Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2007 16:45:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brads Idol  Chapter Sixty-Six

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Matthew's assistance contributes substantially to a
more enjoyable story.  If you like feel good stories, allow me to recommend
"Never Take Love For Granted".  Matthew wrote it and if I have any
criticism, it's that he doesn't write fast enough or post as often as I
would like.


Chapter Sixty-Six: New Horizons

We got to the new house just as Donny and Mr. Paul arrived.  I woke that
morning all alone.  Uncle Ray had gotten up without waking me; guess I was
worn out from the previous night's activities.  When I woke I realized he
had not only tucked me in with the sheets, but put a blanket over me.  It
was nice and cozy and toasty, like being in a warm cocoon; I went back to
sleep.  More than once I was glad that Uncle Ray had this philosophy about
a person's attitude for the day being influenced by the way they woke up.
My dad would kick the side of the bed and tell me to get up.  I felt the
bed lean a little as Uncle Ray sat on the side of the bed and slipped his
hand under the covers.  He gently rubbed my back to wake me; I played
possum for as long as I could.  When I did get up I only had fifteen
minutes to dress and be at the new house; ergo, breakfast on the fly.

Breakfast consisted of a banana that I pealed as we got out of the car.
Donny gave me one of his weird 'what's up' looks.  I took the banana and
started pushing it in and out of my mouth, suggestively; Donny cracked up.
Uncle Ray and Mr. Paul turned to look at us like we were weird or had lost
our minds.  That just made Donny and me crack up more so we quickly made
our way to the door and away from the adults.  It wouldn't do for us to
have to explain what was so funny.

"Brad," Donny whispered, "why don't you swallow that banana and pretend
it's me you're enjoyin'.  Maybe later I'll give you a taste of the real
thing."  Donny half teased and half hoped.

"I had enough of you in me at camp," I replied.  "I think it's time for me
to massage your tonsils later."  Donny grinned and we had to hush when his
dad and Uncle Ray got near us.

"Why is it I think you two may be up to something?" Uncle Ray asked, or
actually just commented.  We both gave him our perfected innocent 'who us'
look.

When we got into the house, it smelled dusty and stale like a house that
had been closed up for a long time; probably because it had been closed up
for a long time.  We wandered through the house, just looking.  Everything
seemed to be just the way it was the last time we were here.  On this visit
I did feel a slight sense of excitement.  It wasn't from the idea of moving
into a new home, but the idea I was going to have a room that I had
something to say about how it got decorated.  To me, once we accomplished
the new look, I preferred to go home with Uncle Ray.  I could just visit
once in a while.

Donny asked me which room was mine and I showed him.  I also explained to
him that Larry and I would share this room.  He looked in the other rooms
and then asked me why I was sharing a room with Larry.  I had to quickly
explain to him how Larry liked to play and relax before going to sleep.
Donny cracked up again; he was having one of those mornings.

We stood around in the room while Mr. Paul and Uncle Ray talked about what
they wanted to do.  Mr. Paul suggested installing recessed lights in the
closet that turned on when with a trip switch hooked to the door.  That way
Larry and I either kept the closet door closed or learned to sleep with the
lights on.  When he suggested this he looked at Donny and smiled.  Guess
what kind of lights Donny has in his closet?  I didn't pay much attention
to their conversation; Donny and I were busy playing grab-ass, until I
heard something about a ceiling fan.  That part I liked.

"Ray, didn't you say something about twin beds and desks for the boys?"

"Yeah, they'll use the twin beds at my place and the bachelor's chest.  The
chest can go between the beds like a shared nightstand.  We were also
thinking about installing shelves on one side of the closet or just putting
another chest in there for them.  Since they're just renting this place,
Brad's dad doesn't want to invest too much money."

"Well, you know, we could install recessed lighting over the beds and over
the desks if you know where they'll sit.  I could hook them up to operate
off separate switches so the boys could each control their own."

"I appreciate it, Paul, but I think we better not put anything permanent in
the ceiling right now.  Let's just go with the closet lights and ceiling
fan.  We may need to consider putting a couple of extra outlets in here
though to accommodate things on their desks."

"What kind of things?" I asked, hoping for my own computer.

"Standard items," Uncle Ray answered. "Desk lamp, calculator, maybe a clock
or radio."

I kind of scrunched up my face with my 'you've got to be kidding, whooppee'
look.  He didn't even come close to mentioning a computer.

"Yeah, I know; poor depraved child," Uncle Ray commented to my look. "Right
now we need to get to work.  Brad, do you and Donny know what to do?"

"Yeah, you said we was gonna remove the wall plates.  You also said we had
to take down the trim and use it for a template to make new trim we can
stain.  When are we gonna get the new trim?"

"This afternoon, when we finish here.  Also, if we finish in time, Paul and
I thought we might go home and grill some burgers.  Can you guys handle
that?"  Our only answer was to smile and get right to work.

While we removed the wall plates, Uncle Ray and Mr. Paul removed the
bedroom door and closet doors and started taking down trim pieces.  They
were very careful not to break any, but I did hear a couple of cracks and
splits.  When we finished, I asked Uncle Ray what to do next.  He put us on
the floor pulling the carpet.

"Do you remember how we pulled the carpet at the apartments?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I guess that explains why we have a roll of twine.  Cut it in three
foot strips, pull the carpet, roll it up and tie it off.  Where do we take
it?  We don't have a dumpster here."

"Take it out and put it in the back of the truck.  We'll put it out with
the household stuff."

We grabbed a corner of the carpet and started pulling.  It didn't take any
time to pull it loose from the tacking strips.  We played around some and
landed on our butts more than once when the carpet didn't want to
cooperate, but we got it loose.  The razor knife made it easy to cut the
strips.  In a little over an hour, the room was stripped; we thought.

"Boys, don't you think you forgot something?  Those strips have to come up,
too.  Remember, we'll be laying hardwood flooring in here."

What I thought would be a quick morning's work just took a turn for the
worse.  If you've never had the privilege of pulling carpet tacking strips,
you've missed out on one of the most memorable experiences in life.  The
strips are narrow, thin, and lined with tacks.  The tacks are mounted sharp
point up to catch the back of the carpet and hold it in place.  Narrow and
thin might sound good, but the thin part makes them very brittle.  This is
further compounded by the fact that the strips are secured to the concrete
foundation with concrete nails that are intended to stay in place for many
years.  Simply stated, the strips break and come up one nail at a time in
lengths measured in inches, not feet.  After crawling around on my knees
for a while I was ready for a change of pace.

"Uncle Ray, we need ta get some pads.  This concrete is killin' our knees.
It doesn't just hurt, it HURTS!  We need pads before we can finish.  I got
another question, too.  How come we always get the dirty jobs?"  This job
was proving to be anything but fun.

"That's not a dirty job, that's a learning experience for someone who wants
to learn how to renovate from the ground up."  Great, just what I wanted, a
line of bull.  "As far as the pads go, you've had pads for your knees here
the whole time."

"No way.  We didn't have any in the truck and I didn't see any here.  Did
you see any, Donny?"  Donny just shook his head.

"I didn't say you had knee pads.  I said you had pads for your knees.
Think about it."  I sat on my heels thinking.  While I thought he just
looked at me.  Finally, he looked out the window towards the truck.  The
light went on.

With utility knife in hand I headed outside.  When I found the thickest
piece of carpet we had out there I cut off two sections about three feet
long; one for me and one for Donny.  When we folded the carpet over it gave
us some relief from the concrete.  The job still wasn't any fun, but at
least it didn't hurt as much.

While Donny and I continued to pull strips, Uncle Ray and Mr. Paul removed
all the trim including the door facings.  Then, they applied painter's tape
to the frames of the windows and the ceiling.  When they finished those
projects, and while Donny and I still pulled strips, they drew a diagram of
the room and measured for each piece of trim.  Finally, finally we had all
the strips up and it was time to go.  Leaving meant two things.  One was
buying all the trim we needed, and paint.  The other was food; that banana
didn't last very long and I was starved.

There was a place we loved to eat at about every six months.  Around Uncle
Ray's it was known as Krystal restaurants.  In other parts of the country
I'd seen them look the same but called White Castle.  The burgers were
small, about three inches square.  The meat was thin and square, and coated
with chopped onion.  To have a meal you had to eat at least six of them.
The popular name for them was 'mouse burger' or 'grease burger' or my
favorite, 'gut busters'.  We called them gut busters because of the amount
of gas they gave you.  Now think about teenage boys eating a sack full of
gut busters that loaded us up on gas and what kind of contest we would have
later.  Donny and I both knew that his dad and Uncle Ray probably wouldn't
appreciate and good ol' fashioned fartin' contest, so we had to wait till
later for that one.

Once home, we unloaded the truck and put the new wood in the garage area.
Uncle Ray was going to pull out his portable table saw so he and Mr. Paul
could get started.  Donny and I decided we'd strip down for a swim.  As
soon as we had our shirts off Uncle Ray stopped us.

"Wait up, guys.  You two have been hangin' around here or the camp most of
the weekend plus the days you were out of school.  Why don't you ride up to
the school?  I'd almost be willing to bet you could get into a game of
pick-up basketball or football.  Let me say it another way: you need to go
hang out with kids your age and get away from us for a little while.  Okay?
Just be sure you take one of the cell phones with you."

                                                      ****

"Mr, Ray!  Mr. Ray!  It's Donny.  It's Brad, Mr. Ray, he's hurt . . .bad!"

"Donny, slow and easy, son.  Where are you?"

"At the school.  We're at the basketball courts behind the main building.
Mr. Ray, he's on the ground rollin' around and holdin' his side.  He just
keeps callin' for you and sayin' how much it hurts. I don't know what ta
do."

"You're doin' just what you should do, Donny.  Stay with him and tell him
I'm on my way.  Tell him to stay down and not try to get up.  What
happened?  Is he bleeding?"

"It was Jake and his friends.  You know, the kid Brad got in a fight with.
They ganged up on him and Jake kicked him.  He kicked him hard, Mr. Ray.
And, yeah, there's blood comin' out of his mouth."

"It's okay Donny, just stay with him.  We'll be there in a couple of
minutes."

Donny and I rode bikes over to the junior high school.  Uncle Ray was
right; there was usually some guys hangin' around waitin' for somebody to
come along so they could get a friendly game together.  When we got there
some older guys were playin' on one court.  We spotted some other guys that
looked about our age and size standin' around on another court.  We didn't
have to wait long before somebody else showed up and we had a game.  These
games were always kind of round robin.  Guys would come and go on each
team, and we just kept playin' until there wasn't enough guys on a team or
we were worn out.  I don't know how long we'd been playin' when Jake showed
up with some of his buddies; all of them bigger than us.

"Well, if it ain't the nut kicker," Jake spouted off sarcastically.  "We
ain't in school now, buddy boy, and me and my friends here's gonna stomp
your little ass.  I'm gonna make you pay for what you did ta me."

"I didn't do nothin' to you, dumb fuck.  You started it and I finished it."
I knew that little statement wouldn't help me, but the way we were
outnumbered the only help I was going to get was to run.  If I ran then I'd
just have to face him again and then listen to him taunt me for running.
Looking at this kid, you couldn't help thinking his dad would have been
better off wasting that load on the side of the barn.

"Dumb fuck, huh?  Well, you just dumb fuck this!"  He landed a solid punch
to my gut and I bent over.  I didn't have to think about straightening up
because someone had my arms pulled behind me.  They had a knee in the small
of my back and held me there, bent backwards, while Jake did a job on me.
I remembered looking over and seeing two of his friends holding Donny while
another of Jake's friends landed fists in Donny's gut.  I don't know how
many times he hit me.  At first, it hurt.  He taunted me, telling me to cry
a few tears and he'd stop.  There was no way!

The guy holding me let go and I fell to the ground, gasping for air.  When
I rolled over I saw some of the other guys standing to the side, just
watching what Jake did to me.  The fists to my gut and face were bad
enough, but it really hurt when he kicked me.  I caught it in the side and
back and knew I was in serious trouble.  Pain shot up my back and then my
side.  Then, my whole body was one big mass of pain.  I needed Uncle Ray; I
hurt and hurt bad.  While he danced all over me, Jake kept spewing forth
some garbage about what his dad did to him for letting a little guy like me
take him.  I had no idea what he was talking about.

When he quit kicking me I rolled over and saw Donny lying on the ground by
me.  I looked around and recognized two of the guys.  One was Bobby, the
kid Donny took care of the last time.  I could hear Jake threatening to
kick the ass of any kid that told about what happened and what he did.  If
he got in trouble, then he'd be looking for them and they'd wish they'd
kept their traps shut.  The next thing I heard was Donny, and he didn't
sound too good.

"Brad?  Brad?  Oh shit!  Man, I gotta get Mr. Ray.  Lay still man, just lay
still."

Donny was gasping for air and I could tell he was hurting too.  But,
truthfully, I hurt so bad that I just let some things kind of register with
me but didn't think about them.  It was probably a good thing for me at the
time.  I could hear him talking to Uncle Ray and then he was telling me
Uncle Ray would be right there.  I knew it would only take him a couple of
minutes to get to where we were, but it seemed like hours.  I kept rolling
around and tears ran down my cheek.  I was also spitting up some blood, but
from where?  I heard Uncle Ray and Mr. Paul before I saw them.

"Easy, kiddo, I'm here."  Uncle Ray tried to not sound like he was too
worried, but he was.  "Let's put your arm down by your side so I can look.
Where does it hurt the most?"

"Every-where; I hurt all over."  I looked at Uncle Ray and couldn't help
but shed a few tears.  I hurt and I needed him to help me, make the hurt go
away.  "He kicked the shit outta me, Uncle Ray; the sorry bastard."  I
hadn't been wearing a shirt and Uncle Ray could see the foot prints on my
body.  When he touched my side I would have cleared the ground, but I hurt
too much.

"AAGGGHH!! . .Don't! . .Don't touch me!"  I screamed out and then
whimpered.  "It hurts, it hurts too much."

"Easy, boy, just lie there.  I promise, I won't touch you any-more."

He didn't touch me any-more except to run his fingers through my hair and
try to settle me down.  I heard him ask Mr. Paul how Donny was and then saw
both of them on my other side, watching me.  Donny looked scared and he was
still hurting.  I caught enough of Uncle Ray saying something to realize he
was on the phone calling for help.  Soon, I recognized the uniforms of
emergency medical technicians.  They prodded me and I yelled because it
hurt so bad.  My left side was the worst, then my left arm.  The blood in
my mouth didn't taste very good, either.  While the medics looked at me, I
could hear Uncle Ray saying something to the other kids.

"Listen fellas, I'm not going to give any of you a long lecture.  I know
that you saw what happened here.  I also know that kids have this code
about not squealing on one another.  Right now, I want you to look at Brad
and think about what happened.  He's hurt, and he's hurt bad.  That could
have been one of you.  Each of you has to make a choice.  The police are on
the way.  You can either tell them you didn't see anything and then have to
face yourselves everyday, or you can stop this bully by telling what you
did see.  This is what parents call a growing experience.  You choose
whether to take a stand or whether to cower back.  Just remember, you will
forever have to live with that choice."

The police arrived.  I saw one of them talking to Uncle Ray but couldn't
hear what they were saying; the medic kept asking me questions.  I didn't
understand half the questions they asked me, except when they wanted to
know if something hurt.  Yes, it hurt, all over.  They told me they were
going to lift me up on a gurney, and I had no idea what that was.  They
said it might hurt a little.  Might?  What an understatement.  Uncle Ray
was next to me again and I heard the police say something about meeting up
with us at the hospital.  Before they loaded me in the ambulance I heard
Donny complaining that he didn't want to go to the hospital, he was
alright.  He didn't win that argument.

I always thought being in the back of an ambulance was just a ride to the
hospital with the sirens going, getting to run every red light without
getting a ticket, and making people move out of the way.  But, it's crazy
riding in the back of an ambulance.  The driver was on the radio calling
out some kind of codes nobody, at least not me, could understand.  One of
the medics in the back was attaching a blood pressure cuff on me while
another one had a stethoscope moving around my chest.  Between all the
different talking and constant reaching over me or putting something on me,
this was not the fun ride I had thought it would be.  When I looked over at
Uncle Ray, he was on the phone again, but there was too much commotion to
figure out who he was talking to.

At the hospital I was rolled into this space they pulled a curtain around.
Again, I was subjected to being lifted and moved onto a bed.  Later, I
laughed when I remembered this lady sticking her head through the curtain
and wanting to know if I was alright; hospital comedian.  Finally, I heard
a familiar voice when Donny and his dad came in.  Uncle Ray was right
behind them.

"Uncle Ray, who were you talking to?"

"Your dad.  He's on his way."

"Nooo," I complained.  "I'll be okay.  Call 'im and tell 'im he doesn't
hafta come."

"Why don't you want your dad here?" he asked me, sounding surprised.

"Suppose he decides I should go back with him?  I don't wanna leave.
Please, call 'im."

"Don't be silly, Brad.  He's your father and he has a right to know.  I
have an obligation to let him know.  If he and I were to trade places, I'd
be furious if something like this happened to my son and I wasn't told
right away.  Don't worry, I doubt seriously that you'll be going anywhere
except to bed."

A nurse came in and started asking all sorts of questions.  I could tell a
lot of it was about insurance and was a little surprised to see that Uncle
Ray had a lot of paperwork.  I didn't know anything about.  I did
understand the part when he told them he'd be responsible for anything the
insurance didn't cover.  While he did that, a doctor came in and started
asking questions.  He asked me the same questions the medics asked and I'm
sure at least ten other people.  When you hurt, it's hard to smile and be
nice to everybody and I was hurting enough that I didn't want to be nice,
period.  My question was simple, why couldn't someone make the hurt go
away?

"Ray, I hope you know who did this to your boy, here."  That caught my
attention, someone thought I was his boy and I liked that.  "I can count at
least seven foot prints on his body.  What bothers me is where they are.
Has anyone given him a thorough exam to determine if there's more?"  Uncle
Ray shook his head.  "Okay, I'm going to send an orderly in here to clean
him up some.  I want to be sure I'm seeing bruises, not dirt.  Then, we'll
do some x-rays to see if there's any internal damage.  It shouldn't be long
before we have a complete picture."

"Alberto, I appreciate it, and I appreciate you coming down here today.
Hope we didn't interrupt a party or anything."

"It's called the life of a doctor.  You know I'm glad to come when you need
me.  I understand there was a second boy that was hurt?"

"Yeah, it's Donny.  He helped Brad last week, and they made him pay today."

"Mr. Ray, I'm fine, really."  The only answer Donny got from that statement
was what we called 'the look' from both Uncle Ray and his dad.  The doctor
just looked at him and smiled.  Donny stood and took his shirt off.
Suddenly it dawned on me that he wasn't wearing a shirt when we went to the
school either.  Where did he get a shirt?  I was cold.

I didn't know the doctor, but I recognized the name.  Alberto was Uncle
Ray's doctor.  The conversation told me Uncle Ray had called him in.  I
watched as he felt around Donny's body and poked him in a few spots.  Donny
grimaced once in a while but that was about it.  He nodded or shook his
head when the doctor asked him something.  After a few minutes Alberto
announced that it appeared Donny just had a few bruises and should be fine
in a few days.  Then everybody turned around and looked at me.  About the
time I gave them a questioning look, this man walked in wearing a blue
hospital uniform and carrying a pink pan filled with water.

"Hiiiiii, I'm Stephan.  Bath time," he sang out and I thought 'God, help
me'.  This really wasn't a man, at least not yet.  He looked like he was
barely out of high school, if that.  However, he was gorgeous.  He had an
olive tone tan that was accented with the blackest black hair you could
imagine and grey-green eyes that just sparkled with 'I'm happy'.  His
teeth, someone could buy a Corvette with the money that had to be invested
in those pearly whites.  What was really interesting was the fact that he
was not only drop dead gorgeous, but he was so effeminate that there was no
doubt about which way the door swung.  Also, there was no way you could do
anything but smile with him in the room and the way he acted.  I stared at
him until Uncle Ray leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Stop drooling."
I turned three shades of crimson.

"Doctor Alberto says I have to bathe you . . . ALL of you." He said with a
smile and a giggle as he looked right at me. Why did this have to happen
when I didn't want to be touched?  I felt someone fooling with my shoes and
pants.  Uncle Ray took my shoes and socks.  The boy, God, Adonis, whatever,
was playing with my pants.  Then I realized I was getting a boner; no way,
I hurt too much for my body to do this.  I heard and saw Uncle Ray getting
a real kick out of this.  The guy lifted the sheets and put his head under
there while he stripped me raw!  I could feel him breathing, actually
blowing gently, where he shouldn't and I blushed and started laughing.  It
hurt!

"Ooooooo, such a nice even, all over tan.  How you get that?" he asked me
in a sing-song tone.  I took a deep breath, knowing everybody was going to
have fun with this one.  Thank heavens my dad wasn't there yet.

Ever wonder why they even bothered to give you a hospital gown?  Actually,
I always thought they were half of a gown since there wasn't a back to
them.  After everyone had a good laugh with me getting bathed by the
orderly, and getting more goose bumps than anyone could count because it
was so cold, they took me for the x-rays.  At least the gown kept the air
from brushing over my still damp body.  When they did all that and made me
pee in a cup, the doctor decided I could have something for the pain.  I
still say anyone who smiles while sticking a needle in my butt has to have
a sadistic streak in them.  Some shot; I went out.

When I woke, I saw Uncle Ray sitting next to me.  When I heard a snore, I
looked over and saw my dad on the other side of me.  I wasn't wearing the
gown anymore, but I had this huge bandage wrapped around me and my left arm
was wrapped up and in a sling.

"Hey, guys.  The sick kid's awake," I announced.  "I gotta pee. Help me
up."  I tried to roll over, but Uncle Ray stopped me.  He pushed me back on
my back and smiled at me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked as he patted me on the side of
my hip.  That's when it hit me.

"I'm naked again," I said.

"Again?  What do you mean again?"  Dad asked.  Oh goody; explain this one.

"Oh, you missed all the fun," Uncle Ray said as he bent over for something.
When he stood up he handed me the wonderful hospital piss pitcher.  "You're
not getting up right now, young man.  Use this."  Then he looked at my dad
and continued with the story.

"You should have seen how many shades of red your son can blush when this
young stranger was down-stairs bathing him; all of him."

"Yeah, his name was Ste-phaaan," I added, exaggerating the last syllable.

I heard my dad start laughing and knew the two of them were going to have a
good time with this story.  Knowing I didn't need to listen to all this, I
finished what I needed to do and went back to sleep.

End Ch Sixty-Six

To Be Continued: comments welcome; contact Dwight Wilson at
adm2780@yahoo.com