Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 09:22:55 -0600
From: Michael Yost <myost@charter.net>
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!