Kyle, Part 3

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: This story is a continuation of the story of Kevin Foley, Rick Mashburn, and their "sons," Tim Murphy, Kyle Goodson, Justin Davis, and Brian Mathews that started in "Tim," continued in "Justin" and "Kyle," "Kyle, Part 2," and now continues in "Kyle, Part 3."  It is about gay men and gay boys living and loving together as a family, and it contains descriptions of sex.  The sex is never intergenerational, though.  If you are offended by descriptions of gay sex, or if the law in your area forbids you to read them, please exit the story.  Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.  I appreciate feedback, and you can send it to me at brew_drinker23@yahoo.com.

--Brew Maxwell

(Kevin's Perspective)

Mardi Gras was February 12th, so that meant we had to leave home after school on Friday, the 8th.  The caravan was the same as it had been at Christmas, only Gene had a much better sense of where to stop at mid-course for a potty break and what to do when we got to New Orleans.  The seven of us were in our big Bronco, and Gene, Rita, and George were in Gene's Cadillac.  It was actually Rita's car, but Gene was driving.

Craig and Cherie were at my parents' house when we got there Friday night, just as I had expected them to be.  It was around nine o'clock, and I could tell Craig had already been to the bar once or twice.  They hugged us and kissed us something fierce, and we all went inside to a very nice spread of food.  Somebody--Odille, I suspected--had made about ten different hors d'ouevres for the table.  We had gone through a fast-food drive-thru around six that night, but everybody was hungry by the time we got there.  Craig did the honors with the drinks, with the help of Kyle, and they passed them among us. 

Rick was funny to me about drinking.  He was definitely not opposed to drinking on any moral or political or social grounds.  When we first started dating, he would have a drink or two before dinner.  He made drinks for me on occasion, at parties or even at home, but he was no longer in the "drinker" column.

"I've been drunk a few times, Kevin, and I don't ever want to do that again.  So why should I waste that many calories on a couple of drinks?  Two drinks don't do it for me," he had said.  "I need four or more before I feel anything.  That's way too many calories for a feeling that doesn't do me much good, anyway."

"Do you resent it that I drink," I had asked.

"How can you ask that?  I don't resent anything about you or what you do, Kevin, and you know that.  Please don't ever have those kinds of doubts about me again, okay?"

I chuckled and kissed him.

"You can be the designated driver from now on," I said.

"I fully intend to be.  I want you to have a good time, and I'll have a good time, too.  But without drinking.  It's just not me anymore."

That conversation had taken place during our second year together, and it had become our standard.  He sometimes had a glass or two of wine at a big dinner, but that was it for him.  On those occasions, I had the feeling he was really only tasting the wine as part of the chef's plan for the meal.

"So, what does the parade schedule look like," Rick asked, once we all had plates of food and were sitting in the den.

"Tomorrow night's Endymion," Craig said.

"Cool," I said.

"It's one of the super krewes.  The Endymion Extravaganza will be in the Super Dome after the parade.  Cherie and I went the last two years.  It's a super krewe's answer to a ball.  Do you guys know about balls," Craig asked.

"We know quite a bit about balls," Justin said.

It took a second, but the entire room burst into laughter.

"Not that kind of balls, Bubba," Craig said, laughing hard.

"Just my luck," Justin said in total deadpan.

Of course everybody laughed after that line, too.

"Justin, your sense of humor reminds me of my grandfather," Gene said.

"Why?  Did he like balls, too?"

Gene howled with laughter, as did most of us.  Those who didn't howl, laughed hard.

"Justin, you're hilarious," Gene said.  "I'm promoting your ass as soon as we get home."

"It's been promoted before, Gene," Jus said.

Gene and the rest of the adults looked stricken when he said that.  The kids saw it for the pun it was, and they laughed.  Then the adults knew it was okay, and they laughed as well.

"Justin, I never meant . . ."

"Mister Gene, I know what you meant.  That was a sick pun on my part, and I'm sorry I said that.  I took advantage of it for a laugh from my brothers, which I got."

"Son, I never want to hurt your feelings," Gene said.

"He doesn't have any feelings," Kyle said.  

If we had been at home, that would have been the moment when Kyle would have punched him or groped him hard to prove his point.  That night, though, he behaved himself.

"The only thing I've ever known in this family is love," Jus said.  "These guys, and especially your son, tease me about anything and everything, and they've never hurt my feelings.  Except Rick, of course."

The kids and I screamed with laughter, but the others weren't exactly sure how to take that line.

"I'm just teasing," Jus said.  "Rick has never hurt my feelings.  He's not clever enough."

More laughter, only that time everybody joined in.

"What is this?  Pick on Rick night," Rick asked.

"It has been, but we're going to switch to Craig now," Jus said.

Again, more laughter.

"What are we going to do tomorrow," Craig asked, obviously changing the subject.

"I thought we were going to the parade," Kyle said.

"We are," I said.  "Endymion is a night parade, though.  Craig meant during the day.  Aren't there any day parades tomorrow?"

"Yeah, there are two pretty good ones.  Iris and Tucks.  They start around noon," he said.

"Well, let's go to those.  Where are we going to be?  Your office," I asked."

"Cherie's office," Craig said.  "It's right on St. Charles, about two blocks from Gallier Hall.  By the way, we have some tickets for the stands for Tuesday.  It's just four, but we can take turns if y'all want to."

"Craig, they don't know what you and Kevin are talking about.  How about some explanation, boys," Mom said.

"Oh, right," Craig said.

I said, "One of the great drawbacks to Mardi Gras is having someplace to go to the bathroom.  The city puts out Port-O-Let portable toilets, but there are always long lines, and the things themselves are usually filthy.  The smart people--the lucky ones, really--know somebody who has an office downtown.  Those offices provide a place to rest and a place to keep your stuff, like food and jackets and other necessities, but most of all, they provide restrooms.  And we're all fixed up, thanks to Miss Cherie."

"Oh, thank you, Cherie," Rita said.  "I've heard it can be quite abominable."

"It can be, Rita," Cherie said.  "The location of the office on a major parade route was one of the reasons I decided to go to work for this law firm."

Everybody laughed.

"You think she's kidding," Craig asked.

"My God, you people take this Mardi Gras stuff pretty seriously, don't you," George said.  "What is Gallier Hall, Craig?"

"It's actually the old city hall building from like a hundred years ago.  It's a big classical affair, and that's where the mayor's reviewing stands are.  On Carnival Day, the mayor and other dignitaries are there, and he reads a proclamation turning over the city to Rex, the King of Mardi Gras, for the day.  The stands there are usually considered the best seats in the house, but it's a lot more fun on the street.  The ones at the Boston Club are good, too, George.  That's on Canal Street.  You might know somebody there."

"The mayor turns the city over to Rex," Gene asked.

"Well, not literally, of course.  Rex then declares the day a holiday for all city workers, except essential services, like fire and police and emergency medical people.  The only law that day is that people have to have fun," Craig said.

"This is so cool," Kyle said.  "Why do they have this, anyway?"

"You don't know," I asked.

"Not really," he said.

"Kyle, you know what Lent is, right?"

"Yeah.  It's the weeks before Easter when you're supposed to give up stuff you like, right?"

"Close enough," I said.  "Mardi Gras literally means 'Fat Tuesday' in French.  'Mardi' is the French word for Tuesday, and 'Gras' means 'fat.'"

"I thought gros was the French word for 'fat.'  That's been confusing to me," Jeff said.

"Yes, Jeff, gros is the word for 'fat,' in the sense of large or bulky.  Large, mostly," my dad said.  "Gras means the fat itself, as in meat with fat on it.  It can also mean 'rich,' as in rich food, or 'fatty.'  In the old days, it was the last day you could eat 'fat meat' before Lent."

"This is pretty confusing," Kyle said.

"Kyle, what Mardi Gras really means to you is 'party your ass off,'" Rick said.

"Now see, that I understand," he said.  We all laughed.

"Guys, a lot of people wear costumes on Carnival Day," Craig said.  "You'll see some unbelievable costumes, in fact.  Some people work on them all year long."

"Are we going to wear costumes," Tim asked.

"We didn't bring any, son," George said.

"Tim, it's fun to wear a costume, or to 'mask,' as they say here, but they're also a real pain.  For one thing, you never know what the weather is going to be like," Cherie said.  "Some years, like this year, the weather is great.  Other years it's bitterly cold.  Let's say you decided you wanted to be an Indian wearing just a loin cloth as your costume.  Then, on Carnival Day, it's in the twenties.  There goes your costume."

"Do people wear costumes for all the parades," Brian asked.

"No, just on Tuesday.  That's Carnival Day," Cherie said.

"Some of you call it Mardi Gras, and some of you call it Carnival Day.  What's the difference," Justin asked.

"There is no difference, Jus," my mother said.  "Those are just two terms for the same thing.  Mardi Gras is this coming Tuesday, but Carnival Season started January 6th.  That's King's Day.  Do you know what that is?"

"No, ma'am.  Kyle and I are the dumb ones, remember?"

"Yeah, right," Rick said sarcastically.  "Dumb like a fox."

"Okay, we're not so dumb, but we don't know about King's Day," Jus said.  "At least I don't."

"It's the day the Magi, or the three kings, visited the Baby Jesus in the manger in Bethlehem.  Some people in New Orleans call it 'Little Christmas,' and that's the day in Europe they exchange Christmas presents in some countries," Mom said.

"They give two sets of presents," Jus asked.

"My, this is pretty complicated, isn't it," Mom said.

"Yes, but I'm learning so much, Beth.  Please keep on," Rita said.

"Boys, there are really three days when different European cultures exchange gifts.  December 6th, which is the Feast of St. Nicholas, Christmas day, and King's Day," she said.

"Is that why they call Santa Claus Jolly Old St. Nick," Justin asked.

"Exactly, Jus," Mom said.

"He's my favorite saint.  That boy smokes," Justin said.

Everybody laughed, and Justin and Kyle knocked their fists together.

"On that note,  I think it's time for a bathroom break," Mom said.  She was so great.  She knew Craig and I wanted to smoke, but she would never have acknowledged that we did.  I was pretty sure she knew Justin and Kyle smoked, too.

Craig, Justin, Kyle, Tim, Brian, and I went out into the back yard.  Tim and Brian didn't smoke, but the rest of us lit up.

"This is unbelievable, man," Kyle said to Craig.  "This is so much fun.  Thanks for bringing us, Kevin."

The other boys echoed him.

"Kevin, I love your parents," Brian said.  "They're so nice."

"Yeah, and they're fun, too," Kyle said.  "I'm so excited right now I could just about jump out of my skin."

"Yeah, but you're doing good, Bubba.  You're not getting on anybody's nerves," Justin said.

"You guys have to promise to tell me if I start to get on people's nerves, okay," Kyle said.

"What are you talking about?  You don't get on anybody's nerves," Craig said.

"Yes, I do, Craig.  I try not to, but sometimes I forget and get carried away."

"Kyle, you're fun to be around, man.  I love to see somebody who's excited about happy stuff."

"I told him the same thing, Craig.  But you just wait till he starts jumping up and down in your lap, crushing your balls," Justin said.

We all laughed at what Justin had said, but Craig totally lost it and laughed his ass off.  

"Do you guys carry on like this all the time at home?"

"Yeah.  Pretty much," Jus said.

"Unbelievable, baby brother," Craig said to me.  He envied us, and I knew it.

Back inside we got fresh plates of food.  Craig replenished everybody's drinks, too.

"Grandma, tell us some more about all those times to give Christmas presents," Brian said.

"Well, different cultures give gifts on one of those three days.  Not all three, though," she said.

"Tell us again what that has to do with Mardi Gras," Justin said.

"The Carnival Season, or the Mardi Gras Season, officially begins on King's Day, and we celebrate it with a special cake, called a King Cake," she said.  "In fact, there's a King Cake cut up on the table in there."

"I thought that was coffee cake, Grandma," Kyle said.

"It's very much like a coffee cake, Craig.  Only. . .sorry, I meant to say Kyle."

Craig, Kyle, and Cherie all lit up in huge grins when she said that.  Kyle was sitting on the floor in front of Craig, and Craig kicked him a pretty good one in his butt.  Kyle put his right hand on the toe of Craig's shoe, and he leaned on it hard.  Craig let out a little noise in pain.

My mother noticed what was going on, but I didn't think anybody else did.  She smiled at their foolishness.

"Yes, it is very much like a coffee cake, only it has a little plastic statue of Baby Jesus in it.  The tradition is that somebody has a King Cake party on King's Day or close to it, and they cut the cake into as many pieces as there are people at the party.  Whoever gets the piece with Baby Jesus becomes the King, if it's a man, or the Queen, if it's a woman.  The King or Queen chooses someone to be his or her partner.  They have to give the next King Cake party the next week.  They invite all the people at that party, plus anyone else they want to include.  It's really quite a nice tradition," Mom said.

"I think we need to do that next year," Justin said.  

"That's something to think about," I said.

"Did you cut up your cake in as many pieces as there are people here tonight," Kyle asked.

"As a matter of fact, I did, Cr . . . Kyle.  Why do I want to call you Craig?"

"'Cause they're two of a kind, that's why, Grandma," Justin said.  "Two badasses in a perfect row."

"Let's all get a piece of cake," Kyle said.  "We'll see who the king or queen's going to be."

"Rick's already the queen.  You know that," Jus said.

"Too, true," Rick said, lisping and waving a limp wrist.

I thought my dad was going to keel over, he was laughing so hard.  We went into the dining room and each got a piece of cake.  George got the piece with the Baby Jesus in it, and he chose my mom as his queen.  We joked and laughed and celebrated being family for another hour or so, and then we all went to bed.  Rick and Kyle organized a kitchen crew to put the food away, and we ate that stuff, plus a lot more that Odille made the next morning, all weekend.  

(George's Perspective)

I had heard about Mardi Gras all my life, of course, but I had never been to it before.  I had done some research on the Web about it, and there were a million Web sites.  I had read about the tradition of the mayor turning over the city to Rex, the Lord of Misrule, and it reminded me of the Lord of Misrule in Boston, Cardinal Bernard Law.  That scandal shook me to the roots of my faith, but, after weeks of thinking about it and praying about it, I finally decided I still wanted to be a Catholic.  The accusations against homosexuals like my precious boys infuriated me.  I knew they were sexually active, but their love for one another was pure and good and wholesome.  How dare Law and other churchmen condemn homosexuality in public and sanction, condone, and promote it in private.  Especially when what they did in private was a crime.

I had been dating Sonya for several weeks, and we had become intimate.  I had wanted her to come with us to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but she had refused.  It's not that I don't want to go, because I do, she had said.  It's just too soon.

She had met Beth and Cherie and Rita at Brian's birthday party, and she had really liked them.  Rita was still a bit fragile after Clay's death, but the other two women were strong and certainly capable of holding their own in any company, just as Sonya was.  I respected her decision, of course.  I was, above all, a gentleman, but I still wished she had come with us.

She loved Tim, which only made me happy, and she loved Kyle, too.  He and Tim were a lot alike in many ways, but there was a quality to Kyle that seemed grown up, much more than Tim was.  Tim had an innocence about him that was almost child-like.  Kyle didn't have the same kind of innocence, but he wasn't a worldly tough guy, either.  He was a strange one.  But I knew that Tim loved him and that they were very happy in their relationship.  What more could a parent want for his son?

(Justin's Perspective)

We had an awesome time Friday night when we first got there.  After I'd gotten to know Kevin's and Rick's parents, I knew why those two guys were as good as they were.  I honestly didn't have any idea what it was like to be part of a family and to be around people who loved one another so much like they did.  

We had some more good food that night, and ole Craig hooked us boys up with some drinks, at least Kyle and me.  I know he didn't give Brian any alcohol, so he probably didn't give Tim any, either.  I liked drinking just fine, but I could have a hell of a good time stone cold sober.  I knew Kyle felt the same way.

We sat around talking about Mardi Gras, and I was cracking pretty good that night.  It was just down-home country humor, but they seemed to like it.  Kyle said to me one time that I make them happy by saying funny stuff, and it makes me happy when I can make other people laugh.  We joke and tease each other a whole lot, but we never hurt anybody's feelings.  Gene thought he might have hurt my feelings, which he didn't, and that bothered me that he thought that.  

Craig and Cherie spent the night at Grandma's house, so they put all five boys in one bedroom.  That wasn't a big deal except there was only one bed.  It was a big one, so three of us could sleep in there, but not all five.  They had an air mattress, and we took turns sleeping on it on the floor.  The first night Brian and I slept on the air mattress, and it was just as comfortable as a bed.  He curled up in my arms like he always does, and I got a big monster hard-on like I always do when we go to bed.  I started rubbing his soft, sweet chest to see if we could get something going, but that little rascal went to sleep on me.  That was all right, though.  It just felt good to be all up next to him, warm and cozy.

The ones in the bed didn't go right to sleep, though.  I knew they were jerking each other off.  A couple of times I heard Tim whimper, and ole Jeff let out a strong sigh like he had come off.  I figured Kyle had probably taken care of both of 'em.  Then I heard Mister Kyle grunt, so I knew he was finished, too.  I started to make a crack of something like, "My turn," or something.  That would have made them laugh, but it might also have woken Brian up, and I didn't want to do that.  Besides, I wasn't going to get any action, so I might as well keep my mouth shut.

As I was lying there, I started thinking about Jeff.  Of all the ones of us, he was the one I didn't know very good.  I liked him, and I knew he liked me.  In Sarasota he had slept in the bed with me and Brian one of the nights, and we had all taken care of each other.  I've seen a lot of guys having sex, but I didn't know anybody could get as emotional over a hand job as he got.  I had his dick and balls, while Brian sucked his nips, and you would have thought we were fucking him and sucking his dick at the same time.  I think he's a pretty hot guy, but when that boy gets turned on, he really gets turned on.  I decided I was going to try to hang out some with him, just so we could get to know one another better.

The next morning I woke up to find Kyle leaning over me.  It sort of startled me a little, in fact.  He had that big grin of his just a-going, and it's impossible to be mad at him when he's like that.

"I'm going to get these other two downstairs to give you and Brian some privacy, okay," he whispered.

"Thanks, Bubba.  I owe you one," I said.

"He's really pretty, isn't he?"  He was talking about Brian, who was still asleep.

"You know I think he is," I said.

"Yeah.  Have fun, Stud."

And we did.

*****

"There are my sweet boys," Grandma said when we went into the kitchen.  She gave me and Brian a little kiss to say good morning.  "Do you want some coffee or juice or milk?"

"Juice, please," Bri said.

"I'd like some coffee, please," I said.

"Jus, I want to hear all about your new job.  Is your boss a real tyrant," she asked.

"Yes, I'd like to hear this, too," Kevin said, grinning at me.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, "and he's ugly as homemade sin, too."

"I didn't know you worked for Rick.  I thought you worked for Kevin," Kyle said.

"I hope you get hit in the head with a coconut at the Zulu parade on Tuesday," Rick said.

"A coconut?  What are you talking about," Kyle asked.

"They throw coconuts in that parade," Rick said.

"Nuh-uh," Kyle said.  

I didn't much believe that, either.

"He's telling the truth, Bubba," Kevin said.  "They don't actually throw them, though.  They just hand them down."

"Real coconuts," Kyle asked.  "Are they telling the truth, Grandma?"

"Yes, Kyle.  They're small, and the krewe members pretty much save those for friends and family, I think.  They're probably expensive," she said.

Jeff came in just then, and then Rita and Gene and Doc.  There were too many people for the kitchen, so we went out into the den.  In a minute the lady who cooks said breakfast was ready, so we all went into the dining room to eat.  Ed said the prayer, and then we all ate.  It was some kind of French toast, that they called Lost Bread, and it was good.  They had sausage and bacon and ham, too, and my favorite, grits.

"Boys, I've been following your Web site religiously.  I think it's wonderful.  Who were those three little boys at the cabin," Grandma asked.

Kevin and Rick told all about the Broman family.

"Grandma, one of 'em's name was Kyle," Kyle said.  "He was the cutest one."

Kevin and Rick laughed.

"They were all cute, Mama," Kevin said.  "He just liked Kyle best because of his name."

"I want to adopt me one like him, one of these days," Kyle said.

"We'll help you however we can," Cherie said.  

"We certainly will, Kyle," Grandma said.  "You can count on that, son."

"Thanks," Kyle said.

"Did you like the memorial page for Clay?  That wasn't up yet when y'all were there for Brian's party," Kyle said.

"It's beautiful, Kyle," Grandpa said.  "I found some of the videos rather amusing, and interesting in other ways, too."

Ole Kyle got this pained look on his face.  I was sitting right next to him, and I squeezed his nuts about medium hard.  He reared back to pop me one, which I knew I deserved, and then he remembered we were at the breakfast table.  He looked at me like he was going to cream my ass later on.  Kyle has a lot of cute ways about him, and that look he gave me was one of them.  I started laughing, but not out loud.  He laughed, too. 

"I thought some of those videos were hilarious," Gene said.  "Kyle, I encouraged your mother not to watch a certain one."  He winked at Kyle, and Kyle relaxed a little.

"Are you talking about the one of them skiing," Craig asked.  You could have gone all day without bringing that up, I thought.

"I think it's a wonderful way to communicate," Rita said.  "And Jeff, you really outdid yourself on Clay's page.  Thank you, son."

"You're welcome," Jeff said.  "It was Kyle's idea.  He copied a whole bunch of your videotapes and gave them to me.  I spent almost a full week watching those tapes to find segments to digitize, and I felt as though Clay was with me the whole time.  I feel as though he's still here with us."

"I've had that same feeling lately, Jeff," Rita said.

"Every once in a while Kyle comes up with a good idea," Gene said.

"Kyle has lots of great ideas, Gene," Tim said.

"For something besides mischief?"

"Not too often," I said.  "He's good at mischief, though.  Ain't you, Bubba?"

I was steady inching my hand over to his lap.  I knew he could see me out of the corner of his eye, and he kept trying to push my hand away without everybody at the table knowing what was up.  I was making him nervous as hell because after I squeezed his nuts, he didn't know what I was liable to do.  I loved that guy so much, and I loved to tease him.  I didn't get a chance to do it very much, though, at least not like that.  

"Changing the subject, I want to ask the doctors here something.  How do you treat somebody that gets his hand broken," Kyle asked, all serious.

"What a strange question," Rita said.  "Why do you want to know that, Kyle?"

"Because Justin is fixing to get his hand broken, and I just wondered if y'all could take care of it here at the house," Kyle said.

I started laughing out loud.

"Justin?"  It was Grandma asking that.

"Yes, ma'am.  I've been teasing him.  I'll be good, though.  I don't want my hand broke," I said.

"Guys, come give me a hand with something out in the kitchen," Kevin said as he stood up.

Kyle and I looked at each other, and it was dead quiet at that table.  We both said, "Yes, sir," at the same time.  We got up and dragged our butts in there.  Everybody in the dining room started laughing hard when the door closed behind us.  They knew we were in for a private chat.

"I don't know what you all are doing, but whatever it is, stop it," he said.

"Yes, sir," we both said.

"Y'all are both mighty cute this morning.  Don't mess it up, okay?"

"Yes, sir," we said again.

"Now let's go finish breakfast."

We marched back into the dining room.

"That was quick," Tim said.

Everybody was quiet waiting for us to say something.

"Quick but painful," Kyle said.

The kids laughed, and then the grownups laughed when they saw he was just kidding.

"Here's what I thought we would do, if everybody's agreeable," Grandma said.  "Odille has made po' boy sandwiches for us to take.  We'll take fruit, chips, and other food to nibble on.  We'll stop and pick up some fried chicken, too.  That's sort of a 'must' for a Carnival parade.  As far as I'm concerned, we can leave any time."

"Mom, give us about a half hour, okay," Kevin said.

"Sure.  We need a few minutes to organize ourselves.  Rita, would you be interested in a little shopping before the parade," she asked.

"Beth, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've not been interested in shopping," Rita said.

"Cherie, dear, you're welcome to join us, of course, but I thought you might be more interested in doing what the boys are going to do," Grandma said.

"What are the boys going to do," Cherie asked.

"There are two outstanding museums in very close proximity to where we'll be for the parades.  I'm sure we'll have time to get in at least one of those this morning.  It's only 8:30," Grandpa said.

"I understand the National D-Day Museum is quite something," Doc said.  "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

"I wouldn't either," Gene said.  "One of my uncles took part in the Normandy Invasion, and he told some unbelievable stories about it."

I scanned from eye to eye of my brothers, and I saw nothing but pain.  Craig noticed, too, and he grinned.

"Cherie and I want to take the boys to the Quarter," Craig said.  "Can they do the museum another time?"

"Oh, sure.  We'll be back a lot," Kevin said.

God bless you, my brothers, I thought.

"I'd still like to see the museum.  Could we do that?  All split up," Doc asked.

"Absolutely, George," Rick said.  "We won't let Tim run wild."

Doc kind of chuckled.  He was a hell of a nice man.  A great man, even, but his idea of fun was sure different from mine.

"Well, that's it, then.  Craig, Cherie, Rick, and I will take the five guys to the Quarter.  George, Gene, and Dad will go to the museum, and Rita and Mom will go shopping," Kevin said.

"Great plan," Craig said.  "We probably all need to be back at Cherie's office by 12:30.  The first parade starts at noon, but it starts up on Napoleon Avenue, I think.  It'll probably get to us at one or 1:30.  Maybe later, but we need to get places on the street.  There will be a lot of people out on a day as nice as this one is."

All nine of us piled into Rick's truck.  I had Brian on my lap that time, and, yes, of course, I did get a boner.  Kyle knew it, too.  He had his hands in his lap, and he kept slowly raising up his finger like a dick getting hard.  Cherie saw him do it and was silently laughing her ass off.  She was really cool, and I might even have wanted to be straight if I thought I could find me one like her.  

Brian knew what was going on with my dick, too, and he was squirming around on purpose.

"Buddy, please keep still," I said.

"I'm not doing that.  It's the car that's doing it to me," he said.

What he said was cute as hell, but I knew it wasn't true.  I was about to cream my jeans right there, in front of God, Cherie, and everybody.

"Kyle, let Brian sit on your lap for a little while," Rick said.

Brian moved over to Kyle.

"Come here and snuggle with me some, Buddy.  I saw you sleeping this morning, man, and you looked like an angel," Kyle said.

Brian blushed so red I thought his skin would pop open.  I thought, You deserve it for what you were trying to do to me.  I couldn't resist, though.  I put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a tiny massage.  He turned to face me, and he grinned.  God, he was so cute.

*****

We parked in a lot near Cherie's office.  The lot charged twenty-five bucks for the day, but they didn't seem to think that was too much.  I guess if you divided it by the nine people in the car, it wasn't that bad, per head.  We walked over to the French Quarter.  It wasn't all that far, and I sort of enjoyed being amongst all the people and big buildings and all.

That French Quarter was hopping that morning.  We made a beeline for Bourbon Street.

"When we get to Bourbon, I suggest we all hold hands," Craig said.  "Not abreast, though.  We'll never get down the street like that.  Does anybody have a problem with holding hands in a line?"

We all laughed.  I wouldn't mind holding your hand or your whatever, I thought.  I didn't say anything though, with his wife there, and all.  I'm here to tell you, though, that Craig would have made a damn fine queer.

When we got to Bourbon Street, I saw why he suggested we hold hands.  My God, the people!  It was just about shoulder to shoulder.  In some places it was even closer than that.

I had Cherie in one hand and Brian in the other.  I leaned as close to her as I could get to talk to her.  

"Pass it up the line to Rick.  Tell him we're nuts to butts."  She thought that was funny, and she almost stopped walking to laugh.  Craig pulled off her hand, and I almost ran over her.  When she told Craig what I had said, he did the same thing.  Rick laughed hard when Craig told him.

"What the hell's so damn funny, Davis," Kyle screamed from behind me.

"I told Rick we're so tight here we're nuts to butts," I screamed back.

People all around us started laughing.  Total strangers, but they knew the truth.

We finally got to where Craig was leading us.  It was in front of some place called Ambush Communications, or something like that.  It was a corner building with a huge balcony on two sides.  The balcony was all decorated up, and there were a bunch of guys, and some women, too, on it with beads in their hands.  It wasn't quite as crowded there as it had been walking up the street.  There was a sign up on the balcony that said, "You show it.  We throw it."

"Tim, remember when you asked about the place where you catch beads?  This is the place, Bubba," Kevin said.

"You mean for showing your dick," Tim asked.

"Exactly," Craig said.  "Or your whatever, if you don't have a dick."

"I want to do it," Kyle said.

"If you do it, I'm doing it," I said.

"Let's do it, Bubba," Kyle said.  He was really excited.  I just hoped he wasn't hard.

"On three," Kyle said.  "One.  Two.  Three."

I popped open my jeans and flipped that thing out.  I looked both ways down the row, and everybody else, including Craig, had done the same thing.  Cherie didn't have a dick to pull out, but she was showing some mighty fine tit.  The guys on the balcony started cheering and pelting us with beads.  One of them hit Brian right on his dick.

"Hey, that's my boyfriend.  Be careful.  I need that," I yelled up to them.  That really made 'em laugh, and they threw more beads to us.  We were scampering around the street trying to grab 'em all before other people got 'em, the waistbands of our briefs caught up under our balls in some cases.

"Who are you guys," somebody up there said.

"We're from Florida," Rick called out.  "Seven gay brothers and one straight brother and sister."

"Get your asses up here right now," the man on the balcony said.  "Officer, let them up, please."

Before we put everything away, I reached down and pulled on Kyle's dick.  He let out a scream, even though I hadn't done it hard, and everybody on the balcony laughed.  Jeff was shooting pictures of us, and I knew he got a couple of me doing that.

When he said that about letting us up, that was the first time I noticed there was a cop right there standing in front of this green door.  He opened it for us with a key.  We climbed the stairs.

When we got to the upstairs, the guy who had invited us up was there to greet us.  We introduced ourselves all around, and he introduced us to his partner.  

"There's plenty to eat and drink here," the man said.  "Get you some and then come out on the balcony with us."

It hadn't been that long since breakfast, but that didn't stop us from diving into the eats.  That table was groaning, it was so heavy with food, and it was all good.  I got me a handful of boiled shrimp already peeled, some red sauce to dip 'em in, two or three crackers full of crab dip, some cheese, and some raw vegetables with dip.  Craig and Kyle spotted raw oysters out on the back balcony that overlooked their garden, and they went after those.  Kyle had taught me to like raws pretty good, but it was still early in the day for them.  That boy could eat 'em round the clock, though.

There was a bar set up with a bartender.  We went up to that to get something to drink.  Tim and Brian both wanted Cokes.  Jeff said he wanted Coke and bourbon.  I said, "Make it two."

We went out on the balcony.  It was a really nice day, and it was pretty warm.  

"Is it okay if I take off my shirt," I asked Rick.

He laughed, so I figured it was okay.  A couple of guys on the balcony whistled at me, but I didn't pay them any mind.  Kyle came out there in a little while.  When he saw I had my shirt off, he took his off, too.  Then Tim and Brian took theirs off, too, and so did Craig.  Kyle had a good bit of hair on his chest.  I had seen it before, of course, but that was the first time it ever really looked sexy to me.  Jeff noticed it, too, as did some of the guys on the balcony.  Kyle was a very good looking fella, and there was no question about that.

"Did you bring your camera, Flash," I said.  I liked to call him Flash, and he liked it, too.

"Oh, yeah," he said, and he dug it out.  He started taking pictures like mad.

"How many disks did you bring, Kyle," Jeff asked.

"Two hundred floppies and two 32-meg memory sticks.  I should have plenty," Kyle said.

"I bought one just like yours," Jeff said.

"Yeah, I saw you taking pictures when we were down on the street.  Those are going up, dude.  For sure," he said.  

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew there were going to be lots of pictures for the Internet.  I didn't have anybody to tell about that Internet stuff, but I enjoyed looking at us on there.

Cherie told us when we had about another half hour to stay there before we had to go back for the parades.  I was standing there talking to Kevin and Rick and a couple of other guys that I didn't know.  This big hairy guy dressed in black leather came up to us.  He rubbed on my tit a little bit.

"You living here now, boy?"

"No, sir.  I live in Florida.  I'm just visiting for Mardi Gras," I said.  He looked vaguely familiar to me.

"I want your ass, boy.  Now!!"

I was so scared I almost shit.

"Get your hand off him right now," Rick said.  Then he yelled, "Kyle, come here."

"Who do you think you are, dude," the guy said.  "I know him.  This is some prime ass, right here, and I want me some of it right now."

Kyle got there right then.  "What do you want, Rick?  I'm taking pictures."

"Well, take a picture of this motherfucker while he still has teeth.  He's hassling Justin, and your brother needs help."

Kyle's camera was on a chord around his neck.  He dropped that camera in a heartbeat.  He checked out what was going on, and he knocked that guy's hand off my chest and laid a hearty knee into that guy's crotch.  Down he went.

Kyle was just poised to kick his head in when Kevin grabbed him and pulled him back.

"If you fuck with my brother again, motherfucker, I will kill your fucking ass.  Do you hear me?"  Kyle was pissed.  "He is NOT a whore, and he's NOT some piece of meat you can play with whenever and however you want to.  He is my brother, motherfucker, and don't forget it."

The room busted into applause.  Some guy came over and helped the asshole up.  I guess it was his friend or partner or somebody.  I clenched Kyle in a big hug.  He and I were both shirtless, and he was sweaty.  I didn't mind that, though.

"We almost had us a chance to really kick some ass," I said.  I knew he wanted to play Superman worse than anything.

"I know.  But who would have ever thought it would be over you," he said.  He grinned real cute at me.

We left that place right after that.  Our hosts were so apologetic and so nice.  They wanted us to come back that night and on Tuesday, too, and we said that maybe we would.

"Are you okay, Buddy," Brian asked me, as we were walking to Cherie's office.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Buddy," I said.

"I feel so much safer than I used to.  Our brothers have us covered, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do, Buddy.  Never worry about that," I said.

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