Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 09:22:55 -0600 From: Michael Yost Subject: Drag 1/1 teen genre Drag Copyright 2001 by Chris Yost "Yes, Andre, I loved your violin recital. Yes, since I've been back, neither I nor Leo have thrown any chairs out the windows, yet. I have fully recovered from being overly exposed to the sun from my business trip in Albania. My sunburn is now a nice tan. How many assurances do you need? I swear to you I am quite well. I'll see you tonight?" Louis waited out a long and terrible silence. "You'll meet me then at the theater, and then we'll do some Mardi Gras fun? Fantastic. Yes, of course Josh will come too. He's bringing along with him a boy he very attached too. Yes, I will tell Leo good luck on his audition." Hanging up the phone, he resumed gluing scattered empty milk gallon jugs together along with empty coke cans. "Louis?" Leo said, staring down at a empty milk jug which stared right back at him with its hollow one eye. "Yes?" Louis said, gluing another milk jug to another. "Must you do this sculpture of yours in our living room? What of your studio?" he said, tuning the page of his Esquire magazine. He dared not, as much as he was tempted to do so, under any circumstances, accidentally stomp on one of the jugs. "You know my studio is packed with paintings and ceramic pots at the moment," Louis said patiently, pouring out from a black, plastic trash bag empty coke cans on top of the silver colored antique couch. The very sight caused Leo to wince. "Besides I like the lighting in here. I was hoping Josh would come over and give me his opinion on this composition of mine. I'm calling it, "Thirst". I wanted him to take photographs of it using black and white film once I was finished. Then I was going to use his photographs to help me do some interesting shadings on the pencil drawings I want to do of it. I was hoping we could do this as a father and son collaboration." Louis shrugged. "He at least gave me a definite maybe." "Why not leave Josh alone till he gets used to the idea of my moving back in with you?" Leo said, "He'll get used to us living together one of these days." He enjoyed a small private joke with himself. Moving in may be the correct phrase, but they hardly seemed to be living together. Louis sent most of his hours nightly in his studio, preferring to be surrounded by his creative clutter of clay dust, un-glazed pots, and glazed pots which were ready for the kiln. Leo wandered over to a small book case. On top of it was dollar bills, and neglected uncashed checks which Louis received at the French Market for the sell of his unusual, sand blasted vases, and also his paintings. To say he's changed from my magnificently passive admirer is an understatement, Leo thought to himself, remembering the timid, angry beauty who used to be hypnotized by the perfection of his body dancing shirtless at clubs. Who used to stand outside in the middle of a rainstorm waiting for him to come out of his drab rental house he shared with two other guys. Rain pounding into the New Orleans' dirt making dust to rise in the moist humid air. Thunder, low and rumbling softly amongst the nights of jagged lightening. Louis had been more of a waif at his feet than a creature honed by his nature to the slaughter of men, their spouses, and their children. Leo had read in the papers about how a rebel leader in Albania was assassinated along with his whole family. This leaving the rebels muddled and in a viscous power struggle amongst themselves about what to do. Giving plenty of time for the government forces to regroup under their recent losses, and rebuild a stronghold against the emery. Leo never asked Louis about his involvement in espionage. He knew he was better off not knowing. When he met Louis six years ago, Louis had been living with a man, Daniel, and their son, Josh. Unbeknownst to his family, he had been carrying on a double life in the dark rooms of S&M gay bars. He picked up men, urging them to humiliate him on his terms. Leo started up in acquittance with him. Louis soon became infatuated with him, leaving his family for him. They had broken up six months ago when Louis learned of his affair with Richard, a guy he met at Kelly's, a gay bar which catered to the college set. He and Richard had gotten in a car wreak. Trevor, another guy in the car, had died. Richard sustained no injuries. Leo had been in a coma for a couple of days. After he woke up from it, Louis dutifully nursed him back to health. Louis also started to go to a therapist to be cured of his deeply rooted guilt over his profession. Now, Leo thought to himself, I am confronted with a Louis who has met all the questions and doubts in his life, and has answered those questions and doubts head on, and has left them behind him dead and buried. I have now, Leo reflected wiry to himself, A confident man to contend with. "Excuse me," Louis said politely, going to the computer, he switched it on. Checking to see if you got any reviews on your book?" Leo said smiling. "Yes, vanity, vanity. After this I'm yours to do with as you will. Look, someone has written my book is thoroughly stupid and also vain glorious. He writes it was nothing but an assignation on Dickens's character," Louis laughed. "Well, one bad review out of the ten is nothing to be too concerned with, not too terribly." "Oh the hell with this one jealous critic. Your book ranks between eight and thirteen in sales, and it went to number one in its genre of biography and history," Leo said briskly, putting his hands on the slender bones under the skin of his powerful shoulders. "Leo, you needn't protect me from bad reviews. I shall do as they say; my crying all the way to the bank." Louis said grinning. "Next book will be about Napoleon." Which means you'll be buried in research, and the only way I will luck into any attention from you is if I turn into a book you can take notes from, Leo thought gloomily. There was nothing but competition for Louis' attention. Competition from his studio, pots, paintings, white lined pages waiting for ink. And of course his books he was always in the middle of reading. And his work. It was maddening to be so thoroughly replaced by objects, not to mention the evenings Louis spent at the Welcome House tutoring homeless kids in math, or spending his evenings selling his pots and paintings; talking with other artists, comparing notes and techniques. Other evenings he was practicing with his band, Body Beautiful. Then there was Josh, his eighteen year old son, only four years younger than himself, tagging along, giving him the evil eye. Alex, Louis practicing with delectable Alex. "What, what was Alex like in bed? " he asked curious. "Alex?" Louis said, curious why Leo would be curious. He looked up from the computer screen. "He, he melts He's a very good vessel for taking a cock. He's an innocent. There's an electricity in the way his expectations of what will happen next encourages a man to be inventive. I'd highly recommend Alex to you, but of course, he's Daniel's partner." "You resent Alex don't you?" "Resent him? For sleeping with Daniel the night right after he slept with me, after he accepted my proposal of partnership because he thought what I felt about him was delusional? He hurt my pride. The fault lays with us both. Still, yes, I resent him. I'll get over it. I'm sure. It happened long ago. Three years ago after our first breakup Leo. I barely think of it, " Louis pressed his back against his chair, remembering two weeks ago the uneasy lust he felt when he slapped Alex in the face with his belt. His lust became unbridled with each smack he made on Alex's plain face till he was reduced to kissing and licking at the jagged wounds he made. Never had a face looked so naked, or so beautiful. He could still feel the moist bloody taste of those lips passively open to the heat and demanding rape of his lips and tongue. The taunt firmness of his nipples against his playing, angry slapping hands. The ways his chest reared up tight against his. His hips rocking rhythmically against his hungry cock thrusting deeply inside of him, how his stringy muscle melted under his weight. The filthy whispers he tickled Alex's ear with. "Did you say something, Leo?" he asked, breathlessly. "I said, I'm sure you will get over him, and yes, he is Daniel's partner," Leo said, thinking it made Alex all the more desirable to seduce. "Alex is not a handsome man. Rather, I'd call him an endearing man. His nose, too prominent. But, his eyes how radiant. They seem to me, when he's in the middle of an emotional fit about something to be radiant. His mouth is very fluid, liquid." "He runs off with his mouth way too often. Forgets to keep it still," Louis laughed, "Leo, hands off." "There was no question of hands on," Leo said lightly, "You are going with me to the audition, yes?" "Yes," Louis said fondly. For all of Leo's bluster, he could tell he was not a little undone about the audition. "I don't see why I should audition at all," Leo fretted, "He's your friend. Tell Henri I have the part, sight unseen." "You'll do fine at your cattle call," Louis said. "Cattle call? Do I wear horns for this cattle call?" I better not wear horns," Leo thought jealously to himself. " Louis you would never make a cuckold of me?" Louis shrugged his shoulders, reading his reviews. "I'm going upstairs. Louis, take your eyes off that screen and join me please? I would like a blow job before we go. If you please. It would do much to calm my nerves. I haven't acted in a real play for years. For luck?" "Go upstairs then," Louis said turning off the computer, "I need to clean up down here." "I'll be waiting." "So you will." Louis watched Leo go up the stairs. Going to the small refrigerator, he took out what he was looking for, then he went upstairs. Leo pulled down his baggy, cotton trousers. Louis quickly sped to him, putting an icy can of coke right between his legs. Leaping out of the way of his flying fists, he innocently said, "Didn't you like it?" Jumping grotesquely from one foot to another, Leo let go a stream of his most obscene curses, "Ass hole, pig , fuck you." "Tsk, tsk," Louis said calmly. "What were you doing with that can of coke!" Leo cursed, "Waiting for the opportunity?" "No, I like to drink one when I'm tied of writing. Now, look at the time. You're stalling. Let's go down the stairs to the theater to do your audition." Louis led the way, followed by a much put upon Leo. Leo looked like a prince written in books which insisted that all prince's have blond hair which fell to their shoulders, and whom had aristocratic , brave faces, and slender, athletic, young bodies. If not a prince, Leo could easily be an understudy for the role of the God Apollo. He was long limbed, and radiated charm and charisma unless a bad mood clouded him. Waiting for them on the stage was Henri dressed in a white cotton, long sleeved shirt, and pants tight enough to be tights. He didn't try to appear to be charming, he already was assuredly charming in appearance and in manner; naturally a gentleman. Christov was dressed in loose jeans which reveled the points of his hip bones, any looser and the whole would would know him to be true brunette both above and below. His nipple rings hung enticingly though his tiny nubs. His face carried a false eyelash on one eye. Through, he did not care for makeup on his face, he couldn't resist playing with his eyes. Lining them with Max Factor accenting the lashes with mascara. The rest of his face was uninjured by any marks of femininity. It was a face which was boldly, decadent and absolutely insolently male. Besides them stood Ivan, a alpha male with a panther's body. Blood lines of Spanish, Jewish, Russian and even a bit of Moor blended to make his deeply black satanic eyes, cruel lips, hook nose a perfection of ethic European splendor. He was taller than them all. "So, you are to be our Macbeth," Ivan said looking Leo over with frank appreciation he reserved for beautiful, barely grown from boyhood men. He himself was in his middle fifties. "Yes," Leo said, though he did have a history of having crushes for older men, he didn't know quite how he felt about this one. He was so damn tall and imposing. And he certainly didn't come off as the fatherly or protective type like Mark and David did. At least they were fatherly and protective towards him. Mark had been his first lover. He was a man in his late fifties. He taught Leo about sexuality when he was sixteen. David had been his second lover, a man in his eighties. He enjoyed presents from both men of money and gifts till he started to get interested in boys his own age. Louis' was age was thirty-four to his twenty-three. This, Ivan, was an older man without patience for young men who wanted to be treated like children. He might enjoy the looks of a young male, but, by God, he better be mature acting about rehearsals, especially if he was going to be in one of his productions, he wouldn't even cater to a baby, or a real child, much less to a young man. Leo disliked him on the spot. "Do you have a line you'd like me to read Henri?" Leo said turning to the blond. "Hey, guys," Josh said, coming down the row of chairs to the stage, "Am I late for Leo's reading of Shakespeare? I wouldn't mess this for the world, man, I can't wait." Louis smiled indulgently at his eighteen year old son dressed in his loafers, jeans and a Grateful Dead muscle Tee-shirt. "Ouch, someone's been working out," Christov said smiling. "Pete hasn't come around yet? He's supposed to meet me here so we can get to partying," Josh asked, looking around half expecting Pete to come out of one of the wings of the stage to cross to the center stage. "Andre is going to join us by the way, " Louis said. "Join us, I sort of thought," Josh blushed, "Pete and I would sort of be on our own tonight." "Nonsense," Louis insisted, "We need to spend some quality time together the five of us." "Five of us, Christov, Henri are one of you coming with us?" Josh said hopefully. "No, I am," Leo said shortly. "Oh," Josh said, thinking the news just keeps getting worse and worse. "You know what Josh, Pete has a surprise for you," Christov said. "Shall we start the audition now?" Ivan said briskly. Ivan eyed his competition for Leo over. Louis. Louis, he decided was on the wrong side of being slender, through he had to admit he carried his sparse weight gracefully enough. He almost danced with his rhythmic, polished movements. There was a terrible strength he could tell which was inside of his body. It was no wonder his beauty was the stuff beyond the reach of legends. On the negative side, he had hard, cold, unbreakable eyes. Eyes which could drive nails through a lover's soul. He was a stubborn man of the world. A world he could induce to taking a low bow to him if he so wished. Ivan was amazed when Christov went to hug him how all the cold distant aloofness of Louis' face melted into warmth. He does know how to be a friend, Ivan thought. "Leo would you please read this part from act three of Macbeth," Henri said, handing him the script. Gratified, and nervous, Leo took up the script, saying in a voice which carried out into the theater. "Bring them before us!" he railed with a flourish, "but to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo," he made a face of panic, "reigns that would be feared." He made a show of defiance by rearing up his head. "Tis much he dares!" he shouted, really raving, "And to that dauntless temper of his mind, he hath a wisdom that doth guide his fate to act in safety," Leo snarled sarcastically, his face was neither king's, nor man's but a Greek mask exaggerated in each expression he took on. "He sucks big time, Chritov thought grinning. Disaster! Henri moaned inwardly. Josh bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Perfect, perfect," Ivan said in a pleased voice deciding he was going to seduce Leo for his appearance alone, if for no other reason. He could be trusted he felt to at least know his lines. And besides, good acting was wasted in these days of modern times. All the audience wanted was sex and violence. Leo could be trusted to nicely fill a pair of tights and doublet. A bit of makeup to age him, and he would make an adequate enough Macbeth for their off, off boardway production. "You, my boy, you deserve this part," Ivan's voice was the purest of flattery. "I do I do, I thank you," Leo squealed. "He does, he does?" sputtered Henri panicked, "Ivan!" "Hey Josh, I'm here! What's up, boyfriend?" Pete said coming into the room. "Oh my God!" Josh gasped. "Do you like it?" Pete said, smiling spinning around in a flapper's costume. The skirt hung loosely to his knees. The bodice was of silver sequins. "I'm so ready for Mardi Gras! Me and Brent did some skateboarding tricks on the steps of the city library. Everyone loved us. Do you like the wig?" he asked shyly, before Josh pry open his locked jaw to say a word, he said " The cops came by and told us to beat it. The crowd was starting to get too thick to skate on the sidewalks anyway. This guy told me he'd give me some beads if I pulled up my shirt. Christ, wouldn't he had been in for a shock. You know what I did! I turned around and mooned him! He was a good sport about it. Look beads! Brent pinched my butt through. He can he such an ass hole." "Oh, really? Brent, the ass hole, otherwise known as the sissy-boy, drama student," Josh said, surly. "Hey, he's a jock too. He's heavy duty into basketball. You'd like him if you would hang out with us once in a while," Pete said. "Whatever, you look!" Josh moaned, at a loss for words. "Did you shave your legs?" "Yes," Pete said, putting up his leg on a chair so Josh could admire it. "These black pantyhose of my mother's really do a great job of making my legs look smooth. I cut the crotch out." "Josh," Christov said, elbowing him. "Lighten up. It's Mardi Gras. Do you like the blush and lipstick I put on him? This shade of "Dusky Rose" really matches his skin tone, and listen, I didn't have to use any foundation. A little blush on those great bones of his, and he's perfect. I loaned him the outfit from our last month production of "Cabaret". Doesn't he look great?" Christov said fondly, "Pete, put a little more lipstick on." Taking out a tube from the huge purse he was carrying , he carefully applied color to his lips. "You look sumptuous Pete. I swear you pass as a girl," Henri said gallantly. "Was that your intention to pass as a girl?" Josh whispered angrily to him, trying to stay calm. Pete crossed his arms against his chest defiantly. "Listen Ivan, Leo, about well, the part of Macbeth," Henri said, "I think we should audition a few more actors." "Never mind Henri. Leo will be fine," Christov hushed him. He laughed in amusement. He earned himself a flabbergasted reproachful look from his lover for his having committed the high crime of treason against the good of his production. "Leo, come with me. We'll go over your lines." He took him into another room filled with Breadsly prints. "My friend, you are terrible." "Ivan doesn't think so. I take his opinion over the opinion of a street whore's any day," Leo said haughtily, stung. "A street whore who happens to be the stage manager of this show, and who has no sympathy for your handsome looks. Why throw my past at me? No, my friend, I will not have you laughed at simply because you're paying for the curse of being too pretty. What is with this waving about of your arms like a windmill? The exaggerated grimaces. You're emoting like you're hysterical. Calm down. You have to speak the lines. Don't dictate to the audience what you think they should feel by over playing your character. Let them decide how to feel." "But, I always was supposed to, when I was on the stage, play to the crowds. Egg them on, get them laughing, screaming, or swooning." "You were doing melodramas at Disneyland, and other theme parks. This is a whole other story. This is a focused view of a human being who is dealing with the supernatural. That being the weird sisters, the witches who tell Macbeth he is to be king. How do you feel about him. How to you feel about Macbeth?" "I love the motivation of MacBeth, through he knows he is going against everything natural, he gives into supernatural means to set his course to be king, and there is no sin to his murders, because it was his given over destiny to be a king. He is above nature. That's how I felt, that's how I tried to feel. That the supernatural decreeded, crowned me to be a prince of a gay, and through it would be unnatural to commit sodomy: I was above nature. But Christov, the part where mornings following murdered King Duncan's death, there is this absence of sun, sun less days. The days had been murdered like Duncan the King,. Like my days had been murdered. I partied nightly and slept the days away when I was outed. No good could come from my reign as a gay any more than good could come out of King Macbeth's reign, and yet if I were fated to be evil. The evil I would be! With a flare for it!" "But there is a flaw to your logic." "Oui, I would be haunted by those I offended; my parents, the straight world, the same as Macbeth was haunted by the slayed Banquo. My sexual hunger was my "Lady Macbeth." It was my hunger which urged me to be a man, my hunger would slay the suckling child at it's breast to be appeased and to live another day. I both hated, loved, was repulsed, attracted by Mark who put me on the Satan's road like the witches put Macbeth on the Satan's road with their prophesies I both hated and loved the keenness of my hunger. I both loved and pitied my lovers. And I feared the consequence of my gayness to my immortal soul, not my immortality, grant you. I will be famous someday, my name will live on. I am as immortal as Macbeth thought himself to be assuredly immortal at least from murder, for the witches told him no man born from a woman could kill him. Pity that Macduff, who ended up killing Macbeth, was torn from his dead mother's womb." "There, there, now you are on the right track, mull those emotions over: hate, love, assurance of your destiny, moments of self doubts. Mull these thoughts over into into the role. When you confer with the witches, confer with your first lover Mark. No funny faces, or I'll slap you. Would you dare to make a funny face at Mark? You would! Wouldn't you! But don't! When you speak to Lady MacBeth let it be to your hunger to do great things you are really speaking to. You are my friend a version of Macbeth. Now take this version, your version, and play it to the world." After going over some lines; Christov giving him cues and critiques, Christov turned to leave. "No wait, I never thanked you," Leo said stopping him. "For what?' Chrsitov said puzzled. "All that time in the hospital, you tried to revive me. You read to me. Why?" "Call me Saint Jude of Impossible Causes. I felt sorry for you. Henri refers to me as his "good deed," because he made it possible for me to get over my learning disability, so I could read, perhaps aside from helping Pete when he's feeling down, I wanted to perform a good deed myself." "You!" Leo smirked. "It could happen. You don't have to be an angel to trespass into committing a good deed," Chrsitov said, shrugging. "Christov, about well, using you. Having you give me oral sex, and then walking out on you, leaving you hanging." "You were being you. We were both drunk that night. You were proving to me you were the bigger jerk out of the two of us," Christov said impatiently. "I, I am sorry for doing that to you. You didn't deserve it. I was overwhelmed by bitterness. When I learned Richard didn't want me after all. I had a moral collapse. I suppose that's why I'm back with Louis. No place else to go." " Leo, snap out of yourself. I did, and I'm all the happier for it. Now let's go show you off!" Going into the theater where Louis, Ivan, and Henri were engaged in small talk, Christov said, "Leo is ready to read again. Ivan, would you please read the second apparition's line from Act four. Scene one?" Ivan took up the script, reading, "Be bloody, bloody and resolute. Laugh to scorn. The power of man for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth." In Leo's mind's eye and ear he could imagine Mark handing to him the mystique, the power of sexuality. In a low voice of subdued, but impassioned defiance mixed with awe, he said, "The life, Macduff: What need I fear of thee? But yet, I'll make assurance double sure. And take a bond of fate. Thou lives not live, that I may tell pale hearted fear it lies and lives in spite of thunder." Rooted in this awe he had of Mark, he went into the devious cunning mind of the character of Macbeth to the guarantee his fate of majesty. He stopped reading his lines. He looked at all the faces around him, seeking out what hadn't been there in their faces after the first try out. Ivan's face had a look of faint, but very pleased surprise. His little light weight of fluff had weight to him after all, so far anyway. Christov was unabashedly happy, more so for Henri than Leo. Glad to have pulled his lover's reputation out of the fire. Henri was excited and relieved. But, Louis had his fist over his lips. Like the moon sliding over during the elapse of the sun, Louis' fist moved to reveal a proud smile. Leo felt dizzy with happiness. He could kiss that proud smile. In fact, he did. Laughing Louis gave him a hug, kissing him slowly, lingeringly back much to Ivan's annoyance. To cover his pique he said, "Gentlemen, let me introduce the newest star on of our theater's stage, Leo Maxim." "Pete," Josh said, "Can you please join me in the rest room?" "Why is it that girls always go in pairs to the bathroom?" Leo said. Josh shot Leo a look which would wilt anyone else. Leo simply deflected the menace of Josh's expression with a smug smile. "Come one Pete," Josh ordered, grabbing his hand, practically dragging him to the bathroom Slamming the door shut behind them, Josh said, "Do you sit to take a pee?" "Was that meant to be funny?" Pete asked, leaning against the door. "How could you embarrass me like this! In front of Leo and my father." "Josh, it's Mardi Gras. The only reason I'm in drag is because I thought it would be fun!" "Fun, this isn't fun! If you were dressed up in a coconut bra and a hula skirt, all right, that would be fun, or if you were dressed up like Snow White, but Pete, you're dressed up like a girl! I mean you're nothing like the other drag queens out in the streets! That's fun, that's funny. You look like a damn transsexual." Josh paused, having a ghastly vision of a surgeon taking Pete's cock in his hands. Pete on an operating table, floppy boobs on his slender chest from the result of hormones, his formerly magnificent boy's body now soft and lumpy! A big red ribbon in his light brown hair. His hazel eyes shut. The surgeon laughing, taking the scalpel, cutting, cutting. "Josh, you look like your going to faint!" Pete said worried, "Do you need a drink of water?" "Why, why?" Josh whimpered, wiping sweat off his forehead, His handsome face under his spiky blond hair was twisted in worry. He tugged as the roll of small hoop earrings in his ear. "Listen Pete, I wouldn't be a god damned fairy if I wasn't interested in men. I want a man interested in me, not some damn lipstick boy. This is a total turnoff. I'll drive you home and you can change." "But the parades, the floats, there's no way we can get to your place, Josh, I want to enjoy Mardi Gras," Pete pleaded. "If you wanted to get dressed up as something why didn't you tell me! We could have figured out something. You could have been a vampire, or I don't know; a zombie!" "Couldn't we have dressed up together? You being Batman and me being Robin?" Pete teased. "No!" Josh yelled turning red, "Why do you have to be such an obvious femme!" "You know I've been made fun of since kindergarten cause I look girlish and act effeminate I have no idea why I'm this way. I don't need this from you," Pete hissed, "of all people!" "Fine you want to be treated like a girl. You want to be my bitch, then why don't you loosen up, and let me fuck you, if you want to be a girl so bad," Josh yelled at him. "You know what Josh. At least I'm out at school. I'm not hiding in the closet like you so you can score with chicks too. Chicks you don't even like. You know what in this dress I'm still more of a man than you'll ever be!" Pete yelled, turning around, leaving the bathroom. "Wait, Pete I'm sorry!" Josh said, "Look, I'll dress up as a girl too. I borrow a costume from Henri and Christov. All right? Pete, I'll look stupid. But, hey so what. It's Mardi Gras, everyone's supposed to be stupid." "Fuck you!" Pete yelled over his shoulder, running past everyone. "Pete, Pete. Don't go. Damn it," Josh cursed. "Girl trouble?" Leo said, "maybe it's his time of the month." "Fuck you, you bitchy ass , Bottom," Josh snarled. "Josh!" Louis said sternly. "Sorry dads, but he asked for it." I was just kidding," Leo said smugly. "Listen Leo, why don't the four of us talk about what we want you to do with your role, " Ivan said. "Christov, Henri, should we go backstage?" "Sure," Henri said, "Christov I want to discuss what your ideas are about lighting." "Josh," Christov said, impatiently, "Go after the guy. You really hurt his feelings." "You're right. He'll probably punch me out when I catch up with him," Josh moaned, " I deserve it." "I'll come with you," Louis said, "Leo?" "I'm sticking here with Ivan," Leo said, looking at his watch. "Why don't the four of us meet at one o'clock in the morning at Oz's?" "Fine. We'll see you there," Louis said. Louis and Josh left the playhouse. Josh hollering Pete's name in the hot, muggy, beer scented night. Pete wandered amongst the drunken, screaming, rambunctious crowd. A pair of beads whacked him hard on the head. "Hey kid, you wanta hand over those beads," cried a heavy set man up an on a ladder. Pete could see his big, sweaty hairy stomach sticking out from under his dirty Tee-shirt. On his Tee-shirt was the words "Hot Pissy Fry." His face gleamed wetly in the light of the flambeaux kerosene torches held by parade marchers. He looked like a Halloween clown without his makeup on. "Sure," Pete said listlessly, "Hey, you wanna go out for a beer?" the husky guy yelled down at him from his ladder. Pete didn't even hear him. He was surrounded by beads, doubloons and candies raining from the the floats and balconies. People up on ladders were silhouetted against the lurid night sky. He nudged his way through the throngs of people. He wished he would have changed into the tennis shoes in his huge purse before he had left Josh in the theater. Gasping , he put his hand to his bodice. Someone spilled their drink on his sequins. The silver on his chest glittered cold and wet. He jumped back from the man trying to take a swipe at his wet shirt. Taking a breath, trying to steady himself: he was jostled from behind. Balancing himself on his high heels, he scrambled sideways away from the drunks who tired to paw at him. Snaking his way through the crowd, he took a moment to watch the floats go by. "New Suit" sung by Big Chief Bo Dollis filled the decadent holiday air. Chaos, not Rex, was the true king of this huge street party. Stumbling through a mass of people, he made it to the Rawhide tavern on Saint Anne Street. He stood back, watching the Bourbon Street Drag Queen contest. One drag queen swayed in an enormous pink hoop shirt, stunning in her lace and pearls. Her blond hair was huge with curls and with trails of intertwined roses. She sassed and heckled the crowd: sending them in peals of laugher. Brazenly, she strutted her stuff for the judges and the crowds amusement. Shaking her half bare ass reveled by the back panel being cut out from her skirt. Her shapely legs strutted in her high hells, nylon, and garter belts. Another drag queen was a bejeweled, feather bedecked as a Boardway Queen. Her huge headdress of Christmas tree lights threatening to fall over. Her raven black hair was swept up to fall in curls behind her delectable, swaying hips. Her breasts shoved up in her push up bra like two white melons ripe for the squeezing. Pete rubbed his chin with his hand. They were all so glamorous in their wigs and heels, feathers and sequins. They had grace and glitter which no mortal man or woman could hope to attain. They seemed to him like mischievous earthbound fallen stars. Their faces had a shine of radiant courage. Everything about the queens was exaggerated, breath taking, and often sweetly hilarious. It was men like these, drag queens, and also street hustlers who in June of 1969 pushed the gay liberation scene into the public eye by rioting in the streets after the bar Stonewall was raided. "I said don't," screamed a young lady. A stripling, drunken boy had her arms pinned against her back. A man poured his ice cold beet down the front of her Tee-shirt. Her nipples on her small adolescent breasts stood out rigid and sharp against the moist cotton of her white shirt. Grabbing at her crotch the man laughed in her face. "Shut the fuck up," he yelled at her, "We're only playing with you, bitch." "Hey, hey," Pete yelled, He looked around for a cop. Tottering on his heels, he jumped on the boy's back who was holding the girl's arms trapped. "Let her go!" he yelled. Another boy with greasy hands and a pimply face came up from behind him throwing him to the slippery wet pavement, stomping on his hand. Yelping in pain, his scream drowned out by a brass band, he felt hands pulling up his shirt. Oh God, he thought in a panic struggling to get away. His hands groped for his dropped skateboard. Grabbing the beefy, bald guy's shoulder, Louis pulled him off of Pete. His fist flew through the air. Pete yanked up his skateboard hitting the guy right under his chin with the edge. Louis' fist smacked right into the skateboard. "Agghhh!" Louis screamed, rubbing his fist. Kicking the man in the face, sending him slamming into his friends, Louis sent his fist right into the man's throat. Blood seeped out of the man's mouth, dribbling down his unshaven chin. Pulling out his favorite killing knife, he coolly slashed a crescent slice out of the man's face. Throwing his fist, slamming it into flesh, followed up with a flying kick into one of the boy's abdomen, Andre swirled to beat the other boy to a pulp. Louis kicked the boy right under his ribs, seeing him flying. The boy's breath came out of his lungs in wounded, jagged gaps. Josh ran to the fat guy ready to stomp in his face. The guy rolled over, hiding his bloody face in his hands. Frustrated, Josh grabbed him by his shirt. "Get the fuck out of here, dirt bag," he yelled, "Before I kick your sorry ass!" Scrambling on his knees, crawling away, he got up on his wobbly feet, running as fast as he could into the music filled night. "Louis," Andre said. He was a dapper, slender forty year old man suited only for Giorgio Armani suits. "Yes, Andre," Louis said calmly surveying over the carnage. "I, I love bashing straights, I mean, I really do." Andri said excitedly. 'You worry me sometimes," Louis said. "I mean it was all in a good cause! Come on. I wouldn't do it just to do it. Come on," Andre said, happily. "Pete, are you all right. Pete, say something. Call me a name. Anything," Josh said frantically, helping him to his feet. "I, I think I broke a nail," Pete said, rubbing the back of his head where a huge bump was forming under the wig. "You're bleeding," Josh said worriedly, pulling off the wig. Taking off his shirt, he pressed it to the back of his head. "Thanks for saving me," said young lady, throwing her arms around Pete, "I got separated from my friends, and then all of a sudden I was surrounded." "Who is this young lady?" Andre asked. "Beverly," she said. "Could you guys walk around with me till I find my girl friends." "I meant the other young lady." "He's my boy friend. Pete, meet my Uncle Andre." "Charmed, I'm sure," Andre said, kissing Pete's hand. "I think it would be best if you joined us tonight,' Louis said gallantly to Beverly. Nooooo!!! Dads, no, no," Josh thought, I want you to go away, so I can use my fake ID. I want to get Pete good and drunk. I want him to go into the back room with me, and maybe, maybe, in wildest of maybe dreams, it could happen, but not with you and a damn girl coming with us to Oz's! "Beverly, Beverly," a girl screamed from a group of six other girls. "We've been looking everywhere for you." "Would the two of you, I mean the four of you like to join us?" Beverly asked hopefully. already falling in love with Josh's handsome, blond, rough boy looks. "No thanks," Pete said, wincing from the pain in his head. The two pushed their way through the crowd. Andre and Louis walking closely behind them. Josh's arm tucked firmly in Pete's, Josh whispered into his ear, "You know what, I got the sexiest babe in the whole world." "Really who is she?' Pete said, his ankle folding on his high heel. Josh caught him before he feel down flat on his face. "You, you dork," Josh whispered in his ear. "I can't wait to get you alone. But it looks like it isn't going to happen. It's going to be family night tonight. I'm sorry for being such an ass wipe tonight. It's just I like you the way you are. My cute, sexy Pete in his jeans and a tee-shirt, " he said wistfully. He kissed and nibbled at his ear. "Ow! Complement, and apology accepted. Just get me the hell out of these heels. This stuffed bra is itching me; I want to scratch myself to pieces, and this damn mascara is getting in my eyes," Pete moaned, "I haven't what it takes to be a drag queen!" "Wait come here," Josh said. Digging in Pete's purse, pulling out a tube of lipstick he drew it along his lips, then he put the stick to Pete's mouth , slowly painting his lips. He put the lid back on to the lipstick, pushing it gently between Pete's lips. Pete looked him in the eyes. Their eyes were dazzled with each other. Pete sucked on the lipstick tube as Josh ran it in and out between his moist lips. Putting the stick back, he passionately kissed him on the mouth, his cheeks, his forehead, and his chin, leaving red lip marks all over his face. "Let me," he said, taking the case of blush from the purse. He brushed blush on his own face, then he ran the small brush across Pete's cheek bones. Taking a tube of mascara from the purse, he raked it across his own eyes. Then he applied it to Pete's. Pete's eyes smiled at him under the black, thickness of his lashes. He understood what Josh was conceding about himself, and how he felt about him. His conceptions of about queer masculinity was no longer compromised by his lover's male effeminacy. Josh almost collapsed to his knees. The burning between his legs pounded to be released from his shorts, he almost screamed from the discomfort he felt. Pete wiggled in his skirt as hot as he was. "Josh!" Louis said in a scolding amused voice. "Yes, dads," Josh whined. "Stop playing with the makeup. We're supposed to meet Leo, remember?" "Yes, dads, um, we, Pete and I need to talk, " Josh said, waiting for Andre and Louis to walk ahead of them. "We'll catch up." Smiling evilly, Pete put the purse in front of Josh's crotch. Josh heard the zip of his jeans. Working his way through the pee-hole in his shorts, Pete started to play with him as they both pretended to watch the parade go by. Josh gasped, and moaned, doing his best not to jerk and undulate in Pete's firm hand. The unsuspecting crowd walked around them. All of then too busy in their own little dramas to know what was going on in their midst. Finally, he fell against Pete's side, breathing hard. He reached under Pete's skirt. He found his shorts already had a moist spot on them. "We'd better not," Pete said, feeling awkward. "You have what it takes for me," Josh said, smiling, putting his arm around him, kissing his cheek. The end Hi if you would like to see what Josh and Pete look like go to more about Josh http://blessed-be.org/stories/want/want_1.html and try the story real world and My God, and Renaisance http://unotime-eleni.net/drinkmythirst/kris-characters.htm stories about Josh has him either as a conflicted young guy till he finds the love of the rest of his life, or a day walking vampire trying to survive intact with the love of his life. Enjoy!