. I could tell the way that he had his body that he was cold and all, but he didn't want to move off the couch for fear of waking him up." "So that's when I came up here and got a blanket for him, and wrapped him up as best I could." In spite of Brad's intentions for him to go back to sleep, Mike now sat up in bed and moved next to him. He leaned his head on Brad's shoulder and in the soft light from the clock radio he drew a deep breath himself, inhaling the familiar smell of his partner of these many years. "You know," Brad said, "everyone thinks Peter is such a `golden boy.' They say he's so good-looking, has a great personality, all that stuff. But they don't have any idea how hard this kid has had it, what he's had to go through, and what he still has ahead of him." Mike could feel the tension in the shoulders as he began to massage them. "What makes you think about this now," he asked. In spite of his own tiredness, he put as much power as he could into his fingers as they moved into to the creases of Brad's muscles. Reaching back to feel his hand once again, Brad gave out another sigh. "I was always worried that he might not find a guy, or the right guy. Someone who just accepts Peter for who he is. "But he has. And I never thought I'd say this, but I don't think we have to worry about him anymore."