Date: Sun, 02 Apr 2006 17:36:41 -0700
From: Boy Writer <npwriterboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: All For Chad -- Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely FICTIONAL. Any resemblance it bears to any
true story is only coincidence. This story depicts consensual sexual acts
involving teenage boys. If this material is illegal to read where you are
located, please do not read it. If you are offended by this topic matter,
please do not read it. No moral or political judgments are intended by the
contents herein.  An email address is available and I welcome comments or
feedback. I hope you will find this story enjoyable.


All For Chad

Chapter 5


The following two weeks flew by like a dream. A bad dream. A silent
nightmare. By the time my father passed, both sets of my grandparents had
already passed long ago.  Since my parents were both only children, that
meant we really had no family. But, my parents had a circle of close
friends and we had some distant family out of state. There were calls to
make, decisions to be made, and surviving to do. I took the lead in this,
as Mom was too consumed.

I spent the first two days making phone calls, giving the news in a
detached way. Many of those I called offered their condolences and
'anything' they could do to help. Then there was the parade of people
stopping by to pay respects and bring food. I thanked them all, but Mom was
not up to seeing any of them. It all began to seem trite after a while. I
called my friends from school on the third day and some of them came over
to show support, but I was not able to smile once.

Then came the funeral. I handled all the arrangements. Mom told me which
cemetery and mortuary, and I made the decisions. I even tried to ask her
about the coffin. She just gave me a price range and said to get something
nice. I even selected the suit my father was to wear and delivered it to
the mortuary with Mrs. Ward's help.

Mom and Chad were like ghosts to me those 2 weeks. On nights that neighbors
did not bring food, I cooked and cleaned the house. I couldn't tell you for
the life of me what I cooked, but I know we ate. Mom spent all day in
bed. She got up to shower a few times, and came down to eat, but otherwise,
she was in her own world, mourning the loss of the love of her life. Chad
too was lost in his thoughts. I noticed he was writing in a journal at some
point, and that he spent a little time with some friends at the house, but
otherwise, he, like Mom, was immobile.

Nothing would ever be the same, and our Summer plans seemed so unimportant.
I quit my job at the pool and Mom took a month off. Chad quit Soccer Camp
and did not feel comfortable returning the firm, even though Mr. Harris
said they liked having him around. I was suddenly not interested in
school. I stopped swimming for the rest of the summer and turned down the
chance to be captain when it was offered to me.

And all the while, I could not cry. And I hated myself for it. My father
deserved my tears. I felt I owed some visible pain to him. I sat up every
night of those 2 weeks trying to make myself cry.

One night, I saw feeling so desperate, I actually thought about the
impossible. I thought maybe it would easier to take my life and be with
Dad. I sat in the bathroom that night, numb inside. I had taken out a razor
and left it on the counter. I was thinking about a girl at school named
Margie. She had cuts on her arms that she had given to herself. I remember
asking her about them one time. She told me that she did it to make herself
feel emotions, to feel alive, to feel anything other than numb inside. I
was thinking about those words a lot as I stared at the razor on the
counter.

Just then, I heard the phone ring. I didn't feel like answering it. It was
probably just another friend or someone trying to make us feel better. I
didn't want to feel better. I wanted to hurt. I needed to hurt.

"Chris, it's for you." Mom was calling from upstairs. "It's long distance,
hurry."

I went back into my room, flopping on the bed and picking up my extension.

"Her, Chris." I felt a sudden rush when I heard Billy's voice. "I heard
about your Dad. I'm awful sorry."

I struggled to find words. "It's okay. We'll be fine. How are you?" I don't
know why I asked and I was not sure if I even cared. It had been months
since I talked to Billy.

"I'm good," he said. "You can talk to me if you need to. You know, I still
care about you."

I wanted to burst into tears. I wanted to beg my Billy to come be with me.
But, he had a new boyfriend and he was so far away, and things were already
over for us. I knew I couldn't unload onto him.

"It's fine. Listen, it must be late there. Thanks for calling. You take
care," I said as I started to hang up.

"Wait!" he yelled. "Just let me say one last thing. I am sorry I'm not
there for you. I'm sorry things ended up like they did. But, remember,
Chris, there's a lot of people who care about you and need you. Think about
Chad. He lost his dad too, and now he's gonna need someone to teach him how
to be a man. And, just for the record, I have to tell you that I still
love....."

"Don't," I stopped him. "Don't say that. Not now. I really do appreciate
you calling, but really have to go."

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I went back into the bathroom, picked
up the razor and threw it away. Billy was right, I was needed, and I was
not about to do something stupid and selfish when my family needed me so
much.

* * *

Finally, it was one week before school was to start again. Things began to
turn around somewhat as we each began to realize that our lives were going
to go on, weather we liked it or not. I was cooking dinner that night when
Chad walked into the kitchen and started to help me de-vein the green
beans. We stood in silence for a moment. Then, Chad reached over, putting
his arms around me and laying his head into my chest. I held him to me,
realizing that we hadn't even hugged since the night Dad died. I felt so
sorry for Chad. He was so close to Dad and Dad had been so proud of
him. Still no tears of my own.

Then, at dinner that night, Mom started to perk up a little, talking about
plans. She was discussing things like the lawyer and Dads will and
arrangements to be made, when she suddenly stopped herself.

"My god, Chris. Do you know how much you have done around here? You took
care of everything when I couldn't. I was just sitting here realizing that
you are the man of the house now." She looked at me with tears in her
eyes. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you to, Mom. It was actually not that hard. I just told everyone I
was handling things and asked them for recommendations. The only hard part
really has been worrying about you two."

Mom looked at me with a strange look, as if she had just realized something
important she forgot.

"Chris... My god, son, you haven't cried once. You were so busy being
strong for us that you haven't even cried for your father." She stood up
and came over, kneeling next to my chair.

"I wanted to. I tried to," I pleaded with her as if she could do something
about it.

And then she did. She pulled me into an embrace, saying "Honey, you don't
have to be strong.  Even the man of the house needs his family to lean on
once in a while. It takes strength to cry sometimes."

As Mom held me there at the dining room table, weeks of bottled emotions
flooded out of me. I began sobbing uncontrollably, shaking from the
strength of my tears. She held me silently as I began to cry out loud and
blubber all over her shoulder. Lost in my emotions, I barley noticed as
Chad moved closer to me and held me from the side. We stayed like that for
what seemed like days before I cried myself out. Mom walked me down to my
room and tucked me in.  Chad cleaned up the dining room and kitchen.

I slept the whole next day. Roles had changed, as Mom was running the house
while I took my time to grieve. Somehow, I was glad I had not been
emotional with them. It was like some sort of beautifully choreographed
dance, how I led while Mom floundered, then she led while I floundered.

By the second day I knew I had to get myself together and try to do my part
to work out our lives without Dad. That day we went to the lawyers to hear
the will. There was a lot of legal mumbo jumbo and details that meant
little to me. The jist was that Dad had left a lot behind. Enough for us to
be okay. His life insurance policy would pay off the house, and Mom would
receive early pension benefits that should take care of some expenses. Her
income should handle the rest, she thought. Chad and I were left trust
funds, which we could not have until we turned 18. The money would be
invested wisely by Dad's lawyers until we reached manhood. I guess it was
mostly good news, but it seemed all so hollow. Having Dad was better than
all the financial resources in the world.

* * *

That night, I went to sleep crying. I was suddenly awakened without knowing
why. It was unusual for me to wake up unless there was a noise or something
wrong. I rolled over looking at my digital alarm clock, to realize it was
only 1:30 am. Then, I heard soft sniffling from the doorway. Rolling to my
other side, I saw Chad curled in a ball in my doorway, hugging a pillow to
his chest, burying his face in it to muffle his cries.

"Chad, are you okay," I said, starting to get up out of bed. Then, I
suddenly realized I was not dressed. I had been sleeping in the nude for a
couple years by that time. I cover myself with the blanket and walked over

"Only about an hour tonight," he said.

"Tonight?" I asked with a stern tone. "You mean you have been there other
nights?"

"Actually, almost every night," Chad said, looking up at me pitifully. "I
didn't want to wake you, but being closer to you made me feel better."

I scooped Chad up into my arms and guided him to my bed, laying him down
and taking him into my arms. Instinctively, I pulled him into an embrace as
he lay his head against my bare chest and continued to cry. I felt my own
tears begin to pour, and did not try to hold them back. We lay holding each
other weeping together until we both drifted off to sleep.

In the morning I awoke with Chad still in my arms. He began to stir just as
I did. He looked up at me smiling.

"Thank you Chris. I don't' mean to be a big baby, but I miss him so much."
Chad looked sad again then.

"It's okay, Squirt. I miss him too. If you need to come sleep with me to
feel better you are always welcome. You know, just like you used to when
you were a kid?" I smiled at him, realizing he was definitely not that
little kid anymore. He was not just my little bro I needed to protect. We
were both mourning, and it turned out I was needing him just as much as he
needed me.

"But, you said all that stuff before about guys your age needing privacy."
Chad looked confused.

"Well, things are different now, Chad. We need each other right now, so
it's okay. You are more important than my privacy, you know." I pulled him
tightly to me and closed my eyes.

I suddenly began to be aware that my dick was stirring in response to the
closeness of Chad's body.  Suggesting we get dressed and have breakfast, I
got up form the bed, forgetting I was naked for a moment. As I walked to
wards the door, Chad began to giggle slightly. I turned out to see what was
funny, which made him giggle more, as the view went form my ass to my dick.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I should wear some pajamas to bed for a while if you're
gonna crash with me." I could feel my face turning red.

"No need." Chad nonchalantly jumped out of my bed, buck naked himself, and
bounded past me towards the bathroom. My room had its own entrance into the
bathroom Chad and I shared, which he shut and locked behind him.

"Creep!" I hollered after him. I could hear him begin humming inside the
bathroom as if I was not there.

That day, after breakfast, Mom said she was going to spend the day with her
friends. She reminded us that school was starting soon, and asked if we had
the supplies we needed. We both said we were fine, so she have us some
money and suggested we do something nice with our day.

"How about the beach, Squirt?" I tossled Chad's hair smiling.

"You're on," Chad hollered, running down the stairs to his room.

We sent the day at the beach. I didn't bring my surf board, so we just
walked along, talked about Dad a lot, and threw a ball around. When we came
home, Mom had made dinner and was waiting for us.

"Sorry, we missed one of the busses," I told her.

"It's fine, I was just taking it out of the oven." Mom presented her famous
lasagna, placing it on the table in front of us.

We had a great meal and talked more than we had in weeks. Mom talked to me
about driving, saying that I should get a book to study and take my written
test, so she could start teaching me to drive. She said we would need
another driver in the family. After all, what would we do with three cars
and only one driver. We both agreed to put Dad's car in the garage and not
use it. He had bought his 1972 Stingray when it was fresh off the factory
floor and had take excellent care of it for 24 years. He only drove it on
weekends, and never to work. We didn't feel right driving it. So, Mom
decided she would continue to drive her BMW and let me drive Dad's Land
Cruiser.

Chad came to my room again that night and we cuddled again. This went on
all week.