Date: Tue, 21 Jul 2009 14:15:05 EDT
From: Park517@aol.com
Subject: Enter Laughing
NOTE: Since the vignette below, entirely a work of fiction,
includes discussion of sex between adult males, minors may not read it. So
don?t. The story is copyrighted by the author, Park517@aol.com, who
welcomes readers? comments.
ENTER LAUGHING
"God, what does he see in that ghoul? Walter's so elegant. I
mean, he's so sort of Fred Astaire. But then, that Jake. No left ear,
only two fingers fused together on his left hand, those burn scars and the
wonky eye. And he acted like a boor. Gays don't belch. Well, maybe in
Japan or China. Do they have gays in China? Of course, they do.
M. Butterfly, right? But I bet they cover their mouths. Where do you
suppose he was brought up? A trailer park. The kind that tornados aim at.
Isn't it weird how those pitiful places get torn apart so often? God just
doesn't like trailer trash. That's the message, isn't it?"
"I'm going to get your favorite ball gag, Dorothy, if you don't
unbabble on your own. I knew I shouldn't have let you have that second
snifter. You're free-associating, and that may be fine with your shrink.
By the way how do you pay his bill? But your motor mouth doesn't get the
dishes rinsed. And that's the last time I'm going to have a separate salad
plate. Just because your grandmother did it that way in Mt. Kisco when the
Rockefellers came over does not oblige us to put the big pot in the little
pot when we have my dealer and his boyfriend for supper."
"Blow jobs. If you must know."
"Not now. Not until this kitchen is ship-shape."
"Blow jobs is how I pay Dr. Edelman. My therapy for his. It's all
very clinical. Nothing for you to get jealous about."
"Oh, baby, come here. I'm not jealous. But you should have asked
me."
"For a cock-sucking pass? Like recess? You can just be so
controlling, Liam. I bet you'd like to put a ring in my nose to go with
the one in the left nipple."
"It looks so good on you, Stu. You're a David, even in cargo pants
and a sweat shirt, but when you're in me and that gold circle is bouncing
up and down on your sweaty chest, you are beyond beautiful. You are
mesmerizing. And I want to pay your doctor bills. It's what people do for
people they love."
"You do love me? It isn't just that none of your friends have a
boy like me to parade around at openings? Sometimes I see that superior
glow of yours when guys see me and then see that I'm with you. It makes me
feel like a collectible, not a lover."
"Is that what Dr. Edelman has got you thinking? The bastard! Let
me come along to your next session. I'll update him on doctor-patient
ethics. Stu, I love you. I loved you before I even met you. That night
at the Carlyle when you spilled a drink on Kitty Hart and started crying
and shouting that you weren't meant to be a waiter. You were so noble and
yes, so incredibly handsome that I decided you were the man I'd always
dreamed about. And I tracked you down and seduced you, and that was six
years ago next month.
"Stu, every day I love you more. Yes, I love having a gorgeous man
to show off. But even more, I love to wake up in the dark and hear you
breathing next to me. I can't see you or your beautiful face and body
then, but what I feel has nothing to do with your looks and everything to
do with your soul, your warmth, your nobility.
"Something like that, I imagine, explains why Walter and Jake are
together. They grew up in the same, small town somewhere, enlisted in the
Marines right out of school together and were caught together in the same
firefight in the Iraqi desert when we liberated Kuwait. Jake was wounded
then. Badly. Walter saved him. Maybe they were in love before, but
they've been in love ever since."
"Oh."
"Yeah, I agree. Oh. So you see, Stu, love doesn't make any sense,
but it's still the strongest thing there is. Leave the dishes. We'll
finish in the morning. Right now, I want to hear you breathing in our bed
in the dark."
"Just breathing?"
"Maybe some panting and growling and moaning first, but the most
important part is the breathing."
* * * *
"Let's walk, babe. Okay? It's a nice night, and you need to cool
down. I'm really sorry you didn't like them. Liam, at least. I agree
that Stu is kind of hard to take - body by Michelangelo, brain by Wal-Mart
- but Liam is a really serious talent, not to mention a fine cook. And you
shut Stu up when he started raving about Hillary. That crack that she is
just like John Kerry but less feminine. It broke me up. I don't know how
you can be so smart and so funny at the same time, but it's one of the
infinity of reasons for loving you."
"If you love me, why can't you tell people the truth about us? You
fed Liam the Marine con, didn't you? I could tell by the way he looked at
you as if you were Mother Teresa with a seven-inch cock. You know, Wally,
someday that hokey story is going to bite you in the ass. What if some
real Marine asks what our unit was? Or, God forbid, one of your Newport,
prep-school conquests turns up and talks about your parents' stately home.
I just don't get it. What's wrong with telling the truth?"
"You really want my clients asking why I was doing 90 days of
community service as an orderly in that hospital? Or what if your agent
finds out that you'd done the Richard Pryor, free-basing stunt, which, of
course, was why, with the bandages covering all of you except your ass and
dick, you were singing when I brought you the bedpan. And mine is nearly
eight inches, as you damn well know."
"Maybe Liam doesn't. There must be at least one genius in your
stable you haven't fucked while he was bent over your desk signing away 50
percent of himself. Shit, Wally, I didn't mean that. Forgive me? I
should never drink and talk at the same time. The addictive personality
strikes again. I really am sorry."
"It's okay, sweetheart. Lover, we do this ego wrestling all the
time. And then we get in the shower together, and everything is all right.
I think the pattern was set the first time I gave you a sponge bath and got
all tangled up in your catheter tubing. You thought it was hilarious, and
I thought I'd be sent back to court and from there straight to Rikers
Island. And instead I fell in love with you."
"Yeah. When Nurse Ratched stood there and instructed you in the
mysteries of inserting catheters into penises. Admit it, you fell in love
with my small but perfectly formed urinary tract."
"That, too. Goes without saying. But it was your voice and the
laughter in it that hooked me. Maybe just the fact that you could sing and
laugh. I would have been suicidal. And you could make fun of me and of
yourself. Jake, Jake, you're so strong, so tough, and so full of wisdom
and humor. Let's take a cab the rest of the way. I need to get naked with
you."
"What's the matter with Central Park? It's dark in there. I used
to think it was the only place I'd ever have sex again. And Mother Teresa,
you did save me. We both know it. You saw me through rehab. You found
the blind singing coach. You got me the first voice-over gigs. You remade
me, and I love you. Not just because you gave me a new life or because
you're so incredible in bed. No, you really are proud of me and proud to
be with me. You can't know what that means."
"Where's a taxi when you really need one? In the movies, they pull
right up on cue."
"Not yet, Walter Breckinridge Foster. I haven't finished. I love
you because from the very first night I spent in your bedroom, you've taken
our clothes off and left the lights on. You're the strong one. You can
look at me and not wince. I can't. When I shave, I see myself in the
mirror and I still flinch. After all these years. You'd think I'd be used
to it, wouldn't you?"
"Don't talk any more, Jake. Let's go back to laughing. At last,
there's a cab."
"Okay, lover. Okay. But please, do one more thing for me. Let me
grow a beard again. So I don't make people like Liam and Stu cringe. And
so that I won't have to shave anymore. It's just getting so hard to go on
laughing."