Coda Josh Grant

I woke to the image of Danny’s sleeping face on the pillow across the room from me. I got up quietly. Chubby jumped down off the bed with a crash. Danny didn’t wake. I felt fine, I went to bed relatively early, and you don’t get a hangover with pot. The sun was shining. I made coffee and cut up some fruit. Chubby and I sat on the deck and ate the fruit. Chubby loves bananas and apples the best. Then we were preparing a real breakfast, muesli for me and chow for Chubby, when Danny emerged from the bedroom, just dressed in his stripy jocks. “Good morning.” “Good morning,” I said. There was Danny standing in front of me a vision of blond surfer boy in undies. “Oh, I need some coffee.” Danny has great muscular legs and as he stepped in front of me to get to the coffee machine, a really sexy arse on him. “You missed a good night playing cards.” He has a really thick sausage on him, which lay sideways in his jocks like a club. Well, I may have regrets, but I’m not dead. The coffee machine wh...

Danny and I got more and more shitfaced on pot. The waves crashed on the beach in front of us. I’m always entranced by that sound, the sound of never ending power of the planet. It is the voice of the earth, saying I have been here for billions of years, I will be here for a billion more. I had some pasta that I’d made, which I bought down with me. “Do you fancy some pasta,” I asked Danny.” “I fancy something,” slurred Danny. “It’s puttanesca tomatoes, olive oil, anchovies, olives, capers and garlic.” “Isn’t that what they used to call their slut daughters?” “Well, yes, the whore’s pasta.” “You are kidding.” “No, supposedly the prostitutes in Naples could cook it up between clients… allegedly.” “Let’s hope they washed their hands.” “How do you know this stuff?” “I’ve lived with whore all my life?” “Seriously?” How adorable. “No.” Danny held my gaze, I assume he was waiting for me to laugh. I didn’t. I smiled to myself. “I’ll get the pasta.” We ate the pasta. We drank some red wine. I w...

I stretched out on the deck and read. The sun shone down all afternoon. Chubby lay by my feet. The fresh air, the smell of the sea, the view over the tea trees, and the solitude kept me company all day. I smoked some pot, drank some tea. Chubby and I ate some bananas. I intended to go down through the tea trees to the beach, but I never quite made it. Danny came up after a day of surfing. He came up onto the deck with his wetsuit pulled down to his waist, his muscles rippling, his blond hair hanging wet and shaggy, his face tanned. “Hey, how are you?” he asked. “Yeah, good. Been surfing?” “Yeah, everything hurts just a bit.” “It’s good for ya,” I said. I resisted the urge to offer him a massage. “Beats me sitting here on my arse all day.’ “It’s a good spot,” said Danny. “It’s a good day for it.” “Yes,” I said. He pulled up the other chair and sat down next to me. Chubby got up and stuck his face in Danny’s crotch. “Oh, hey, Chubster mate,” said Danny. “You’d real...

I got up, Danny was still sleeping. I didn’t wake him. I let Chubby out. I made coffee and crumpets. Amanda likes crumpets for breakfast down the beach, funny how you do the same according to location. I was on the deck drinking coffee when Danny appeared at the folding doors. The sun was shining, the morning was bright. “Hey,” said Danny. “Good morning. Chubby got to his feet and wiggled his arse as he walked over to Danny. “Chubster,” said Danny as he squatted down to pat Chubby. “How did you sleep?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself. “Yeah,” he said. “Good. You?” “Yeah, good, a bit hung over,” I said. “Do you want some coffee?” “No, I might head off, actually,” he said. “Oh, okay then.” “See you then…” he said. “Okay.” He stood in the doorway as though he wanted to say something else. I stood looking at him waiting for him to say it. We both stood there looking at each other, until he turned awkwardly and left. I looked at Chubby. He looked at me. “Another fine mess, hey Chubby?” Chub...

We all stayed up late, over at the Carruthers house, drank heavily, smoked heaps, playing 500. I was a bit out of it myself, when I headed for bed. Dan and I stumbled down the road together. He came back from a shower before bed just in a towel, it was tied low across his hips and knotted above his cock. I was lying on my bed with a blanket over me, a position I assumed for his return, when I saw him head for the shower. He chatted lingeringly in front of me in the white cotton wrap. "Good shower?" "Yeah... relaxes me." "I nearly came in for one myself." "You should have." He kind of hesitated on have, I'm sure he thought he sounded too keen. "Wash the smoke and the booze off me." He smiled nervously. I lay on my bed and gazed at him, as he found topics to talk about. "Great game." "Yes," I said. "I love these nights playing cards." "Yeah, me too." "It's really...

I packed Chubby into the car and spent the weekend down the beach house, down the Great Ocean Road. It was warm but wet. It rained and it was humid, a bit humid, more humid than I am used to it being. Cooler than it had been earlier in the month, which I liked. It was fresh and new and alive, or it felt that way, at least. Some of the neighbours were down, some of the parents, some of the kids. The summer was starting, most of the families are down when it is hot and they are on holidays. More traditional than availability, more habit than wellbeing. Amanda and her early morning dips, with some of the other women. Rick being one of the guys with a stubby in his hand on any one of the decks on any given night. Danny was there. 19 year old Danny the next door neighbours son. I've known him for quite a while, watched him grown up, we've had the house down there for years, as has his family. Strawberry blond, buff, one of the guys, a surfer boy. He’d been surfing since his earl...

Walking in the park with my dog, is there anything better. You can keep your meditation.

Chubby and I headed into the Carlton Gardens earlyish, 8am, for our morning walk. Chubby gets that look on his face as he trots along next to me, as though he is surveying his territory. The noble breed of the English Bulldog out surveying his lands. If dogs come up to him, more often than not, he gives them a sideways glance as if to say, Don’t bother me now, I’m busy walking with my human, can’t you see that I am busy. It was on this very morning that we were stopped by some chick who was eager to exercise the powers bestowed upon her. “Sir, do you know it is a requirement that you have your dog leashed at all times whilst (I’m not at all sure she used whilst, however) in the gardens.” “He just walks next to me with the same relationship to him being on a lead.” “Yes, but the rules state he must be on a lead.” “What is the difference?” “He is not complying with the law.” “He is under my control.” “You can’t guarantee that with him unleashed. “Yes, I can.” “I am ...

Monday morning comes around really quickly again. I seem to be living for Monday mornings. I think this, perhaps, says more about how meaningless my life is at the moment. Note to self, try to find more meaning in life. My Monday morning boy. After Daniel goes to work, not because he has gone to work, just how it turns out. Tall, handsome, athletic, what’s not to look forward to? When I say tall, I’m saying my height. I can look him straight in the eyes, which is my ideal height. Anoop’s in small running shorts and a singlet and a hoodie, he has run over here. He’s sweaty, which is a bonus. The shorts show off his great legs and the curve of his sexy arse. He says it’s his new fitness routine, he says he is doing it for aesthetic reasons, and not for health. “I guess that is pretty shallow?” “No, not really, we all want to look good.” “The worry is that shallow is a disease we are all catching it, do you think?” I slide my hand in the open leg of Anoop’s shorts and fondle his balls in ...

That's Marcus. He doesn't have a bad centimetre anywhere on his body. All of him is nice. And he's very happy to make 'nice' with anyone who wants to make 'nice' with him.

Monday morning, sunny and warm, summer is in the air, the sky is blue, shinning in through the glass roof, as I stand bleary-eyed at the coffee bean grinder. The doorbell rings, what time is it, I think? I'm hardly awake, I'm feeling slow. I stayed up until late watching Sunday night teev. Oh, who am I kidding, I stayed up late looking at porn on the Internet. Is this the life that I expected my university education to prepare me for? There was Anoop looking all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, positively sparkling, I may have said. The sight of him wakes me up. He's excited, he wants to be my slave boy. I take him back to bed, holding onto his hand, he's compliant. I turn him around and wrap my arms around him and undo his jeans, without saying a word. I pull them down, I ogle his hairy thighs as I bend him over. Gorgeous brown skin covered in black hair. I pull his jocks down over his bubble butt as I lay him face down on the bed. I spread his cheeks and slide my tongue ...

It's hot and sticky. I can feel the sweat running down my arse crack, as I go walking. If I wasn't so uncomfortable with the heat, I'd find it a turn on. Ha ha, queue the prudish squeaks and the wincing. Sticky sweat is okay if you are in shorts and a singlet, not so good if you are wearing much more. Oh, I do hate that feeling of sweat down my back under clothes. Hot so your armpits are wet. Hot so your thighs are slippery when you walk. Hot so that you feel it wet on your forehead. Hot so you feel it drip from your forehead into your eyes. You know, when your clothes stick to you and the hot wind blows through you. You know when it forms a wet moustache on your top lip. You know when your arse slides on the toilet seat when you take a shit. You know, when you can’t change quick enough into something cool. You know when you feel exhausted by it and feel a fool.

Candy bought over some pink and tiger striped cushions she thought would look nice in our lounge room. Daniel raised his eyebrows. I don't mind them.

There's a knock at the door early. When I open it, I see Pippa on the other side. "Just thought I'd pop over for a chat?" "Sure, come in." I guide her past me with my hand. I guess I knew what it was about, only one thing it could be, really. She marched ahead of me to the lounge room and paced like a trapped lioness. "Tea?" "No thanks." "Wine?" "Goodness me," big eyes, "it's a little early... isn't it?" I got the distinct impression that maybe it wasn't, although good form certainly wasn't going to let her give in. "It's about Angelo, isn't it?" "What am I to make of it? Him?" I guess it was okay when he was just getting his cock sucked by another bloke, but son number one was now in love, which put a whole new spin on her faggot child. "He's fallen for your handsome son, as Tommy has fallen for him. It's not difficult to understand. What do you mean?...

Chubby and I took each other out for lunch. My number one boy. He’s handsome, he’s loyal, he’s easy going, and he only has eyes for me. What’s not to love. We walked through the gardens to Gertrude Street and ate on a table on the footpath at one of our, my favourite cafes. Chubby got a lovely plastic take away container of fresh water, which he slopped everywhere. Everybody he meets seems to love him. “Hello handsome,” said one of the old ladies today. She reached down and patted his head. Chubby looked up at her with a smile. People seem genuinely enchanted with him trotting along next to me off his lead. Every time we go for a walk somebody says “He’s a beautiful dog.” And he is. "Come on Chub, let's go."

That's Nigel. He is a great runner. He's got runners legs. He's got a runner's arse in those tiny little running shorts that he wears.

Monday morning, sunny and warm, the sky is blue, shinning in through the kitchen window, as I push the button on the coffee machine. I'm hardly awake, I’m rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I went to bed late, after forming a smoking circle of death for one, then I tossed and turned thinking about Steve. “I think we should have a break while I am in Sydney,” said Steve. Just like that, out it came. I was bowled over, actually. “I’m going tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow, did they ask you today?” He’s telling me Sunday night. “No, last week.” “And you are telling me now. “Well, yes, I had a lot to think about.” Clearly, none of that thinking included me. I sat on my back veranda and sipped my coffee. “Well, there you go,” I say out loud. I… um? I… er… um? I… ah? Um? I guess we will see. I couldn’t think anything else. What else was there to think? We were on a break. I think of Ross Geller.

Steve's gone to Sydney to work for three months, his company has sent him, they said they needed their most experienced guy to sort out whatever it was they wanted sorted out. Is it just my natural cynicism that suspects that saying they needed their most experienced employee is just a tool to get the employee to go without protest. All that smoke being blown up your arse makes you forget what they are asking you to do. Anyway, Steve said he wanted to have a break while he is away. Something about me not putting in the required amount of effort to the two of us... something like that. I mean, I guess, I should have listened, which may, or may not be, part of the problem, but I was so stunned by the words, "I want a break." I have to admit that I didn't listen as closely as I perhaps should have to the rest of what he was saying. Huh? I'm sorry, but I thought we were having a mature, adult relationship. Where has this come from? “I thought we were good?” ...

That's Trevor, he's a builder. He spends his life hanging out on building sights with all the other builders. He's very good at the macho talk when he is around his work mates. I don't think any of them know that Trevor likes guys. "Yeah, Josh, I am leading a double life, so what of it?" "Oh, nothing Trav, as long as you are happy." "Yeah, sure, I'm fucken happy. As fucken happy as the next guy."

Tommy has befriended a nice group of guys at uni. If my uni days were anything to go by, they'd all still be finding their feet, it would all be somewhat new to them still. Kind of, I guess, the newness would be wearing off about now too. Tommy hasn't managed to tell anyone he's gay yet. He said he doesn't know why. "It's just hard to say, you know." "You got to sometime." "I know, but I want to be friends first." They all went out for a boozy night, dinner, drinks, all a bit pissed by midnight. It was the core group of about four, or five and a few friends of the guys, one of which was an Italian guy named Angelo. Tommy didn't know him very well, but he'd seen him about, he was in a few of Tommy's lectures. By the end of the night, there was just a couple of them left, Angelo was one of them. Tommy said he didn't feel like going home, he was enjoying being out, having a break from his studies. It has just been study and...

Rich is smooth all over. His skin is like chamois leather. You just want to run your fingertips over him continuously. He doesn't mind, either. He'll let you.

Daniel whirled out of the house in a flash of toast in the mouth, shirt undone, sexy brother abs showing, sports bag under one arm, smiling, saying, “Good bye, got to go, I’m late, do I look okay,” as I stepped into the hallway this morning, bleary-eyed, half awake, just cracked the crypt open. “You could try buttoning your shirt.” Instantly, I felt like Amanda. He stops in front of me, waving the toast in his hand, kind of panting. His shirt had fallen open, kind of curtains to his sexy pecs and his abs cut just so. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, is this still okay? Me living here? You and me?” “Yes.” It was all I could manage. “Thanks.” And then he was gone. “Button up your shirt.” The front door banged shut and then it was still and quiet. My head spun and I was left contemplating how our parents were once proud of their two sons, in the stillness, in the quiet. I looked down at my stained bed t-shirt and my crappy tracky pants and then looked back at the closed front door, which ha...

Lachlan got really out of it with his gay friends and they put him in the smallest shorts they could find and then they covered him in baby oil.

My life has turned into one long shagfest since I quit work. Funny, I saw hours of contemplation and solitude to work out why I hate life and the world so much. Well, while I don’t actively want anything bad to happen to my fellow man, I don’t really see the point of saving the human race if the human race can’t stop polluting its home planet. If that’s what it wants to do, then it is going down, and we might as well let some other species have a shot at the earth. You know what I mean, what is all the fuss about. 50% of the human race is eating itself to death, and the other 50% is starving, you know when you look at it, us humans haven’t really been all that successful. And I am okay with that. Why try and save them? Humans have basically proved themselves to be morons. I’ve got every reason to like all and sundry. I’ve been quite privileged, but it just doesn’t manifest itself that way. People are boring and self focused and the world is spinning to hell and no one seems to care. Th...

Nigel is a very nice guy. He is very accommodating, if he likes you. Just don't go running with him, as he runs like the wind. A better activity to do with him, is something where you both stay relatively still. Well, something you can do together in the same spot. He is damn good at that too.

The doorbell rung just as my coffee pot began to boil. I was a step each way, as I contemplated which to get first, which, of course, was the coffee pot, it just had to be. I comforted myself with the thought of it being a power company salesman, or some religious nut knocking on the door to Sodom, unwittingly. Perhaps one of those clean cut Mormon boys. “Oh doooooo cum in.” There was a part of me that said it might be Anoop, he'd dropped by for the last few Mondays. Tommy had stopped visiting since he got himself a boyfriend, Angelo. Oh yes, I don't think I have told you that development as yet. And like the ducks in the shooting gallery, Anoop popped up to replace him. Anoop doesn't have lectures until the afternoon, but his father still drops him off early, on his way to work, oblivious. Anoop hadn't bothered to correct the lie, he's been coming to my place and doing penance instead. He has his advantages to Tommy, it's just sex with Anoop. Kiss me, lick me, ...