Mardi Gras
I took Daniel to Mardi Gras, together with Nick, Mike and Mick.
We got to Sydney Saturday morning.
There was a mix up of sorts and we got a double room in the hotel we'd booked into, with a double bed rather than a single bed. What could we do, they didn’t have any other rooms?
“We thought you were a couple,” said the gay receptionist, giving us both the look up and down.
“We’re brothers,” I said.
“Oh really, pity,” he said. Then he smiled. “Or maybe not.” He raised his eyebrows.
Nick had a room to himself.
Mike and Mick had a double room together, but I don’t think that was a mix up, Mick had left Rachel in Melbourne for a reason, although I didn’t ask.
We went out for a pasta lunch.
We slept in the afternoon. We got up around 5pm and started getting ready.
Nick was in our room earlyish, he was very excited. He had on the tightest pair of black shorts and a black fun fur jacket splattered in red paint. “I said it was artificial,” said Nick, as he came through the door. “Those fucken bitches wouldn’t listen.”
I laughed.
“Aren’t you guys ready yet?” said Nick.
“We’ve got hours, yet,” I said.
“I don’t want to be late.”
“I bought shorts,” said Daniel.
“No, don’t worry about that,” said Nick. “We’ve got you covered.”
“We got matching outfits,” I said. I pulled, even I have to admit, what looked like a scrap of lycra out of my case. “Here.”
“How am I supposed to get into that…”
“They stretch,” said Nick. “You’ll look great. Try them on.”
“They’ll fit,” I said. “I’ve tried them on.”
“You don’t want them to sag,” said Nick taking them out of my hand. He stretched them out in his hands like a slingshot. “You want them to be gripping you the same at the end of the night, as they did at the beginning.” Nick fired them at Daniel. He caught them.
“It was either that or undies,” I said.
Daniel disappeared into the bathroom. He came back out with the lycra shorts hugging every one of his curves.
He stood in front of us, I thought he looked great. His body chiselled from his obsessive gym regime, 7 days a week for Daniel, and sexy because the shorts gripped him precisely how you’d want them too.
“Lose the undies,” said Nick.
6.30pm. Daniel and I in matching red shorts, Nick in black shorts, Mike in long black tights and a black t-shirt and Mick in jeans and a t-shirt. We all dropped pills together.
Nick had done lines on the kitchen bench, one by one we snorted them up with a fifty dollar bill.
We got a good position on the street, just up from Taylor Square.
The parade was big, colourful and loud and it wandered passed like a monster on the prowl.
I held Daniel’s hand the whole time of the parade.
“I’m not losing you.”
“I don’t want you to lose me.”
I hugged him as the floats went by.
He hugged me as the floats went by.
We walked behind the parade to the show grounds.
We dropped more pills before we went into the party.
Ah, the big, gay carnival, it has been a few years since I'd been to Mardi Gras.
We danced all night together. Daniel and I in our matching red shorts. Nick wore just shorts too, he'd lost the fun fur for the party.
I can’t tell you how many friends and acquaintances asked who Daniel was.
“Have you got a new guy?”
“No, I’ve had him all my life.”
“Sorry dohl, I don’t understand."
“He’s my brother.”
“Your parents should get an award.”
“He’s straight.
“Well, I guess we can’t win all the time.”
The music was great. The dance floor was crowded. There was a great E vibe. Everyone was smiling, if they could manage a facial expression at all. People leered, smiled, made eyes, licked, kissed hugged, touched, patted, rubbed in the heaving, seething mass.
The time flew.
So much flesh, so little material covering it.
There were shows. “Hey,” said Daniel. “Why drag queens, actually, can’t sing?” That made me laugh.
“Because they are basically gay men who have no talent for anything.”
“They look amazing…”
“Okay, the talent is in the name.”
We got to Sydney Saturday morning.
There was a mix up of sorts and we got a double room in the hotel we'd booked into, with a double bed rather than a single bed. What could we do, they didn’t have any other rooms?
“We thought you were a couple,” said the gay receptionist, giving us both the look up and down.
“We’re brothers,” I said.
“Oh really, pity,” he said. Then he smiled. “Or maybe not.” He raised his eyebrows.
Nick had a room to himself.
Mike and Mick had a double room together, but I don’t think that was a mix up, Mick had left Rachel in Melbourne for a reason, although I didn’t ask.
We went out for a pasta lunch.
We slept in the afternoon. We got up around 5pm and started getting ready.
Nick was in our room earlyish, he was very excited. He had on the tightest pair of black shorts and a black fun fur jacket splattered in red paint. “I said it was artificial,” said Nick, as he came through the door. “Those fucken bitches wouldn’t listen.”
I laughed.
“Aren’t you guys ready yet?” said Nick.
“We’ve got hours, yet,” I said.
“I don’t want to be late.”
“I bought shorts,” said Daniel.
“No, don’t worry about that,” said Nick. “We’ve got you covered.”
“We got matching outfits,” I said. I pulled, even I have to admit, what looked like a scrap of lycra out of my case. “Here.”
“How am I supposed to get into that…”
“They stretch,” said Nick. “You’ll look great. Try them on.”
“They’ll fit,” I said. “I’ve tried them on.”
“You don’t want them to sag,” said Nick taking them out of my hand. He stretched them out in his hands like a slingshot. “You want them to be gripping you the same at the end of the night, as they did at the beginning.” Nick fired them at Daniel. He caught them.
“It was either that or undies,” I said.
Daniel disappeared into the bathroom. He came back out with the lycra shorts hugging every one of his curves.
He stood in front of us, I thought he looked great. His body chiselled from his obsessive gym regime, 7 days a week for Daniel, and sexy because the shorts gripped him precisely how you’d want them too.
“Lose the undies,” said Nick.
6.30pm. Daniel and I in matching red shorts, Nick in black shorts, Mike in long black tights and a black t-shirt and Mick in jeans and a t-shirt. We all dropped pills together.
Nick had done lines on the kitchen bench, one by one we snorted them up with a fifty dollar bill.
We got a good position on the street, just up from Taylor Square.
The parade was big, colourful and loud and it wandered passed like a monster on the prowl.
I held Daniel’s hand the whole time of the parade.
“I’m not losing you.”
“I don’t want you to lose me.”
I hugged him as the floats went by.
He hugged me as the floats went by.
We walked behind the parade to the show grounds.
We dropped more pills before we went into the party.
Ah, the big, gay carnival, it has been a few years since I'd been to Mardi Gras.
We danced all night together. Daniel and I in our matching red shorts. Nick wore just shorts too, he'd lost the fun fur for the party.
I can’t tell you how many friends and acquaintances asked who Daniel was.
“Have you got a new guy?”
“No, I’ve had him all my life.”
“Sorry dohl, I don’t understand."
“He’s my brother.”
“Your parents should get an award.”
“He’s straight.
“Well, I guess we can’t win all the time.”
The music was great. The dance floor was crowded. There was a great E vibe. Everyone was smiling, if they could manage a facial expression at all. People leered, smiled, made eyes, licked, kissed hugged, touched, patted, rubbed in the heaving, seething mass.
The time flew.
So much flesh, so little material covering it.
There were shows. “Hey,” said Daniel. “Why drag queens, actually, can’t sing?” That made me laugh.
“Because they are basically gay men who have no talent for anything.”
“They look amazing…”
“Okay, the talent is in the name.”
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