Brady & Bledsoe (3/4) by Boston Beth
DISCLAIMER: Although this is based on actual events, the following story is complete fiction. I do not work for the New England Patriots, Buffalo Bills, or the National Football League. The true sexual orientations of Drew Bledsoe and Tom Brady are not known to me. I don't own them and have no desire to do so. I am not being financially compensated for this.
A/N: If you've been reading this, thanks so much for your patience. If this is your first time reading this, welcome. This chapter will not be in the POV's of the characters but told more like a story. I am still trying to improve my writing, and there will be an extended dialogue--I hope it does not come off as slow-moving or boring. Enjoy!
Tom tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the long-forgotten Def Leppard song on the radio. The beat was just rocking enough for him to take a temporary escape. Some fairly heavy traffic surrounded him. Motorists kept one eye on the signal while they cranked their necks to see if that was really him. But Tom was blocking them all out.
The light turned red and he sped north. When he went to Revere, Tom liked to watch the scenery unfold and change along with the ride. He desperately wanted some time to himself. Soon enough he had trips to take and scenes to make.
The Boston area was so different from Michigan. Aside from the occasional trip to the lakes, he was landlocked. Sometimes he really missed California. It offered easy access to the sea and the beach, things he loved since forever. Smelling and feeling the crisp air and gently powerful waves had a healing effect on him. That was what he needed. And he was fortunate enough to be easily accessible to it, and feel closer to home.
He drove down the street. The neighborhood looked different than what he knew in his youth, pretty houses full of lush green lawns. Here, some of the houses were run- down, with little patches of grass in front barely bigger than boxes apartment dwellers use for windowsill gardens. Other, slightly better looking houses had large front yards lined with shovels and sleds waiting for the snow that hadn't made its first appearance yet. Then there were the fish stores presenting a wish for summer in the way of fresh lobsters and other delicious seafood. Tom ignored the Dunkin Donuts and the psychic's home. He hit the intersection and felt relief. Before he knew it he was riding along the beach.
He parked his car on the street. There was just one other car there. So I'm not the only die-hard, thought Tom. He climbed over a low wall that separated the sidewalk and sand. Tom walked until he was as close as he could get to the ocean.
It was the middle of the day, so the sea was at rest, just making slight ripples. The sun was strong, a welcome contrast to the increased chill. For a second Tom considered taking off his shoes and socks and digging his feet in the sand. Then he thought better and just imagined it. He was alone. He put his arms around his torso. Even with all of his layers of clothing, the below 25 degree temperature still cut through his body. The sky was a bright, stunning blue; it was the only indication that day that soon the thawing would begin. Tom breathed in the good, salty air and recognized the promise of better things to come that it held. He hoped so.
This state of celebrity, Tom began to realize, was a misleading power. He liked the taste of it. But a quiet time like this gave him a place to put it in perspective so that it didn't end up tasting like poison. He felt revived spiritually. He felt like he could handle anything. He felt like plain old Tom.
All of a sudden, Tom sensed he wasn't alone. He looked away from the water and around. He saw him.
"And I thought I was the only one who liked the beach in winter."
Drew's voice was flat and chilly like the weather. He was bundled up and still shivering. He looked like he hadn't slept in months, all tired and agitated.
"Drew." Tom expressed great surprise, but didn't want to seem too surprised. He wasn't sure why.
"Tom." Drew gave a slight nod.
"I have to say, this is the last place I expected to see you." said Tom.
Drew's expression didn't change. "I can appreciate all this. I like coming here when it's deserted. No one's making noise or invading your space. You can gather your thoughts more easily. Get back in touch with yourself."
Tom nodded an understanding. "But I thought you went to Montana." Tom said.
"That's what I told everyone." Drew dropped to the sand and sat with his legs straight out. "So that everyone would leave me alone. Not just the other players. The press, the fans, those damn TV cameras. The whole lot of you." There was an edge to Drew's voice that was completely unfamiliar to Tom, even in Drew's worst moments. At least at practice he feigned some happiness. Here he was cautionary and aggravated, like something bad was going to happen to someone.
"Well, I was hoping you would show up, Drew." said Tom, his mood warm mingling with cold. The weather and being close to Drew caused it.
Drew shrugged it off. "Well I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't feel like being a hero."
"It's not about being a hero, Drew." Tom looked at him. "It's about being part of the team."
"I had a lot of things to think about regarding the team." Drew practically spat out the last word.
"Anything you want to talk about?" Tom's sense of guilt surfaced for no reason he could think of.
Drew studied Tom's face, a trace of an appealing na‹vet‚ in his eyes. Such a sweet boy, thought Drew. Even when I'm angry he never returns it. I wonder how sweet he would taste. Drew's bitterness was tempered with these thoughts of Tom.
Suddenly Drew interrupted the quiet. "Let's talk at my place." he said.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You want to go to Medfield to talk? Won't your wife be there?"
Drew shook his head. He brought his legs together. "No. I have another place. It's an apartment in Boston, for when I tell Laurie I'm going away with the guys." Drew's smile suggested more than his words did.
Tom nodded, not realizing the words contained shadows. "Fine with me." he said.
"I'll drive." Drew said.
They got up, brushed the sand off their clothes, and walked to Drew's car. He extracted the remote from his pocket. With the press of a button the locks went up, and it was the only sound they heard. It was a dark blue Mercedes sedan. Tom found it to be comfortable, very spacious for his 6'4" body.
Drew turned it on. "Just one thing." he said.
"What's that?" asked Tom.
"You're not one of those straight guys who don't like the South End, are you?"
Tom was caught completely off guard. "Uh, no, of course not. It's a nice area." But he couldn't imagine Drew there. ********************************************
They drove into Boston in the height of the afternoon hustle on Massachusetts Avenue. They passed Symphony Hall and the Christian Science church and the various Asian joints. Finally they reached Columbus Avenue and a dark-red brick building, a row of apartments. Drew parked his car on the street.
"I'm sorry I don't have anything in the house for lunch. There's a nice caf‚ just a couple of blocks away, though. You want to get something there? My treat." Although Drew didn't seem any happier, he seemed calmer.
"Okay." Tom said. They walked to the caf‚ and ate sandwiches, unrecognized, as they looked out the window and at the streets. Just a few years ago, the South End was dirty, crime-ridden, and a cheap place in which to live. Now it was, for the most part, one of the hippest and most expensive areas of Boston. It had many popular restaurants, lively art galleries, and a predominately gay male population. That last detail was a big reason for the area's revival. Tom observed male couples walking and talking. They showed no outward displays of affection, yet he could tell by the way they walked together, the way they looked at each other, that a deeper relationship existed. Tom wondered if he would ever be able to walk on the street like that. Maybe when he was old, retired, and not as pretty.
Then he thought about walking with Drew. What if others on the street recognized them? What would they think? It thrilled him a little. He wondered what Drew's purpose was in taking him to this place. He stifled any excitement.
Tom and Drew returned to the apartment. It was nice, sparsely decorated and looked like it hadn't been used in ages, probably because Drew was hardly there. Drew led Tom on a tour that ended in the living room. An oak coffee table stood in the middle of the floor. There was a cozy dark green couch and tasteful Oriental rugs.
Drew walked to the wall and tried to turn on the thermostat. "Aaaah, it's out!" he said. "And on the coldest day of the year, of course. I'm sorry, Tom."
"It's okay, Drew. It's not too cold in here." Tom replied.
"I'll put on a pot of coffee." said Drew. "Be right back."
Drew walked into the kitchen and Tom sat down on the couch. He looked at the table and was shocked to see several copies of The Advocate-a gay and lesbian newsmagazine--neatly arranged on it. He picked one up and glanced at the headline. It was a feature story about gays in the military. Wasn't that hot ten years ago, thought Tom. He did like the handsome solider on the cover. He was tall, brown-haired and wore a half-frown, much like Drew.
Just then Drew returned with two large mugs of coffee. Tom was startled.
"Interesting reading?" asked Drew.
"Er, um.Drew, can I ask a very stupid question?" asked Tom, not sure of how to ask it.
Drew smiled. "I think I know what it is. And the answer is yes. You surprised at all?" asked Drew, noticing Tom's interest in the magazine.
Tom wasn't sure what to say. He was still hesitant about telling too much about himself. "Well yes, of course I am." He put down the Advocate. "I had no idea."
"Frankly, I'm surprised the word never got around." Drew mentioned this as he sat down, taking careful movements. He offered one mug to Tom, who took it gladly.
"I guess you did a good job of keeping it a secret." Tom called, feeling faintly anxious.
"Fortunately, the men I've been with have been more interested in talking to me than to the press. I've been pretty damn lucky." He took a hearty sip. "Good thing, too. Can you imagine everybody's reaction if they found out? All those talk show callers would have one more stupid thing to complain about." Drew put on an exaggerated Boston accent. "Ah geez, the team had too many fumbles last week and Bledsoe's a fag!"
Tom couldn't help but laugh. He got more nervous as Drew seemed more relaxed.
"I watched the parade yesterday, from here." said Drew, suddenly changing the subject.
"What did you think?" asked Tom.
"It looked like fun." said Drew with a shrug. Drew looked at Tom while he sipped. "So how was it being a participant?"
Tom weighed his response. He wished he could tell Drew how much the cheers of the fans warmed him, validated what he did that Sunday. How much the camaraderie with his teammates kept him energized. How much more he would have truly understood the sweetness of victory had Drew been there to drink it in with him.
"It was pretty overwhelming." Tom said slowly. "There were over a million people there, Drew."
Drew made a low whistle. "I've never heard of a bigger turnout for a sports rally."
"Yeah, neither have I." Tom settled into the couch. "I'm telling you, I thought it got cold in Michigan! The wind was whipping around so strong, I got a terrible headache!"
"Yeah, it was pretty brutal. Good thing it didn't snow." Drew put the mug on the table and leaned back on the couch. He tried to keep himself from draping an arm around Tom. "I find it pretty amazing that anybody would go out in weather like that, especially for the Patriots."
Tom thought that Drew sounded more jealous than before and now in this private space he wasn't making any attempts to hide it.
"It was fun, Drew. A lot of fun." Tom just said it to let him know, not to convince him he'd make a mistake by skipping the festivities.
"That's good to hear." Drew unbuttoned the sweater he was wearing over his shirt. He removed it and placed it neatly to his side. "Kraft looked like a real geek up there."
Tom giggled. "He sure did."
"I hear you caused quite a commotion with the girls."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. You wouldn't believe it. They were throwing papers at me. I thought it was just confetti or something, right? It's their phone numbers! Do you believe it!" Tom began laughing while Drew shook his head.
"And they were like, flashing me! It's 25 below out and they're just whipping them out like it was no big deal."
"Hmm. You must've enjoyed that." said Drew. He thought of seeing Tom blush and how cute he thought Tom looked like that.
"Nah. That stuff doesn't turn me on." Tom said it in a way that he hoped wouldn't make him sound suspicious.
Drew didn't think anything strange about what Tom said. It fit with his humble personality. "What did you do with the phone numbers?" Drew asked, genuinely curious.
Tom leaned in close to Drew, as if he were going to reveal a deeply-held secret among a crowd. He remained calm, not wishing to show Drew that he was getting excited to be so close to him. "I took as many as I could, right?" he said in a stage whisper. "I stuck them into Vinateri's jacket pockets when he wasn't looking. Imagine the look on his wife's face when she does the laundry!"
Drew didn't react at first. Slowly a smile appeared. It was followed by laughter that was loud and hard, like it was the first time it had passed Drew's lips.
"You didn't man." Drew said.
"I did!" Tom's eyes shone with joy at seeing Drew happy.
"Why?"
"I don't know! I just felt like it."
"I gotta admit, that's pretty sneaky to get Adam into trouble like that." Drew drank some more coffee. "Pretty funny, too. I've never known you to be such a prankster, Tom. Boy, I'm learning something new about you today."
Tom shifted his legs. A wave of what felt like nausea surfaced briefly. "I guess I'm learning new things about you, too."
"Like the fact that I like guys?"
"Uhm, not just that. I guess. Drew, I didn't really want to bring this up. I'd kind of like to, though."
"About.everything that happened. The whole affair."
"Yeah. I guess I've learned that I thought you handled things one way and not the other."
"What do you mean?"
"Drew.do you have something against me? Really, I want to know if you do."
"No. No, I don't have anything against you." said Drew.
Tom had put one foot in the room, was hesitant to enter, but decided to go on. "Drew, I'm really sorry that things turned out how they did. I know that there's been some tension between us. Now, I don't know whether it's something that we created or what the press created, but I need to know if I did it and what I can do to make it right."
Drew folded his hands solemnly. "Do you have any idea how everything that's happened has affected me?" he asked.
"I can't say I can really understand, Drew. Only you know how your mind works. But I don't think it was right of you to be so angry towards me or anyone else. I mean, for you not to show up.I don't mean to sound rude but it was pretty disrespectful to the team."
"Why don't you try being this close to death and then you tell me how cheerful and giddy you were." Drew said this while trying to penetrate Tom's stare.
"I'm not saying it's inappropriate to be angry at that!" Tom's voice rose unintentionally. "But you never got over it. You never got over anything. You let it affect how you handled your relationship with us, with me. I consider you a friend and, I guess, a hero. As silly as it sounds, I was disappointed."
Drew liked this mix of childlike admiration and anger. So much to learn still, he thought. Where and when did I lose that innocence?
"Heroes don't have all the answers, Tommy. What's a hero anyway? It's just someone who's got a little better luck to be in a little better position than the next guy. You can't take it so seriously. And looking back on things, I guess I did."
Drew crossed his legs. He was impressed with Tom's anger. It turned him on and he really didn't want Tom to know that right now. "It had to do with control, Tom. I had no control."
"What do you mean?"
"When the starting position was taken from me, I thought I had nothing. All my life, I couldn't make decisions completely on my own. Where to go to school, when practice was, whatever. That wasn't always bad, you know. But I was always happiest in the game. I liked calling the shots in the game. You want to know why, Tom?"
"Yes, I would." Tom said, anxious to unravel this mystery.
"Because I had no control in my personal life." Drew drank some more coffee. "Do you know Tom, that the only reason I got married was because they told me to?"
"Who's they?"
"The coach, management. They said it would look better to the fans if I could be seen as a good family man."
"I see." said Tom. Now it had occurred to him that one day, he might slip up somewhere. One day, they might figure out what made him like Drew. They would probably want the same thing from him. Was it inevitable?
"So, I got caught up. Way, way caught up in the whole idea of being the man in charge. I had self-worth as a quarterback. On the sidelines, I'm of no worth."
Tom wondered if Drew was in pain right now. He made himself stay seated. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think you were. Maybe you don't know how much you've meant to me. Every time I went on that field, I wanted to be just like you. Now I'm a pretty good quarterback, Drew. But I'm a long way off from being as outstanding as you are. You set the goals for the teams, goals that everyone wants to meet. Maybe.maybe somewhere in your mind, there's something that's preventing you from understanding this. But you are a big reason for our success. Why do you keep-devaluing yourself?"
"Because I couldn't see beyond my anger, I guess. When you can't have what you want, it infuriates you. And when you can't do something you've always been able to do, you begin to doubt whether you're still good. Or if you were ever any good in the first place."
"Well, I can understand that." Tom said.
"You see, I'm gonna tell you something. Not being able to do what you want makes life harder. It can be pretty frustrating. Whether it's on the field or in bed, it's all connected." Drew took a breath. To finally be able to articulate the essence of his problems felt as good as a hard spray of water in the middle of summer.
Drew looked right at Tom. "Tom, I was wrong. I should have been at the parade."
"Drew, it sounds like you did what you felt you had to do. You can't change what you did. I'm just glad it wasn't anything to do with me. I really thought you had something against me."
Drew cracked another rare smile. "Never. Tom, I am proud that I could see the player you're becoming and how you've matured. You're so centered, Tom. Don't lose it, especially with the women."
Tom decided it was time. He couldn't suppress a laugh. "Drew, you're not really good at reading signals, are you?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Drew.
"Drew, think about it. Everyone tries to play me up as some swinging bachelor. But I didn't want any of those phone numbers. Every story about me practically screams about how much I love women. But have you ever heard me talk about women? Any woman?"
"No, I can't say I have." said Drew, still not getting it.
"Why could that be, Drew?" Tom sat back, smiled, and waited for the light to shine on Drew.
Drew's face turned from defeat to realization. "Oh my-Tom! You?" he almost shouted. Tom nodded his head.
"You're kidding me. You're absolutely kidding me!" Drew smiled. "Then who was that woman, that publicist you were seeing?"
Tom smiled back. "She was a really, really good sport. You really had no idea?"
"Not a clue." said Drew, glad to know that the common ground he and Drew shared was larger than he thought.
From this was their conversation for the next several hours. They talked about the difficulties in finding love in the homophobic environs of the NFL, if they would ever be so lucky to find it, how to keep it, and that happiness was never elusive for long.
"I wonder what the scene's like in Buffalo." Drew said, changing the subject.
"What makes you say that?" asked Tom.
"I think that's where I'm playing next season." Drew spoke as if it was a hard, unchangeable fact.
Tom's euphoria slowly faded. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's pretty quiet right now, but from what management's been telling me, there's a trade in the works and I am the main bait."
Tom became more uneasy at the idea of this mended relationship not having a chance to strengthen. "I'll miss working with you."
Drew gave him a smile. "Me too." He caught Tom's unwielding gaze. I'm glad we ran into each other."
"It was good to talk to you, Drew."
"I agree. Just sitting down, relaxing, talking like we used to, without all the bull coming between us."
For the moment Tom's nerves were silenced. There was nothing he could do about the future, and all they could do was take heart in the present.
Drew put his hands on his knees. He turned to look at Tom. "Did you ever think about." Drew retracted his voice.
"Think about what?" asked Tom. He had moved closer to Drew. Their knees could touch if they wanted to. Tom's breathing hit Drew's cheek faintly, warmly.
Drew stared into Tom's inviting green eyes. "If only I had known sooner. If I had known about you sooner. We could have made a nice team, I think." Drew gave Tom the ball.
Tom ran with it. "There's still time." Tom spoke with the quiet determination of someone who had waited patiently for something that floated in an air of unreachableness and, by some miracle, fell to earth.
There was no fanfare, no slick or clever moves on either man's part. It was the simple, wonderful act of two men embracing. Slowly, shyly, Drew's mouth crept onto Tom's. The impact of tongues was soft. They kissed and gladly shared breaths. They were of the same mind to simultaneously remove their heavy sweaters.
They looked at each other. Tom was wearing a black t- shirt, Drew's was green. They admired what the tight shirts featured, their lovely disguised musculature, and looked for hints of what was to be revealed.
"Come to think of it, I still have a lot to learn." Tom's eyes spoke a wordless command.
"So in other words, I can still show you some valuable lessons." said Drew.
"That's the way I see it."
Drew took Tom's hand and helped him up.
"Remember that little tour of the apartment I gave you? I think there was one room we should have spent some more time in."
The room was not cold anymore. Now it simmered. ***************************************************** Hmmmm, this is getting interesting. Off topic, I just read that Drew's house in Medfield is for sale, 20 rooms, a mere 9 million dollars. OK, time to open those checkbooks (ha- ha).
Next up: sex! (And now that I have your attention, please look out for more new stories from me. Coming soon (no pun intended)
**Red Sox Go to Bed (Derek Lowe/Nomar Garciaparra) **'Canes Take a Backseat (Ron Francis/Bates Battaglia from the NHL's Carolina Hurricanes) **A still-untitled story featuring Shayne Corson & Darcy Tucker from the NHL's Toronto Maple Leafs **An all-new and improved version of Pucks and Bodyslams(WWE- NHL crossover) **I was also thinking of doing a Mike Piazza/Jason Giambi story. If anyone's interested in that let me know. **If you are a wrestling fan, please also check out my most recent WWE stories In the House & A Jeff and Rob Story
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