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Watching Brad

:-) Anothr great chapter, Neil. Everything seems to have already been said, but I will repeat the fact that I am thoroughly enjoying the story of Brad and Ted and family and can't wait for Friday's episode. Vic:kiss: :kiss: :=D:
 
Neil, you are tugging our heartstrings again !!!
Yet another cliffhanger .... will Warren recover ????
Will what Ted said to him do the trick ???
You naughty guy, you enjoy doing this to us, don't you ?
Great chapter, Thank you
Peace & Love
Harry
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 123​

At Ouma's request, the twins woke us up, climbing onto the bed for their ‘good morning' kisses and hugs. It was always a nice way to wake up, seeing those happy, smiling faces. Their energy wasn't quite as welcome, though. They were full of it so early in the morning, but I had to gather everything I had just to get out of bed.

Still, I enjoyed the first kisses of the day from them, and I got a kick out of the way they sat on our chests, put their hands on our cheeks, and turned our faces toward each other so Brad and I could give each other a kiss as well.

"Tell Brad you love him, Daddy," Justin said.

I smiled at his request, but obliged him. I looked at Brad's handsome, young face and said, "I love you, Tiger."

"Now you, Brad," Jeremy said.

Brad smiled back at me. "I love you, too, Pops."

"Now, us!" Justin said.

Brad winked at me and I winked back, then we turned our heads to the boys, grabbed them in our arms, and started tickling the living daylights out of them. Their squeals of delight blocked out any sad thoughts I might have had that morning. Laughing children are the best pick-me-up I know.

We sent the boys off to the kitchen so we could get dressed, telling them to close the door on their way out, but we delayed getting dressed for a few minutes. We spent that precious time snuggling and smooching. It was nice to wake up beside Brad again. It was nice to touch him when I wanted, to kiss him when I wanted, to look at him when I wanted. Perhaps it was my preoccupation with Warren, but I gave no consideration to being thought of as a Sugar Daddy. I would have fallen in love with Brad whatever age he was.

We lay there together, kissing and hugging. I was enjoying the feel of his body pressed against me, his strength and his heat. My arms were wrapped around him, holding him close, my fingertips softly caressing the smooth, warm skin. Between us, his cock lay like a yule log, strong and hard, yet soft and sensuous. I could feel it swelling and relaxing against me. I was excited, too, but not to the extent that Brad was.

My hands slid down his back, floating tenderly over the solid cheeks of his ass and cupping each one, my fingers digging into the valley between them. I pulled him to me, feeling his cock slide against me, then relaxed and pulled him again, setting up a rhythm. This lasted only a few strokes before Brad pulled his mouth away from mine and gasped, "Stop, Ted," he said. "I'm going to cum if you don't."

"Then cum for me," I said.

"What about you?" he asked. "Do we have time?"

"Forget about me this one time. How close are you?"

"I'm right on the edge."

"Then do it, Brad," I urged him. "Let me watch you cum. Jerk off for me and make yourself cum for me." I rolled away from him and pulled my arms free, sitting up after I had done so.

Brad sat up as well, pushing the sheets down and off his waist. His magnificent cock stood tall and proud and he wrapped his hand around it as my own hand moved to his thighs and gently cradled his balls in my palm. His arm took up a very familiar and well-practiced motion, his hand sliding up and down his shaft with the ease and grace of a well-oiled piston.

Moments later, his stroking increased in velocity and intensity and I could tell by his face and the quiet moans escaping his lips that Brad was very close. Large globs of precum formed at the tip of his cock and I watched intently as it gathered and began to flow down the smooth head. I leaned forward and licked it away with my tongue. Brad groaned, and I believe he thought I was going to take his cockhead into my mouth, but I had another idea. I sat back, moved my left hand to his head, and pushed him forward. His lips moved closer to his cock, and then they touched. They divided and spread over his cockhead, his jaws opening to allow the meat to enter his mouth.

I pushed harder and his cockhead disappeared into Brad's mouth, his lips finally locking themselves behind the ridge as I maneuvered myself onto my knees beside him. Brad groaned as I began moving his mouth up and down. His cheeks caved in as he sucked himself, noisy, slurping sounds joining our panting breath and gentle grunts. And then he suddenly clenched his eyes shut and I knew he was cumming. I could see him swallow twice as his cream poured out of his body and into his mouth, but then he stopped swallowing and opened his mouth wider. His cum began to flow down his cock and I quickly moved in to lick it up. My tongue moved up his shaft, closer and closer, until my cheek pressed against Brad's nose. Brad moved his face away from his cock and my own mouth quickly moved in to replace it, encompassing the spurting head between my lips and catching the remainder of his orgasm.

I held Brad's cock in my mouth until he began to go limp once more, then moved up to join his lips with mine and we shared his cream between us.

* * * * *

The twins forewent their usual bowl of cereal for a taste of the Full English Breakfast which Mom prepared for us, and it was delicious as usual. It was Terry's first adventure with one and the amount of food surprised her, especially when she had helped to cook it under Mom's tutelage.

"I don't even cook this much food for Thanksgiving dinner," she joked. But she went back for seconds.

Bill phoned again at eight o'clock.

"I almost phoned you at about two o'clock in the morning, Ted," Bill explained. "Warren had a bit of an incident. His heart started racing and his EEG started going whacko. Scared the hell out of me what with all the bells and whistles going off and the nurses running around helter-skelter. By the time the doctor got there, though, everything was settled back to normal again. The doctor figured that Warren began to come out of his coma and realized it was too soon and went back in again."

"You should have phoned me, Bill," I told him.

"There wasn't anything you could have done, Ted, except to lie awake the rest of the night. Warren is resting comfortably again. The doctor examined him carefully and nothing seems to have been damaged by it. No sutures were torn or anything. The doctor was encouraged by it, actually. At least Warren is fighting to stay alive, and it appears that is coma isn't going to last very long. That's a good sign."

"I still wish you had called me."

"I apologize, Ted," Bill said. "I didn't think it was anything that couldn't wait until this morning."

"Just call me next time, would you?"

"Okay, I will," he told me.

I told Bill that we might come up to see him tonight after the move, but we would wait until he phoned us this evening before making a final decision. Either way, we would most definitely be up to see him on Sunday morning.

Jamie and Mark were dropped off by their father only moments after Nathan and Barry arrived. It would be a cool day for moving. The forecast high was only in the mid teens. At this time of year, it should have been in the mid twenties. As it was, at that time of the morning, the temperature was still in the single digits. Jackets were definitely a necessity that day, and I stuffed two pairs of mittens in my jacket pockets for the boys - just in case.

Mom and Dad had already packed their suitcases and had gathered everything together near the railing of the stairway. Brad busied himself dismantling the small kitchen table we had brought from Crystal Beach as we began loading the chairs and other things into the back of my van and into the trunks of Barry's and Dad's cars.

By ten o'clock, everything was loaded. Bernice and John came by with Lindsay to bid farewell to their friends and to wish them well in their new home. Of course, Bernice brought with her a house-warming cake all neatly sliced and ready to eat. Lindsay carried a small bag with paper plates and plastic forks for the treats. At least the movers would be fed.

Mom and Bernice hugged each other and Dad and John shook hands. There were even a few tears in Mom's eyes which I found peculiar. I mean, it was only a fifteen minute drive to the new house, and John, Bernice, and Lindsay would be there in a few hours with Mom's grocery shopping and they would be sitting down to cake and tea with the rest of us. Believe me, Mom would have tea made. She had personally packed everything she would need in a carry-on bag and it would ride in her lap all the way to the new house and go directly into the kitchen.

With everything packed into the vehicles, Brad and I loaded the twins into their car seats and climbed into the van. Mark had wanted to come with us but, with the back bench seat lowered and full, he decided to ride with Mom and Dad. He got along well with them and felt quite comfortable with Mom. Terry rode with them as well. Jamie rode along with Barry and Nathan. Our little convoy pulled out of my driveway and Dad led the way to the new house. Barry followed him and we followed Barry.

The first thing we did after we arrived was to go on a quick tour of the new house. The downstairs was pretty-much what I had suspected since Mom had described it and talked about it often enough, but the upstairs was something of a mystery to us. They had kept this part secret from us. The twins were anxious to see what would be their room when they slept there. As soon as we gave them a chance, they tore off upstairs leaving us to follow behind.

As I suspected, the twins' room was a pale, textured blue which very-much looked like faded denim jeans. I stepped close to the wall and ran my fingertips over the surface. It was, indeed, paint, and had a textured feel to it.

"It was an interesting process to witness," Dad said. "The undercoat is dark blue. Once dry, they applied the pale blue paint mixed with a glaze to prevent the paint from drying too quickly and used what I can only describe as a large comb to run across the paint horizontally and then vertically. The result is as you see it."

"That is so cool!" Brad said as he joined me to touch the wall.

The twins didn't seem to care one way or the other. They were too busy laughing and chasing each other around their new, blue-carpeted room.

Lindsay's room was a nice, pale pink colour with a darker shade of pink carpeting. "Dusty rose," Mom told us.

"Lindsay will love it," I said. "Pink is her favourite colour."

"As well we know," Dad said with a proud smile.

The other two bedrooms were generic beige, but I was certain Mom would having them looking amazingly wonderful before she was finished decorating them.

Back downstairs, Mom began tea preparations as the rest of us began unloading the vehicles. Even the twins helped, carrying the little things they could manage on their own. With the cars and van empty, Dad opened the PODS and we began unloading that. Dad stood inside the door, directing each item and box which came into the house to it's appropriate room.

Within a few hours, the PODS was empty, by which time the Hayes had arrived with Lindsay and the groceries. Mark and Jamie carried them inside. The boys immediately took Lindsay by the hands and took her upstairs to show her her new room. I followed them upstairs while Brad helped his father and my Dad assemble the bed in the master bedroom downstairs. Nathan and Barry helped Mom move some of the heavier furniture into position in the livingroom.

Lindsay stopped inside the door and looked around. "Oh, Daddy," she said, her words soft and breathy. "It's so beautiful."

Thanks to Bernice, Terry, and Mark, we were served a rather late lunch of sandwiches and salads along with an assortment of cheese and pickles, all washed down with tea, coffee, or soft drinks for the kids. Of course, we had Bernice's home-made house-warming cake for dessert.

Somehow, the twins managed to stay awake until the moment we put them into their car seats. They were sound asleep before we even had them buckled in. Mom and Dad hugged me and thanked me for my generosity in opening my house to them.

"I am certain we did our share in adding to your anxiety, my Sonskyn," Dad said. "We are now out of your hair and you can now go back to getting your life and family back together again."

John, Bernice, and Lindsay remained behind, as did Terry, but Nathan and Barry left when we did, taking Jamie and Mark with them. Nathan wanted to stop by our house after they dropped the brothers off at home, but Barry talked him out of it.

"I suspect they could use the break from a houseful of people," Barry explained.

"At least I could cook them a good dinner tonight," Nathan said.

"Whatever they cook, I'm sure it will be good." Barry looked at me then. "Call us if you need anything."

"I will," I told him. "Thanks for all your help." I hugged him, then Nathan, Jamie, and Mark, thanking them for their help as well. It was a nice, quiet ride home, and Brad held my hand the whole way.

We carried the twins into the house. They roused for only a few moments as we pulled off their shoes and jackets, but they were asleep again before their heads hit the pillow.

"Want some tea?" Brad asked as we walked back out to the livingroom.

I shook my head. "No," I said. "I really want a coffee."

"You've already had two today," he reminded me.

"Brad, look," I said. He stopped and I held out my hands, palms down and fingers splayed. They didn't even quiver. "I've been good and I've cut way back, but I really need a coffee right now."

Brad smiled, took my hands in his and squeezed them, then kissed me. "I'll make it. You have a seat."

As he disappeared into the kitchen, I turned on the stereo, flopped down on the sofa, kicked off my shoes, and propped my feet up on the coffee table. My house was mine again. Just me and my family, and Brad was once again a part of it.

He came in soon afterward with freshly-brewed coffee for both of us, kicked off his own shoes, and curled up beside me. We sat there for awhile, holding and hugging each other and enjoying being alone together. "Gee-sus, Murphy, Brad," I said, "you smell good."

"I stink after all that moving," he replied with a chuckle.

"Like I said, you smell good. Feel my crotch if you don't believe me."

He did, cupping his hand over my swollen cock. A huge smile split his face and his eyes sparkled in the late-afternoon light. "Do you have any idea how happy that makes me? Knowing that I turn you on again?"

My own hand moved to Brad's crotch, finding his cock swelling as well. "I have a pretty good idea, Tiger."

We kissed and groped each other until Brad pulled both his hands and his lips away from me, stood up, took me by the hand, and led me to the bedroom, leaving our coffee untouched. He closed the door behind us, guided me toward the bed, and promptly undid my jeans, pushing both them and my underwear carefully down to my thighs. "I owe you this one," he said with a grin.

With his urging, I sat on the side of the bed and lay back. I was concerned that the twins might wake up and come barging in on us, but I was too excited to pass up the moment. I wanted a blowjob and I wanted Brad to give it to me.

He did, and very adequately. He reached beneath me, grasping the cheeks of my ass in his hands, and sinking his mouth right to the base of my cock. This was right for me. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed.

I lasted much longer than he had that morning. Still, within fifteen minutes of Brad's talents, I was cumming inside him and enjoying each and every moment. For those fifteen minutes, everything else had disappeared. All my troubles, all my worries, all gone. There was nothing else in the world except Brad.

He kept me in his mouth until I went completely soft. Only then did he release me and move up to lay on me and kiss me. His cock, solid and free from his jeans, pressed against my stomach. When he finished the kiss, he raised his head, looking down at me and grinning widely.

"Thank you, Tiger," I said.

"You're very welcome, Pops," he replied.

"Now, stand up and let me take care of you."

His grin disappeared. "I already came today. Now we're even. Our deal, remember?"

"That was your deal, Brad," I told him. "I'm cancelling it. I never liked it. If I have to accept that you're younger than I am, you have to accept that you can cum more often than I can. There's no more keeping score."

Brad slid off me and onto his knees between my legs as I sat up. "I want this to be an equal relationship, Ted," he said.

"Do you think I don't enjoy taking care of you? Do you think I don't enjoy making you cum? Every time I make you cum, I have my own little orgasm. I may not cum, but it's no-less exciting to me. Now, shut the fuck up, stand up, and let me make you cum again."

Brad stared at me until he was certain that I was serious, then he smiled and stood up for me.

* * * * *

We had a simple dinner that night. Leftovers. The twins didn't seem to mind. Leftovers were just as good the second time around. After dinner, Brad and I cleaned up the kitchen and the table as the boys put the dishes into the dishwasher.

We sat together on the sofa afterward, watching cartoons on television and having cookies and milk for the kids and fresh coffee for both Brad and myself. Justin, of course, sat in my lap and Jeremy sat in Brad's. "How would you guys like to have a bath with Brad and me in our bathtub tonight?"

Justin's head spun around, his eyes wide with excitement. "Really, Daddy?"

"Sure," I said with a smile. "Why not?"

"Do you think that's wise?" Brad asked. "I mean, do you think it's proper?"

"The judge decided it was proper," I reminded him. "I want to have a bubble bath with my sons and I want you to join us."

"But what if. . . ?"

Brad didn't need to finish his question. I knew what he was asking. I simply smiled and said, "Then they'll get a little lesson in growing up. Besides, I want you to become more involved in this family. You're as much a part of it as we are." I could see Brad was still hesitant. "Come on, it will be a blast. You haven't lived until you've shared a Mr. Bubble bath with these boys."

Despite his reservations, Brad shared the bath with us. The only incident occurred when we undressed. The twins looked first at me, then at Brad, then put their hands on their bellies and looked down at themselves. "Will we get big like you and Brad, Daddy?" Justin asked.

"In a few years," I replied, "yes, you will."

And that, as they say, was that. Nothing more was said.

Brad and I got in first, sitting at opposite ends of the tub and facing each other. We lifted the twins into the tub and set them between us. They sat facing each other, their backs against the sides of the tub. I allowed them some latitude that night, being that it was their first bath with the two of us, and we all got into bubble fight. All four of us were laughing and giggling and blowing handfuls of bubbles at each other and smushing them on each other's head and face. As I'd thought, Brad had a blast and his fears of getting an erection were for naught.

The bubble fight ended with Justin crawling between my legs and giving me a huge hug and a Mr. Bubble kiss before sitting on my leg so we could finally get down to having a proper bath. Jeremy, of course, did the same with Brad.

As the tub drained, I dried Justin and Brad dried Jeremy, then, as they pulled on their pyjamas, Brad and I dried ourselves and pulled on our bathrobes. "You take the boys and watch TV," Brad suggested. "I'll mop this up."

"I can help," I said.

He kissed me quickly and said, "Not this time. My way of saying ‘thank you' for including me. You were right. I had a blast."

I looked down at the boys who were trying to button up their pyjama tops. "They did, too." As Brad began the clean-up, I knelt down and helped the twins button their nightwear, then sent them off to pick out a DVD to watch. I popped up a couple of microwave bags of popcorn, poured them into two bowls, and joined the twins on the livingroom sofa. Brad joined us soon after and the twins climbed into our laps and settled in to watch Pinocchio.

* * * * *

I was sitting on the stone wall out back, looking up into the night sky. Even the city lights couldn't wash away the thousands of stars I could see. The moon lay low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the grass. Footsteps approached me and I looked toward the house to see Warren walking toward me. He sat down beside me, wrapping his right arm around my left arm and cuddling into me, laying his cheek against my shoulder.

"I'm scared, Teddy," he said quietly.

"I know, Warren," I told him. "So am I."

He squeezed my arm and shifted even closer to me. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die, Warren."

"I had a dream that I'm going to."

I turned my upper body toward him so I could look at him. His head lifted from my shoulder and his eyes met mine. "That was my dream, Warren. That's the one I had when I started going nutso. You had the same dream, but it was mine, not yours. You're not going to die."

"I hope you're right, Teddy," he said as he settled against my shoulder again. "We should build a fort like the one we built when we were kids. I liked that fort. I felt safe there. I had fun there."

"The damned thing fell on our heads three times and it rained harder inside than it did outside."

"But we built it, Teddy. It was ours. No-one else knew about it. When we were there, it was just you and me. I was so happy then. I want to be happy like that again before I die."

"When you're better, we'll build a fort for the kids."

"Maybe a tree house?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure. We'll plant a tree and build a tree house. Whatever you want, Warren. Whatever you want."

Warren sighed and rubbed his cheek against my shirt, his hair tickling my neck. "I want to live, Teddy."

"You will, Warren," I said. "I promise."

Warren lifted his head once more. His fingers found my chin and he turned my face toward his. "I hope so, Teddy," he said quietly. And then he kissed me. It wasn't a friendly kiss. It was a real, passionate, lovers' kiss.

"Ted," Brad said urgently. "Telephone." I became semi-aware of the telephone ringing. "Ted!" he repeated, shaking my shoulder this time.

My eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake. I rolled to my side, turned on the bedside light, and grabbed up the telephone. The alarm clock told me it was eight minutes before two in the morning. It could be only one person.

"Bill?" I said quickly. "What's wrong? What happened."

"Nothing serious," Bill was quick to reply. "Warren has developed a fever, that's all."

"We'll be there as soon as we can get someone to watch the twins," I told him.

"They won't let you in, Ted," Bill said. "They won't even let me in now. He's been moved back down to Intensive Care until they can get his fever down."

"What caused it?"

"Who knows. Something he picked up from the operation or a bug from any of us who were in the room with him. Look, maybe I shouldn't have called you."

"I'm glad you did, Bill," I said. "We'll come up to TO in the morning to stay with you."

"Stay with your family, Ted. They need you more than I do. I'll call you in the morning, and I'll let you know as soon as I have any news."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "We don't mind coming up tonight."

"Stay home," he replied. "I'll be fine, and I'm not really in the mood for company anyway."

I knew Bill was using that as an excuse, but I didn't press him on it. "Okay," I said instead. "Call me at eight?"

"Will do."

Needless to say, I wasn't in the mood for falling back asleep, nor was I in the mood to talk. We turned on the television, found some movie to watch, then cuddled up together and worried. Brad fell asleep in my arms an hour or so later. I fell asleep again soon after. We slept until the twins woke us up in the morning.

We went through the motions of our morning routine, making breakfast for the boys and trying to eat our own breakfast with a modicum of enthusiasm. Brad and I ate at the kitchen table. The twins ate at the coffee table as they watched Sunday morning cartoons.

Bill phoned promptly at eight o'clock. He had no news for us except he hadn't been allowed to see Warren yet and that the doctors had not been able to lower Warren's fever yet. Warren was now listed as ‘critical' and remained in Intensive Care. He didn't know, nor could he tell me, anything more than that.

I promised to stay near the telephone and Bill promised to call as soon as he had any news. He had, again, refused my offer to go to Toronto to be with him.

Brad was invaluable to me that morning. After I hung up from talking to Bill, I relayed the conversation, then excused myself and went to the bedroom before I started to cry in front of the twins. I closed the door behind me and fell face-down onto my pillow, surprised that I didn't cry after all. I lay there for a long time, worrying and thinking. I had never in my entire life felt so helpless. I felt that I should be there for Warren, but, even being there, I couldn't be with him. Bill was right. I needed to be here, to do the one thing that I could do, and that was to take care of my family.

I forced myself out of bed and went in search of them. I found them in the den in the basement, playing with the race car set. I had put on my best ‘happy' face, but Justin saw through it and handed his control paddle to Brad and came to join me on the sofa. He curled up in my lap, resting his cheek against me chest as we sat and watched the cars go around the track.

Jeremy tired of playing with the cars and he and Brad switched to playing with the train. Still, Justin sat with me, refusing to abandon me when he felt I needed him. At noon, he came with me to the kitchen and helped me prepare lunch. Nothing special. Nothing elaborate. Peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches with Kraft Dinner on the side. The twins enjoyed it, but I don't think I even tasted it. It was very quiet at the lunch table that day.

We were sitting on the sofa together, watching television, when the phone rang a few minutes past three o'clock. I grabbed it up.

"Hello!" I said anxiously.

"Hi, Ted. It's Bill. Warren's fever broke, but you'd better get to Toronto, fast."

"Bill!?"

"Please, Ted," Bill answered. "Drive carefully, but hurry."

And then he hung up.

"Bill!" I shouted into the phone. "Bill!!" I slammed down the phone. "Damn!" I said loudly.

I stood up, holding Justin in one arm, and reached for Jeremy with the other. "Call your Mom," I said to Brad. "Tell her we're bringing the twins over. I'll get them changed."

I quickly carried the twins into the bedroom where I began to change their socks and to put on their shoes. Brad showed up at the doorway.

"Forget the shoes, Ted," Brad said. "They're all coming over here. Mom will stay until we get back."

"Can we go with you, Daddy?" Justin asked as I pulled his shoes off his feet.

"Not this time, Son," I said. "Your Uncle Warren is very sick and Brad and I have to go be with him."

"Is he going to get dead like our other Daddy?" Jeremy asked.

"I hope not, Jeremy," I replied.

I hugged and kissed both of them as Brad arrived with our shoes and jackets. We were putting them on when Lindsay came home with Bernice and John in tow.

Less than fifteen minutes later, we were on the Four-Oh-One heading west toward Toronto.

To Be Continued
 
Neil: As others have said that chapter was great. Can hardly wait for Monday. Keep writing. Vic.
 
Great writing Neil .... Thank you
It's wonderful that Justin comforted Ted in his own way .... real family
I hope Ted's dream message got through to Warren & helps him.
Peace & Love
Harry
 
Why isn't it Freakin' Monday, yet??? :grrr:

I don't know if I can handle this, Neil! But ... lookin' forward to it!! ..|:=D:(group)

Keep smilin'!! (Got to, now!) :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz ;)
 
Oy, my noives, my noives, my Jewish gay noives!!!..I don't think I can take much more of this!!...Neil, dollink, you really need to stop with the cliff-hangers already...I have a heart condition!!!!

Love,
Chad


P.S.: Now that all my fingernails are gone, I've had to resort to biting my toenails...which isn't easily for moi, 'cause I'm not as limber as I used to be...LOL!!!
 
Hi Neil. Long time, no post. As usual, you have pulled just about every emotion you could out of me. Your writing talent just keeps getting better and better. I'm patiently waiting for you to post the next chapter. You better have some good news for us! (*8*)
 
First post, yay! i absolutely love this story, i've been reading it for the past couple weeks trying to catch up and now that i finally have i wanted to say you're doing an INCREDIBLE job with this story and to keep it up, i'll definetly be keeping up with it. i just have one question though, what happened to Cali and Mags, will they be coming up in the storyline again? You're amazing!!!
 
First post, yay! (snip) i just have one question though, what happened to Cali and Mags, will they be coming up in the storyline again?

If you had read all the comments between the chapters, you would know that I took Cali and Mags where I shouldn't have taken them. (I.E. naked in the hot tub.) That decision on my part was not a popular one, so I more or less phased them out of the story and replaced them with Nathan and Barry. It is doubtful that they will make another appearance in this story.

By the way, thank you for honouring me with your first post, and I'm glad you enjoyed all 123 chapters. ;)
 
WATCHING BRAD
Part 124​

Warren had been moved to a different room in the same wing when he was brought out of Intensive Care, but we found him easily enough when we saw Bill waiting for us outside the closed door.

"I saw you in the parking lot," he said weakly. "I was watching for you." Bill looked terrible. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing on Friday, and he looked like he hadn't slept since then. His eyes were swimming-pool red, moist and puffy, and he desperately needed a shave. He leaned against the wall as if that were the only way he could remain standing.

I gave him an encouraging, supportive hug. If he was trying to comfort me with his hug, he failed.

We separated, but I kept my hand on his arms. I didn't want Bill breaking down in the hallway, so I didn't ask him about Warren's condition. Instead, I asked, "Can we go see him?"

Bill managed a small, almost forced smile, then nodded. He turned from me toward the door and my hands fell away from him. He stopped there, his hand on the door handle, staring through the small glass window into the room. Brad and I waited patiently to the side, giving Bill the time to gather whatever it was he needed to gather. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he sucked a deep breath into his lungs and pushed the door open.

He stepped inside, holding the door for us. I passed him and stepped into the room, facing Warren as he lay on the hospital bed. Little had changed from when I had seen him last. Wires and tubes were still attached to him and the dancing lights on the video screens behind him indicated that he was, at least, still alive.

The nurse, who was standing near the machines, looked at me, nodded her greeting, then quietly exited the room, allowing us a few moments of privacy.

As I slowly approached the bed, I heard Bill say, "Brad. . ."

I glanced back. Bill held Brad's arm in his hand as he closed the door. He was holding Brad back, allowing me to continue on my own. I stepped to the side of the bed, looking down at my friend. He had a hard, almost pained look in his face, and he looked decidedly pale. Perspiration speckled his brow.

I carefully reached out and put my left hand over his. It was warm, but unresponsive. "Hi, Warren," I said softly, my voice barely a whisper in the small room. "It's me, Teddy. I'm here." I looked at the flashing monitors again, trying to remember what they had looked like the last time I had seen them and wondering what the difference was which left my friend's life hanging in the balance. I placed the backs of my fingers of my right hand tenderly against his cheek and bent over him, leaning down until my lips pressed against his.

The strangest feeling came over me. Warren's lips felt so dead, but they felt so full of life at the same time. Everything I had thought to say to him, everything I had wanted to say, vanished from my mind and I was left with empty words and thoughts. As I ended the kiss and lifted my head away from him, I began to think again about what I would say to him now and how I would say it. It didn't take me very long.

"Remember that old fort we built, Warren?" I said quietly and gently. "The one near the old stone foundation? Remember all the hours we spend carrying the wood and planks there and nailing it all together? It wasn't very big, but we had fun building it and calling it our own. I still remember the day you took some of your Mom's tea towels and pinned them over the windows for curtains. I often wonder if she ever knew what became of them.

"It was a crappy fort, really. It didn't keep out the wind or the rain, and it fell on our heads a few times, but it was our fort, and no-one else knew about it. We learned a lot about life there, didn't we? We learned a lot about a lot of things there. I miss those days, Warren. I miss the times we had together and I miss being young. Most of all, though, I miss you. Over the past few days, I realize I've missed a lot of chances to ask you the questions I always wanted to ask you, and now it's too late, but I'm going to ask them anyway."

I paused and took a deep, controlling breath as I looked down at Warren's face. And then I spoke.

"Can I have your stamp collection?" I asked. "I should be able to get a couple of hundred bucks for it on Ebay. Oh, and your autographed picture of the Beatles. That should bring in thousands."

"Ted!" Brad said. "What are you doing!?"

I ignored him and continued. "You can keep the autographed pictures of The Friendly Giant and Mr. Dressup. No-one even knows who they are anymore. I'd be lucky if I get five buck for both of them."

"For Christ's sake, Ted," Brad shouted quietly, "what are you doing!?"

Still, I ignored him, watching Warren's face with deep intent and impatience. "Come on, Pal," I said, "what's your answer? Can I have them or not? I have to pay for all the gas and phone calls somehow, you know. They won't pay themselves."

"Oh, God, Ted," Brad said. He and Bill were now standing on the other side of the bed, but my eyes never left Warren's face.

The room was filled with silence. I could almost hear the IV dripping. And then, suddenly, Warren's mouth twitched. Just the corner. Just a twitch. And then it began to curl up. The other corner soon followed and a small smile formed on his face. His eyelids opened slowly and his eyes found mine, and he saw the gigantic, relieved smile on my face.

His voice was harsh, almost forced, and little more than a rustle of paper, but it sounded better to me than a symphony by Mozart. "You knew," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, Warren," I replied. "I knew all the time."

"How?" he whispered.

I winked at him. "Dead people don't kiss back," I said.

Warren's smile grew and his hand turned over beneath mine, his fingers closing around it. His grip was extremely week, and it had taken considerable effort just to do that, but it was a wonderful feeling. I closed my fingers around his hand and squeezed gently as a tear formed in the corner of Warren's eye and began to roll down his temple. His face turned serious.

"I made it, Teddy," he said. "I'm going to be okay."

* * * * *

Warren fell asleep soon after that, and I reluctantly released his hand and circled the bed, taking Bill into my arms to give him a hug. He clung to me and cried once more, but they were tears of happiness this time.

"He's going to be okay, Ted," he said as we led him to the waiting room so we could sit and talk. "He woke up a few minutes after the fever broke. I wasn't even there, it happened so fast, but the doctors let me in to see him before they took him for his tests and examinations. He couldn't even talk, but I knew right then that he was going to be okay. I just knew."

He hugged me again. "Damn, Ted, he's going to be okay. My Baby is going to be okay."

* * * * *

Brad and I sat beside each other in Warren's room as he slept. Nurses came in occasionally to check on things, but, otherwise, their appearances were few and far between. With our encouragement, Bill had gone home to shower, shave, and to change clothes. We had told him to have a good, long nap as well, but he promised he would go home tonight and sleep. It would still be a few days before Warren would be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes.

"How are you doing?" Brad asked me.

"Great," I answered. "Everything's gone, Brad. All the tension. All the anxiety. It's all gone. I feel like I can take on the world now."

Brad began to chuckle lightly. "I was ready to tackle you, you know," he said. "The way you were talking to Warren? I thought you'd finally lost it."

"I had to get him back. When he kissed me, I knew he was pretending. I just had to get him back."

"Well, you got me. No wonder Bill just stood there and let you go. He must have known."

"He knew," I told him. "That's why he met us in the hall and stood at the door and looked in. He wanted to be sure Warren was ready for us - probably waiting until he could get that stupid grin off his face. Actually, I'm surprised he pulled it off. Warren isn't that good an actor. Maybe it was the drugs."

I sighed deeply and leaned back into my chair.

"I should phone Mom," Brad said suddenly. "Tell her Warren's okay. I can phone your parents, too. Do you know their new phone number?"

I shook my head. "No. It's in my address book in the bedroom, though. Lindsay knows where it is." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, took out the phone card, and handed it to Brad.

"Give me your cell, too. When I get the number, I'll punch it in for you."

I gave him my phone as well, then settled back in the chair again. I leaned my head against the back of the chair and promptly fell asleep.

* * * * *

Brad woke me up when Warren awoke. Bill still hadn't returned yet. As I stepped up to the bed, Warren saw me and smiled, "Hi, Gorgeous," he said in his rough, hushed whisper.

"When you get out of this hospital, I suggest you make an appointment to get your eyes checked," I told him. "I've never seen anyone more in need of glasses than you."

"Hand," he said.

I looked down his arm to his hand. He'd turned it over and I placed my own hand over it. His fingers once again closed over mine.

"Glad you're here, Teddy."

"I'm glad you're here, too."

Warren's head tilted slightly to the other side, his eyes searching. "Bill?"

"He's at home, Warren," I told him as his eyes turned back to me. "Having a shower and getting changed. I think he fell asleep though. He's been gone quite awhile. We'll stay here until he comes back."

Warren's hand tried desperately to clench mine. All I felt was a slight increase in pressure, but I knew what he was trying to do. "I was so scared, Teddy."

"So were we, Pal," I said. "So were we."

Warren stayed awake longer this time, but fell asleep once more before Bill returned. He had, indeed, taken a short nap, but looked much more like ‘Bill' than he had only a few hours earlier. He tried to get us to go home, but we stayed and kept him company until Warren awakened again so we could say our ‘goodbyes' to him and to give him our promises to return as often as we could to visit.

Mom and Dad were waiting for us at home, John and Bernice keeping them company. It wasn't quite ten o'clock when we got there.

"Lindsay is still awake, I believe," Dad said. "She has been most anxious."

I nodded. "I'll go talk to her." She was, indeed, still awake when I got to her room. I left the light off, but went to sit beside her on her bed.

"Is Uncle Warren okay?" she asked in a soft, wary voice.

I gave her a smile which she could see even in the dim light of the room. "He's fine, Sweetheart. He sent you a big hug and kiss."

Lindsay sat up and I took her into my arms and kissed her. She crawled out from beneath the covers and into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her cheek against my shoulder. "Daddy, what happens to people when they die?" she asked.

"That's a question no-one can answer, Sweetheart," I replied softly. "Some people think their souls go to Heaven. Some people think they just stop living."

"What's a ‘soul'?"

"That's like a spirit," I said. "It's what gives you life and makes you ‘you'."

"Like a ghost?"

"Sort of, but a little different. You can see a ghost, but you can't see a soul."

"Can the soul come back to visit after the person dies?"

"No, Sweetheart, it can't."

Lindsay turned her face toward mine. "So, if Uncle Warren had died, he could never come back to visit me again?"

"No, he couldn't."

She curled up on my shoulder once more and hugged me closer. "I'm glad Uncle Warren didn't die. I think I would miss his visits."

She fell silent after that and I sat there, holding her for only a few minutes before her arms slid away from my neck and fell limply to her side. My little girl had gone to sleep. I kissed her hair and hugged her gently, then stood up to put her back into bed. When she was all tucked in, I kissed her forehead, whispered, "Goodnight, Sweetheart," and left the room.

Brad and I went to the twins' room next to kiss them goodnight. They roused themselves only long enough for Justin to say, "Hi, Daddy. We missed you."

"We missed you, too," I said in a soft whisper. We kissed them and, moments later, they were asleep once more.

By the time we returned to the livingroom, Mom had served us each a cup of tea. We talked only as long as it took to drink our tea, then Mom and Bernice cleaned up and prepared to go home. We locked up the house after they left, and Brad and I took a quick shower together. As we stood there, the shower raining down upon us, Brad took me into his arms. "You look exhausted, Pops," he said.

"You don't look so shit-hot yourself, Tiger."

We kissed then, gently and slowly. Neither of us reacted sexually to the kiss. That wasn't in our plans that night. We kissed simply because we wanted to - because we liked doing it.

We slept well and easily that night. No dreams haunted me, and none awoke me.

* * * * *

The twins wanted scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast instead of their usual bowl of cereal, but Lindsay decided she would rather stick with corn flakes and toast. Brad helped by making coffee, and then I made him park his ass on a chair and keep the kids company. I was going to make breakfast and that was that.

There was no television that morning. We all sat down to breakfast together and suffered only one minor incident when Jeremy tried to skewer one of his sausages with his fork and sent the mini-missile into orbit over Brad's head. Jeremy looked at me, horrified that I'd be angry, but I merely leaned over to him, kissed his cheek, and gave him one of my sausages.

"Sorry, Daddy," he said meekly.

"It was an accident, Jeremy," I told him. "When you're finished eating, could you pick up the sausage and put it in the garbage?"

He nodded and smile, then carefully pierced the sausage I had given him with his fork, dipped it in the ketchup on his plate, and popped the end in his mouth. All was well.

Terry arrived as I was clearing the table. Brad was in the twins' bedroom, getting the boys dressed for the day.

"Oh, my," Terry said with a cheerful smile. "Someone's in a good mood this morning."

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, smiling back at her.

"You were whistling up a storm."

I stopped mid-way through putting dishes into the dishwasher. "Was I? I hadn't noticed."

"I'm not sure, but it sounded like Bach," she said. "That Brandenburg thing you play all the time."

"Hmm," I said as I carried on putting dishes in the washer and continued whistling up a storm with the Allegro from Bach's third Brandenburg Concerto.

"Daddy!" That was Lindsay, calling from her bedroom.

"What is it, Sweetheart?" I called back.

"I need help!"

"Coming!" I wiped my hands as Terry took over loading the washer for me. Lindsay was standing in her room in her panties when I arrived, Two outfits were laid out on her bed.

"I don't know which one to wear," she said. "I like that top. . ." (she pointed to the right set, then pointed to the left) "but I like these pants."

I switched the tops. "There you go," I said. "Problem solved. You're going to be as pretty as a princess this morning in that outfit."

"Aw, Daddy," she said shyly, "you're just saying that."

I knelt down and hugged her. "You're the prettiest princess to me, Sweetheart." I gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Do you want some help dressing?"

"I think I can do that myself," she said. Then, as I turned to leave, she added, "Daddy? I love you a whole lot."

"And I love you a whole lot more, Sweetheart. Now hurry. You have to leave for school in a few minutes, and don't forget to brush your teeth."

After Lindsay went to school, Brad and I played with the twins until it was time for me to go to my doctor's appointment. Brad came with me even though I didn't think it was necessary. "I just like being with you, Pops," he told me, "so I can do this whenever I want to." He leaned over and kissed my cheek as we waited for a light to turn green.

"You'll get us arrested."

"That could be fun, especially if they put us in the same cell together," he grinned. "You'd protect me from all the bullies, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, right!" I laughed. "Me and what army?"

The doctor's appointment went quickly. My heart was listened to, my blood pressure was taken, my weight was taken, and my nerves were checked. I was told there was no more need for the diet or the medications at all and I was given the ‘okay' to return to work whenever I wanted to. There was a lilt in my step as I walked out of the doctor's office with Brad walking by my side. I was certified healthy once again, my best friend was alive and on the road to recovery, my parents had moved out, and there was only one more hurdle ahead of me.

I could handle it. I felt I could handle anything.

We stopped at Tim Horton's to pick up a snack for dessert. Terry stayed to eat lunch with us, but I sent her on her way afterward. It had warmed up nicely outside and had almost reached room temperature. A nice day for a walk in the park. Brad and I piggybacked the twins as we walked Lindsay to school, stopping at the park and letting her walk the rest of the way with her friends.

I thought the boys would go straight for the jungle gym, but Justin asked, "Swing with me, Daddy?"

"Sure," I said and headed toward the swings.

Not to be left out, Jeremy shouted, "Me, too, Brad?"

"You got it, Little Buddy," Brad said.

I squatted down so Justin could slide off my back, then took my place in the leather seat of the swing. I motioned Justin forward and told him to turn around. I lifted him onto my lap with his legs straddling mine, his back against my chest. "Now, grab hold of the chains and hold on tight, okay?"

"Okay." His little hands wrapped around the chains and gripped them tightly. I put my hands over his to make sure they stayed there.

"Ready?" I asked, and Justin nodded. I pushed back with my feet, lifted them, and pumped with my legs, leaning back as I did so. With each arc, we swung higher and higher, and Justin was laughing with glee. Beside us, Brad and Jeremy were similarly swinging, and Jeremy was laughing just as hard.

"Higher, Daddy!" Justin shouted. "Higher!"

The harder I pumped, the higher we went until we were swinging in almost a half-circle. I don't think I've ever heard the boys laughing as hard as they did that afternoon, and I couldn't remember when I'd had as much fun.

I must tell you, I cherish each moment I spend with Lindsay, but there is something more to be said about father and son moments. Boys have different fun than girls, and my boys were undoubtedly having more fun than they had had their entire lives. I suspect there wasn't very much of it when they were younger. Every minute I spent with them, I loved my sons more and more. As I sat there, swinging with Justin, I wondered how I had managed to get through all these years without them. I thought about how lonely my life would be if the adoption hadn't been authorized. When I heard Justin laugh, I knew that my live would have been very, very lonely indeed.

At the peak of our swing, I relaxed, wrapped my arms around the chain, and held Justin close to my chest as the swing slowed down. Justin let go of the chains, putting his hands over mine and trusting me that I wouldn't let him fall. When we slowed down enough that I could stop us with my feet, Justin turned around in my lap, puckered his lips, and give me a big, smacking kiss.

"That was fun, Daddy," he said, and then he climbed down without another word and headed for the slides. Jeremy followed as soon as Brad managed to stop.

We sat there on the swings, watching the boys playing. I suppose I should say that I was watching Brad watching the boys playing. He was between me and the jungle gym. He watched them, laughing when they laughed and tensing up whenever they did anything the least bit risky. When they were out of danger, he relaxed again.

He turned his head to look at me. "When we're married, I want to adopt the twins," he said haltingly. I had rarely seen Brad as nervous as he was just then.

I hadn't expected this question, but I wasn't surprised by it. I knew that Brad adored all my children, and my kids loved him just as much - especially Jeremy. I was Jeremy's father now, but Brad was the only person that Jeremy could call is own. Except for Brad, Jeremy shared every person in his life, including me, with his older brother. More than that, Justin always got ‘dibs' on everything and everyone. Jeremy always took what was left over. Sure, Justin loved Brad, but, if he had a choice, he would pick me over Brad any day. For Jeremy, it was the opposite. But, sharing my kids with Brad. . .

"Really?"

"They're the closest thing to sons that I'm ever going to have, Ted," he said.

"You'll be their stepfather, you know."

"It's not the same," Brad said. "I could call them my sons, but they wouldn't be. I want to call them my sons and know that they really are."

He looked at me, his face full of hope and desire.

"What about Lindsay?" I asked.

"No," he said firmly. "Lindsay is your daughter. I'd never think of asking you to share her with me. Being her step-dad would be enough, but I'd really like to be a father to Justin and Jeremy. Or even just Jeremy." He sat there expectantly, waiting patiently for me to give him my answer.

I thought about it, but for only a few moments, and then I said, "Okay."

Brad's sparkling green eyes lit up and his chipped-tooth smile was blinding in the afternoon sunlight. He jumped up from his swing, stepped over to me, grabbed my cheeks in his hands, and gave me a huge, happy kiss. His eyes were full of tears when he did so. And then he hugged me hard. "Thank you, Pops," he whispered into my ear.

Of course, we had to piggyback the boys home again. It was much easier for them to ride than to walk. I got them some cookies and milk for a snack as Brad made a pot of tea, then we sat in the livingroom and watched cartoons. Justin fell asleep soon after the cookies and milk were gone. Jeremy nodded off soon afterward. We didn't even take them to their beds. We stayed there on the sofa and watched cartoons as the boys slept.

We had decided not to tell them about the adoption until after the wedding.

* * * * *

Brad fucked me at my request that night after the kids were asleep. "If Connie is going to fuck me tomorrow, at least I'll get a fucking I'll enjoy tonight," I told him with a wink. Brad was more than willing to oblige. It was a long, slow fuck, followed by an equally long and slow blowjob for me.

We fell asleep that night in each other's arms. The scent of my orgasm lingered on Brad's breath.

To Be Continued
 
Neil, you have out done yourself. I just love this story. Why do I cry so much when I read it? You have made them part of my family. I am so happy about Warren.


Thanks Neil for this beautiful story.

Chris
 
Wow! What a relief Neil. I am glad Warren pulled through. And no real cliffhanger this chapter, but we still have to worry about The Bitch. Thanks again for writing this.

Zac
 
Well, I honestly didn't know where you were going with the storyline with Warren in the hospital. I was surprised and now happy.

By the way Neil just reading this story make me want to visit Canada.
Thank you Neil!!
 
By the way Neil just reading this story make me want to visit Canada.
Thank you Neil!!

I'm sure you'd be most welcome, wherever you decided to visit. Since you're from California, though, I strongly suggest you visit during July or August, though. Our Summers are only about 2 months long, followed by 10 months of Not Summer.
 
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