Boys Night Out

We were all out together, celebrating a friend’s birthday. Max was there with Stella and George - fraternal twins Max has under his spell, you gotta hand it to him. Even, he who shall not be mentioned, was there.

We’d danced. We’d drank. We’d laughed. At around 2am, I wanted to leave. The others had left earlier, somehow I felt free as a bird - what are those initials, N.W.M. So I stayed out late on a puff of T, maybe a few puffs and I picked up a drunk straight boy, Andre, a friend in my group of friends. I had a vague thought about Club 80, but, kind of knew, once I got home and had a j, I wouldn’t venture out again.

Andre and I knew each other kind of well. It was only because of locality that we were thrust together; he lives in Carlton, we decided to share a taxi.

Andre’s cute, sexy really. Strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, athletic, lean, muscular. He had on an akubra and a black singlet. His face was in shadow under the peak, as he smiled at me bleary-eyed in the back of the taxi. We’d all done d's, we were messy.

He used to smile when I checked out his sizeable bulge on the dance floor; dance away, float on the music. Turn back and smile despite himself. He's got solid thighs that fame a bulge worth looking at.

“What are you like, drunk,” I said. He looked so funny, eyes half closed, grinning, flushed red, sweating.

He laughed. “I become a bit of an exhibitionist,” he said. He’d misunderstood the question, but the answer was interesting.

Andre was one of the fringe straight boys of our group. He’d started off as a school buddy of one of the gay boys. He screwed one of our girlfriends’, for a time. A Greek girl, before she headed back to the homeland for good, never to be seen again. They’d had an on again off again relationship, which lasted long enough for Andre to endear himself into our group without too many problems.

He looked sexy.

“Do drugs make you horny?” I asked. My confidence was up.

He smiled self consciously and pushed down on his lap, subconsciously, and laughed. “All I need now is a joint and he’d be talking to me.” He looked down at his crotch, then looked back at me and raised his eyebrows, as if to say, you know what I mean.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve got pot.” Sexy, I thought

"Sweet."

The taxi stopped in front of my place. Andre gave the taxi driver a bunch of notes and then got out with me. The taxi drove away.

I looked through my keys, more by feel than by sight. It was dark.

"So, is this what it's like?"

"What?" I said. I flicked the keys through my fingers, not really concentrating on Andre.

"To pick up another guy," said Andre. "Take him home. Get to his place."

I found my key.

"The anticipation?"

I headed to the gate. "Usually, we'd be stealing looks at each other, at this stage." I looked back "You know, make sure you picked right." I took him in with a long gaze. "Weren't too drunk, too out of it, made do." My face creased into a smile. The night air was cool. "Point of no return."

I pushed the gate, it squeaked. The hibiscus stroked the top of my head. "Duck," I whispered. The sensor light didn't come on. Must have been turned off. Most likely by me. I stepped to the door and dropped my keys, just as I went to push them into the lock.

"Fuck," I said.

"Dropped your keys, mate?" Andre slurred. Then he giggled that drunk boy giggle.

My fingers caught the ring of metal, by my foot. The front door key has a plastic trim thing, just for such occasions. It's fatter and curvy. I held it tight between my fingers.

Just one lamp was on, the orange rock lamp, giving the room a dark, confined feel. The fire was still burning. I threw some more wood on, some smaller bits to make it burn. I got the mull bowl and sat down with it on the big couch. Andre was unsteady on his feet. He stood in front of the fire, naturally.

"So the big gay house, hey?" Andre took his hat off, his hair was messy, longer than it normally was. It still looked good on him. He chewed gum seriously.

"The big gay house," he said.

I reached for cigarettes. "I haven't heard it referred to as that for a while." The (ex)party house still had a reputation in some parts. I licked the edge of the cigarette and it fell apart.

"All you guys were out tonight," said Andre. "That's a rarity."

"David wasn't there."

Rarity? I didn't think that was true. I pulled a bud from the bag. Shane was out more, than David or me, but we were out often enough. "All toey, I guess," I said. I looked up, as I started to grind the mix, gazing at Andre's jeans. Sliding my eyes to Andre's face.

He smiled, as he spoke, "Shane picked up."

"No, ate out." I smiled back. The mix was done, I put the grinder down.

"Is Shane home?"

"Maybe?" I picked one of Shane's old business cards and the red scissors. "He said he wasn't coming home. Staying with a friend." I cut a narrow strip from the end of the business card. "Maybe?" I rolled the thin strip of card up and slid it into the rolling machine.

Andre's eyes were half closed. He bounced on the balls of his feet. Click. A perfectly cylindrical joint rolled out of the top of the rolling machine.

"Sure wish I picked up, speaking of toey." He rubbed his hands down his thighs, as though he was too nervous to rub anywhere else.

I handed him the joint in one hand and a lighter in the other.

"I've got porn. David's not home. I can tell you he'd love you to jack off in his bed."

Andre lit the joint and inhaled deeply. He inhaled a second time. Held it. Looked in pain. Breathed in again.

"That's the best offer." He exhaled in a balloon of smoke. "I've had all night," said Andre. He sucked on the joint twice more, before he handed it back to me.

He rotated in front of the fire. Nice chunky arse, his jeans fitted him well. Well defined crack up the middle. A hand for each.

"Relieve the tension," I said.

Both his hands slid in front of him.

"Guys who don't jack off are like girls on the rag. They get moody and bitchy," said Andre. "I know I do, if it's been a few days."

He squeezed his shoulders together and pushed his arms straight gown in front of him and stretched his back.

"Gay or straight," I said.

He rotated back to face me, clasping his hands behind him.

"If you say you don't wank you're a liar," said Andre. "A fool if you say that you do."

I could see his cock out to the left in the front of his pants. I realised I was staring, I shook my head and looked away.

I looked up and took his gaze. "Why? Because somebody will want to touch it?" I said.

He slid his hands in front of him, intertwining his fingers.

"I can't imagine any dude who does not masturbate." He pushed his hands against the front of his jeans. "I don't care how much sex they get, guys are still going do it, cause there is something special about jerking off." said Andre. "You can totally control the pleasure, you can fantasize about that dude you saw at the mall, or that babe you want to fuck, whatever. It's just a major part of EVERY guys sex life." He smiled. "I mean why the hell would anyone deprive themselves of man's greatest pastime?"

He had a big, sexy grin on his face. I was getting turned on. I wanted to say, go on then... and then just gaze as he talked.

I handed him the joint. I'm sure the bulge in his pants was getting bigger, as he took the joint. It was probably my messed up imagination. He put the smoke to his lips and looked down his front, as he inhaled. He leant back against the mantle piece and exhaled the smoke towards the ceiling. I lay back in the couch. His jeans were definitely fuller. He watched me gazing at his crotch, with that flushed, expectant look on his face. Fixed gaze, just his lips sucking.

He handed the joint back to me.

"So, what now?" he said in a husky voice. He cleared his throat, holding my gaze.

I shrugged, lazily. A question that didn't, really, need to be answered.

He held the joint out to me. I took it and dragged hard and lay my head against the back of the couch. "I dunno. I'm fucked."

My neck felt good, all of a sudden, with the weight of my head taken away. My neck suddenly felt like it had been seized up, for hours. I stretched it from side to side. I could have just closed my eyes and drifted off. My peripheral vision had faded to black. Just the lamp and the open fire, the light in the room was yellow. I was floating.

"I guess you want to have sex with me," slurred Andre. "Do you want to have sex?"

I nearly laughed. Kind of a nervous reaction. I stuffed the joint into my mouth and drew in long and hard, as nervous eyes darted from me to the floor, where they stayed. I gave myself time to digest what Andre had just said. I didn't know what to say. It seemed like such a cliché. My eyesight was blurred. There were three Andre's lined up neatly across the mantelpiece, all gazing down at their feet. Of course, there were three mantelpieces and three walls and three rooms... more worlds. I shook my head. I closed my eyes. I must have imagined it, surely? Did he really say that?

There was silence until Andre spoke of how he loved the music, Costes, la suite.

We did more, Andre had them. It was my suggestion. We crashed soon after, we didn't need them. Piggy and piggy.