Old Man_COMPLETE_Parts 1 and 2

[ Today is Thursday, January 19th, 2012. HEY ALL I'M REPOSTING THIS ENTIRE 4-PART THINGY OF AWESOME!! I've also JUST finished writing Part 4 yesterday~~ Call it "Rehab" for the MaxBradley pairing, if you will; sorry I was not able to update sooner! I blame it on college! And Psychology funness and annoyance!! If you start asking if there's any hint of "that kind of stuff" in this entire story... *facepalm!* It's a yaoi pairing involving two suffering (immature, in need of serious psychoanalytical Freudian therapy) individuals. Max has never forgotten about Roxanne and she has played an integral role throughout the story thus far, since the Original "Crash" fanfiction and the Prologue "After Today", then on! I'll be mentioning her again here, so be on the lookout!! *hint hint* Bradley misses his mother who passed away as most Disney parents do. He was left with a semi-abusive father and has been affected by it, plus a lot of other things, which made him the jerk that we all know and love / hate. LOL Enjoy crazy people ENJOY! Dedicated to all fans following me since Day 1 and others that have taken the time wasting their life reading my shit from the very beginning!! YOU'RE awesome!!! And I'm officially insane.

As a bit of background, this happens after Max goes into another one of his suicidal moments, thanks to the musings of his subconscious (deviation titled "Apology")... Idiot.]

…


Only now was it becoming clear that the Other Half was not what Max had believed it to be: a friend. A friend there to guide him, defend him against all abuse from a crazed jock.

Someone who he had fallen into deep lust with for the longest time.. and then...


The black canine stared at the stucco for substitute, wallowing in a cross between enlightenment and self-pity. His left wrist was tightly wrapped in thick gauze, still pulsating from the tension and its release. To not get into deeper trouble with his friends, he decided to wear a thin, long-sleeved sweater, navy blue. Lucky for him it wasn't the right; they would have noticed him wincing his he walked around the kitchen with a heavy pot handle.

Now it was past one in the morning. The world around him had gotten dark around 6 in the evening.

There he lay, bundled up in a warm comforter. But he couldn't sleep, counting the bumps on the ceiling in dim blue light. His eyes stung. He kept on counting...

Bradley.


The word "child" echoed in his mind. He never wanted to be labeled as one since high school. But, was it really true? Was he… immature? Was everything he felt towards him, involved in him, nothing but a selfish, instant gratification? Like what he said, "Don't confuse love with lust!"

Maybe, I like confusing my terms..... Do I?

Motionless, waiting for daybreak, and trying to remove a dark veil from his eyes.


An 8-bit tune filled the room from the dresser nearby. The cell phone vibrated against the wood finish and almost woke the guys up, had it not been for Max snatching it off the ledge and hurting his wrist in the process, "ow owow; fuck."

He flipped it open and heard a single word, "Max."

...

It was now 2 in the morning.

"Max? Are you there?"

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. The boy mentally shuddered at the sound of his voice. About a minute passed by, sounding of static on the other end until a pseudo-snide remark interfered, "Are you alive??" He buried himself under the comforter and responded in a whisper, "Yeah."

"... I'm glad."

"Me too." The boy nearly smiled in the glow of the small screen.

A bit of silence followed before Bradley continued, "Max?"

"Hm?"

"Let's take a breather. Um, let's visit your old man."

Just a tad confused, "What?"

Now a gruff tone, "You heard me."



-----

"What are you doing?" Bobby frowned and looked at the mess on the floor around Max's bed. An open piece of luggage had a poorly tossed change of clothes and bare necessities meant for the weekend, spilling over the edge.

"I'm going out."

"You don't mean moving out of the dorm to live in the Gamma House, do you??"

The black canine had his back arched to him, raising a bit more at this speculation, "Of course not. I'm going to see my ol—dad. I'm going for the weekend to visit my dad... I miss him."

The two had barely made eye contact ever since that grating morning, after that memorable Halloween night.

The boy whirled around and avoided bumping into him as he walked into the bathroom and locked the door. Max looked in the mirror and noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
The baby blue eyes flicked red—

What are you doing?

I'm going to visit my dad. I miss him.

You miss holding Uppercrust in your arms! And you in his! You could care less about your "old man"!

The Other Half grabbed at his shoulders and forced eye contact,

"Don't lie to me!" He was absolutely livid, "DON'T. LIE."

The ego just took what the id had to say and nodded his head, "I might be lying. I do want to be with him again... but I want to see my dad too."

"With what blessing?!" shaking his arms desperately. His usual calm nature was being dragged down by a shaky intake of air. A wave of anger was replaced by some other tactic. The Other Half gulped and ran a hand through his lover's hair, "Maximilian—My dear Maximilian. Beloved! Why would you want to break your heart over this parasite??" He gave a determined kiss on warm lips, "Love me! Only me. You don't need anyone else. You're fine on your own. You don't need him—you don't need anybody! Nobody will take the place of Roxanne!"

"Since when have you ever cared?" cold response. Something in the alter ego's features began to resemble that of the real Goof. His brows suddenly furrowed and before the other knew it he was against the wall, wind nearly knocked out of him.

For the first time, tears ran down from the sockets of glowing ruby orbs, "Nobody will!" sobbing, "Why do you want to betray us? I'm a part of you, Max!" The Other Half struck him hard. Max didn't bother to return the blow. He just gazed at his own confidante. A lover. A savior. His voice of reason. His own tormentor.

"Nobody will take the place of Roxanne. I loved her." Eyes widened in shock, "Loved?!"

"I never said that Bradley would take her place. She means too much for me. He gets that."

"No!" holding him tightly, never wanting to let go, "If you really care for her, you'd stop seeing him! You'd go and find her, not Brad—follow her to the ends of the earth and claim what's rightfully yours! Ours!"

Max kissed his Other Half on the forehead. Embraced him and buried his muzzle in raven hair...

He didn't know how to react to this.


A knock sounded at the door. The kid washed his face for the third time and grabbed the nearest towel, damp and cold,

"Max, where are you going?" He opened the door and saw his buddy, then smiled,

"Hey Peej. I'm going to see Dad this weekend."

PJ blinked and gawked at him with those amber irises, "Willingly?"

He only knew how many times Max just wanted to get away from Mr. Goof. To hear of finally wanting to see him was a bit unexpected, "You want me to come with?"

"No," looking around noticing that Zimmeruski was a no-show, "I'll be going alone... Peej?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for the offer." A hug came from nowhere. I'd love it if you could, but then...

PJ didn't know what to do. The last time he had received one was way back when they were just a couple of rowdy kids, some Christmas morning. He forgot which year...

"Aw Max don't get all sappy," patting him on the back and distancing away, "you're crying."

Goof rubbed at his eyes, "No," taking a sniff, "I just got something in them. That's all."

His best friend smirked, "I guess we gotta tell Bobby's ghost to stop chopping onions in the kitchen, huh?"

For the first time in a long while, Maximilian let out a good-humored laugh,

"Shut it, man!"

-----

The next day...  Friday. Just as instructed, the canine waited at the Reference Section of the college library, near the same spot they had bumped into each other way back in September... That same night... Out of habit he dwelled on the past, and thought of her again before playing the recorded tape over and over again in the back of his mind.

"Can you stop answering in one-word sentences??"

When he turned away after throwing the book in his fumbling hands, "You're welcome." before walking off.

He almost grinned watching himself picking up the weight on the floor and going into a nervous sweat. The naivety of this kid! Max didn't know, after all this time, whether he had gotten wiser or stupider.

Looking back even further, he wondered if Bradley Uppercrust was the only jerk present in that locker room. Everything that happened that strange afternoon was his fault, wasn't it?

... Or, was it..


"Angel." Clouds parted from foggy eyes. "There's a back way out. You got everything?"

The boy nodded and picked up the case lying next to the bulky scanner printer. He looked behind the senior in question. "There's no one nearby. All my stuff is already packed in the trunk. You can put your case back there, too."

Max didn't know exactly how he was going to get back home. Hearing this, his heart skipped a beat or two. He kept silent, and followed quiet footsteps down the linoleum path to heavy double doors. Every time the sophomore looked in his direction, the senior averted his eyes. The distance between them was immense for being so close more than a week ago, "Bradley?"

The jock pressed his weight against the metal beam; barrier opening with a clank, "Come on." answering as if he never heard the question. A fantasy jolted through the kid's mind. He wanted to throw the case aside and pin his lover to the brick wall to show how much he missed him! The expression on Uppercrust's face was immediately sobering; he looked as if he were to collapse at any moment. There was a slight swaying motion to his walk, as if everything around him was nothing but a dream...

Just a dream. The fog shielded over light blue orbs again, "Bradley," reaching for his hand, to which the other pulled away and slipped into his trench coat pocket,

"You never learn, do you?"

The asphalt greeted the soles of their shoes, crunching the red and yellow mulch. More leaves fluttered from their branches. A couple fell in the boy's hair. Neither had noticed. Max was smart enough to be wearing a sweater this time. The same he wore on the day that he had made up his mind to transfer out of campus due to his "old man's" skyrocketing popularity. Bradley wore dark grey over his usual maroon. Goof Boy looked to the sky.

Crows mocked their presence this dreary afternoon. He slid across a bit of frost. It wasn't getting that cold already—was it?

"Where is it?" hot breath forming puffs of smoke in the chilly air.

"Storage area nearby."

"Is it a part of the campus?"

"Nope."

-----

For being the loose cannon in practically everything else, Bradley was a hell of a good driver, eyes always focused on the road ahead. The fifth freight truck zoomed by the opposing lane. Max didn't have to take the wheel even once. Only a half hour passed by. A half hour of near silence.

Rows and rows of cornfields swept past his vision. A speck of sun broke through lead skies.

The boy had to gasp for air when he failed to speak again... Now mouth barely opened...

"uh. Where'd you get the car?"

"My old man got it for me," never letting his pupils shift, "ironic, actually."

"How much was it?"

"Way past your budget, if you ever decide to get a job. Can't you drive??" The dead look transformed to puzzlement.

"Usually, I'd... "

The black Lincoln slowed to a stop at a main intersection. The route home was straight ahead.

"Bradley, can we stop somewhere along the way?"

The driver flinched, "Why? Do you want to talk, or do you want to make out??"

"I—

"What do you take me for?!" He sounded more alive now that his frustration lit a spark, "Just because you classify me as a whore it gives you the right to do whatever you want with me??" The traffic light was still on red; foot planted firmly on the brake, "Max. What is the definition of 'whore' to you?"

The senior glared, waiting for a response.

"A whore... is someone you pay to have sex with. But not always. Some people just choose to be—

"Choose to be?" The response sounded high pitched due to the lack of oxygen to his diaphragm, "That's really funny, Goof Boy. I forgot to laugh!" Bradley's tone of voice was painful. Max should have kept his mouth shut. The light went green; wheels grinded on the asphalt—

"And what if the paid whore doesn't do what he or she is told to do?"

"..."

"Answer me!" The young man came to a screeching halt off the side of the road; dirt ruined the spotless rubber and chrome. Both might have just flown through the window shield if they didn't have their restraints on, "Well?!"


"They're," catching breath and swallowing a hard lump, "not doing their job."

"You expect them to be punished?" It was near accusation.


"No." Brad clicked off his seat belt and twisted his body to set his record straight, motioning with his hands and arms,

"Most clients punish their whores. Their handlers will torture them to get what they want. They never bother to know their name nor where they came from."

This was a horrible time to bring up the Occult rituals the fraternity performed from time to time. The kid had his lips sealed. Hypocrisy was blatant in both males.

"The ones I've met," he continued, "tell me they were neglected. Tell me they were forced into it. Drugged, kidnapped, whatever. They tell me. And, I listen. I know it's their job, but if they're not up to it, I still pay them the full amount and don't speak a word of it to their pimps."

This was hard to digest.

"You think they're just filthy creatures that the world can do without? Do you expect everyone to be pure? Without sin??" He grabbed at the sweater's collar and brought the kid's face centimeters away from his, "Until people like you decide the time is ripe?"


.....


"You do the same thing, Brad. I bet I'm not the only one you've corrupted."

His back slammed the passenger seat door.

"You raped me!"

"So have you. What's the difference?" He half wished that a tractor would come by and run them over. His lack of anger only irked Uppercrust even more, "You started it!"

"You did... let's put up the shades and rock in the backseat already."


Bradley did no such thing. The car ignited and blazed back on the track.

"If I didn't feel it was my responsibility to get you to your dad safely I'd unlock the door and kick you out so you can find yourself under the wheels of a fuckin' truck!"


Maximilian never felt so disconnected from reality in his life.


"I hate you!" Brad sounding dreadfully abnormal; tears welling up inside of him.

"Why are you helping me then? I'm going to the back and sleep. Wake me when we get there

"But I need you to tell me where we should go once we reach the city limits, Max


"Then STOP insulting me!!" lunging and wrenching the wheel from the senior's hands and twisting it towards an oncoming car in the other lane—

Bradley shrieked in horror and as quick as lightning pushed him out of the way at the blare of a horn—

The sides of both cars grazed at each other and kept going at full speed—


"Are you crazy you almost got us killed!!"

"I'm not the one killing in your stupid ritual orgies!"

"I will not be held responsible for the death of those that had nothing to do with us!"

"You know what?! You're a fucking hypocrite!"

"So are you you crazy bitch!"

"Then we agree on something!"

"Finally!!"


Now like an old married couple in unison, "SHUT UP!"

-----

The darn canines were a lot calmer throughout the next several hours. The silence was replaced by a dark, neoclassical melody…

"We're running on empty," pulling up to the station on the outskirts of town, "wait here, Max."

"Okay." Goof Boy smiled before needing to turn away from a cute wink.

At some point in their day's journey they did end up parking for a while. But all that happened between them was a long embrace, kissing each other's face, blushing all the while like kids playing in the closet. They avoided lip contact; both knew it was going to lead to a more depraved form of affection...

Max willingly let the whore be on top as his form of an apology. The sweetest, sickening words fell from their lips, telling each other how much they cared, and what regret they felt. Many questions, old and new, were asked, but never answered. Before they knew it, they nearly drifted off into sleep, eyes fogged with salty dew...


...


It still wasn't right. Being involved in this way. If anyone else who bore the same complex shone with pride, then he was the type to douse the fire—snuff it out as a sin of weakness.


I'm weak, Other Me. We both know that. He held his hand firmly and kissed a suffering being on a pale cheek.

You're going to kill us, Maximilian. You've accepted it. You'll make no effort to change, will you? What if... I can't change it?


The ruby orbs lost all light before they began to disappear with the rest of him,

... Please, Max.

His plea was a whisper...


"Maximilian?" A warm hand touched his lap, "Are you okay?"

The boy looked away from the window pane and his own relflection.

"You look tired. Are, we almost home?"

Bradley fastened his seat belt and gazed into watery orbs...


"Yeah, we are."


"I'm glad." A child's smile.


Something freshly buried in the mind's eye suddenly growled.

You two. Will only end up killing each other. Inside and out... Bastards.

I'll be back, when He needs me..... You can count on it.


END OF PART 1


"Dad!" Max leapt into his father's arms when the door finally opened, catching him completely by surprise—

"Maxie!" Goofy returned the hug and peered over his only son's shoulder, "huh?"

"Good evening, Mr. Goof."

A familiar redhead with a bob of short hair and pointed frames strutted over to the entrance, in a sky blue turtleneck and a long, lavender skirt, "Oh it's so good to see you again!" kissing the sophomore on the cheek, to which he beamed. Bradley looked at the college librarian, not in disdain, most probably mere disapproval. That didn't stop him from extending a cordial hand,

"Ms. Marpole—

"Soon to be Mrs.—greeting each other in all politeness. Throughout their platonic chat afterwards, Goofy took Max to the other side of the porch,

"What's Mr. Uppercrust doing here, Max?"

No better time to get some weight off his chest, "We're friends now, Dad. We've, you know—" shrugging his shoulders in place of laughing nervously, "settled our differences!"

His father raised a brow, as for the how—"We just got to talking to each other, after you got your college degree—" rocking back and forth on his toes and placing both hands in his pockets, "And, we realized that we have a lot in common."

"I'm not so sure—

"Pete ain't exactly the most trustworthy friend on the planet either, Dad." Giving a funny little smirk to seal the deal, "But, he's a good guy underneath all that."

Goofy still had an air of uncertainty despite his usual cheerful self,

"All right, Maxie. Do the boys know you're here?" Max stuck his tongue out playfully before responding, "Yep! But, they don't know that Bradley drove me here. It's a bad idea letting them know…"

The Uppercrust kid gave Mr. Goof a friendly pat on the back,

"The ex X-Games King being friends with the captain of Team 99? It's unheard of! They'd no sooner burn us at the stake for being heretics!"

Max motioned him to cut away his sense of humor once Goofy turned to face this "changed man". Sylvia giggled and dragged a confused Goof away,

"Don't worry none, honey. I've known this student for a long time!"


An odd, disturbing image crept to Maximilian's head, which he immediately dismissed.


"He used to come by the library all the time during his freshman year. Quite the bookworm, weren't you, Bradley?" The senior went red from embarrassment, "He'd always tell me it was his only way to escape his 'prison of a fraternity' and all the sports practices in between—Remember, sweetie?"

"Haha! Yep—" Sweat flew in all directions as he tugged at his collar while Max failed to stifle a giggle, throwing his head back and laughing nonstop,

"Bookworm Bradley! That's adorable!"

-----

With the petite Chihuahua around, it was easy to break the ice between the jock and the new champion's father. Sylvia played the mediator at every turn. Yet she was downright oblivious to the fact—

"Should we tell her?"

"What are you asking me for, Dad?" Besides…

Her hand was on Bradley's shoulder, currently enthusiastic about his progress in trivial things, amongst them being reading classic novels, poetry, and his dabbling in fine art. Their slabs of pound cake, drizzled with strawberry syrup, were getting cold along with the instant coffee. A drop or two of the transparent, viscous topping tinted the baby blue-white checkered tablecloth, surface decorated with a woman's touch. A vase of flowers burst with the rainbow's spectrum, opaque glass reflecting their merry dispositions…


Goofy was confounded at the sight which his son found rather pleasant.

If the senior's participation was all out of a devised plan, then he was doing a mighty good job at it. Maybe all the boisterous laughs were mocking of her intelligence. The hot blushes were of shock, as if she had unearthed a dark secret.

Everything was going just as planned when the librarian pulled him in for a tight hug, where his arms fell limp in a motherly embrace. There was no better moment to draw the hearts all around this stranger to the common world.

"I wish you had the time to visit me last year."

"Heh heh, it doesn't seem I had to. Mr. Goof here did a better job than what I'm qualified for!"

"Me?"

"Yep!" Sticking his tongue out in good humor, "You got a wonderful woman…"

Max was the only one to hear in on the rest of his sentence, "to replace your dear beloved wife."

His melody went sour on the last note.

"Gawrsh." It was Mr. Goof's turn to blush; Ms. Marpole took a cute hand to her lips and giggled.


"Dad," placing a hand over his father's, "Let's not tell her what he did," secretive whisper, "look at him…"

Brad glanced across the table and met the kid's eyes. He seemed a bit hurt, yet smiled nonetheless.

"Why do we need to have the whole world hate him?"


Sylvia wrung her hands in excitement, "Tell me, do you have any new sketches you'd like to share??"

A black dog nearly choked on the hot water as he was sipping it up.

"He's very good at figure drawing, Goofy."

"Fig—ur??"

-----

The four lounged around in the living room, occupying the loveseat, couch and armchair nearby. Bradley took the armchair like another throne, leaning forward in conversation.

Topics of interest were of the college life, graduation, and future endeavors.

The spastic jock never sounded more civilized in his known life, taking everything seriously and not spitting out any dialogue dripping of sarcasm or ill will. Goofy himself, arm wrapped around the librarian, pulled off a bit of a sophisticated image himself. Of course he'd delve into that familiar laugh. After all this time, living with Ms. Marpole, maybe he had some brains implanted by her in a secret lab. Maxie giggled at the sight of Sylvia in a white lab coat sporting long rubber gloves and dark goggles,

"Pull the lever, Tank!" (clank!) "Wrong lever!!"

"What's so funny, Max?" Bradley asked.

"Nothing, man," sitting up on the couch and bringing his knees up to his chest, "Just thinking." The senior's thick brows were raised, Man?


"I never did meet your dad, Mr. Uppercrust. How's he doing?"


A smile kept plastered over the young man's countenance, "Fine. Just fine."

"Where does he work at?"

"Office building."

The usual wordiness to his answers was cut down to size. Fingers resting on the arm dug into the faux leather. The glittering of those blue orbs suddenly went dull. The sophomore was the only one to notice, and bit his lip.

"Could you be more specific—what job he's taking?"

"Janitor." Both Goofy and the redhead blinked in astonishment. Uppercrust suddenly burst into laughter, "I'm kidding, sir! He's got a very high position there, white-collar job and everything!"

"Oh!" The funny dog nodded his head in understanding, "I bet you have a nice house—

"Oh yeah. It's paradise. Servants and everything." Bradley was either getting borderline ridiculous, or about to blow a fuse—

Goof Boy had to think of something fast, "Bradley—where will you go after you leave college?"

It sounded like a mere repeat of a question that Ms. Marpole had brought up earlier.

But the way he asked it sounded more like a child's plea for him to stay. His father picked up on the tone real quick, "What do you mean, Maxie? Everyone needs to fly the coop sometime. Like you said when you were leaving for college: I can't wait to get out of here."

A wave of guilt knocked the boy over; his friend was not impressed.

The atmosphere went cold. The senior crossed one leg over the other and sunk back into the cushion, aloof, taking a woven fist to the side of his face.

"I'm sorry," bit of a mumble.


"Goofy, honey." a peck on the cheek, "You know he's still young. He's only a boy."

Bradley chuckled, "I agree."

Another lump caught in this boy's throat. He just wanted to help. Running a nervous hand through raven hair, he got up and bid everyone a Good Night, peering at a ticking clock above the wall separating them from the kitchen,

"I'm gonna turn in. It's late—

"What's late to you?" Brad was scathing.

"Almost midnight." His dad got up and gave his son a loving embrace. Max didn't know whether to feel grateful or humiliated, "Good night, Maxie—you need help to make the bed? And, where's your friend going to sleep?" Some life came back to the gray orbs as the guest stood up,

"I'm going to sleep in his room. Right, Max?"

Both males smiled sheepishly, "Did you bring a sleeping bag?"

"That's the thing: I've never slept over."

"Uh," suddenly having to turn away when he felt a rush of blood to his cheeks, "there's a ton of blankets in the hallway closet. I can make you a cushion out of those and I'll get you a pillow or two. Loan you some pajamas—

"I brought my own, don't fret about it." Bradley returned to a positive charge.

Sylvia walked up to him and gave him a small kiss, setting the young man ablaze, "Good night, sweetie."

"Before we head upstairs, can you pet my head?" That disturbing image lit up again.

Max jerked at his collar and dragged him off the scene,

"She's not petting your head, playboy!"

Bradley stuttered, "B-b-but!"


… "He sure is a strange one, ain't he?"

-----

"You were so flirting with her, dude!"

"There's that word again! Since when did I become a part of your 'posse'?"

"Don't change the subject!" throwing a pillow at his face—

"Get your mind out of the gutter, kid!" swinging the weight full force, "oof!"

Bradley had a considerable downgrade in sleepwear. On some nights he'd be wearing the robe. On bad, the casual loose fit. And, on good, nothing at all.

Now he wore silk red pajamas, enveloping him in such a way that the ends of his sleeves dangled off his hands. All he needed was a chubbier face and he would be mistaken for a boy of 8! Max, in the usual tank top, saw through this disguise and tripped him up, letting him fall to the cushion of blankets piled on top of each other. Bradley whimpered as he felt himself being pinned down, "You've gotten cuter already."  If Goof had a tail, it was wagging up a storm.


… "It's not the best idea to try and pull this off at your own house."


"And why not? I thought you were the one who found the possibility of getting caught exciting."

Brad shook his head, "Not here." He gulped. The dominant canine looked him over, then went in for a kiss, "Just one. I promise."

The boy wanted to stay there forever, wrapping his legs and arms around his guest—The senior petted his hair and pecked him on the forehead, "Time's up."

He nodded, and stood up—"I can sleep on the floor; you can borrow my bed—

"No, it's fine… Say, what's that?"

A long finger pointed towards the corner of the room, at a stuffed animal perched on top of some linen. "Nothing!" blocking the view which the other peered around, "It's not mine!"

"Well sure it is, unless you got a baby cousin." Maximilian put his head down in shame and put a hand behind his sore neck, letting him take a look, "Aw, it's cute. Now it's mine."

"Huh?" The college student now sounded like a school grader.

"It's mine and you can't have it." Sticking his tongue out before smiling, "Teddy!" holding the polyester stuffing close, "It smells just like my 'Maxie'!"


"My teddy."

-----

The lights were off; Goof Boy couldn't sleep. Too many lustful thoughts coincided with more important issues that he felt he had to bring up. It was around 2 in the morning again—

"psst! Bradley!" hanging off the side of his bed and shaking the man's shoulders,

"Mmmh…" tiny yawn, "Wha—Oh Max I was just about to enter a stage of unconsciousness." The teddy bear was guarded by his strong arms.

"Bradley… don't you want to try it now? My dad sleeps like a rock."

"Pfft!" blowing strands of dusty brown hair from his face, "And explain to Mr. Goof why the sheets are covered with slime. Very smart, Max—you should get an award."

The other laughed nervously before clearing his throat, "Speaking of which, why do you hate your 'old man'?"

Heavy silence.


Finally opening his mouth, "Max. Your father's a good man. You should be proud. Not shameful."

"Is yours a bad man?" He slid out of the covers and sat down on the cushion, running a caring hand through his friend's hair…

"No. He's not evil, if that's what you meant. He's just…" The young man curled up in fetal position, "kinda tough on me, that's all."

"Kinda like PJ, huh?" Until now Uppercrust's back was toward him; now he was peering up at the younger dog's face, "Hm?"

"His dad's kinda, well.. For a while he wouldn't me and Peej hang out because I was a Goof—'you'll get their germs, see??'"

Bradley giggled, relieved he wasn't pressing on getting answers. "So, I can catch cooties from you?"


Even real tired, he listened attentively to Max Goof's high-spun tales of burglars, car dealerships, camping, fishing, crazy fathers and their occasional rivalry, cute babes… skateboarding and some pharaoh…

Like a mother reading a bedtime story to her child… It was the safest Bradley had felt in a long time, right in the bedroom of his once sworn enemy's house.


Max nearly fell asleep next to him. Realizing where he was, he crawled up back into his bed and buried himself under the comforter. Now he didn't know what to do next.


It began to dawn on him that Bradley Uppercrust wanted more from him than he could ever give. He didn't know how… and he didn't seem to be the one qualified for the job, either.


END OF PART 2-- But there's more to read!