Nick to the Backroom

SMS. 9.04. Morning Miss – Christian

Lovely, slow, holiday type mornings in bed. Gotta love them. I read my book until Manny called to say that his back was no better and could I drive him to the doctor.

I had let slip to him, early in the week, that I was on holidays, so some "sweet Greek action" would be coming my way. But alas, I’m just a taxi service for the infirmed. So…

I had to go up to Sebastian’s room to get some clean washing. Lying on his bed were a pair of jersey, shorty jocks, he had taken off, lying in a three-dimensional pose as though Sebastian was lying on his bed on his stomach, one hip prone. I wanted to pick them up and bury my face in them. Nobody would ever know. I’m good at putting things back exactly as I find them, not that Sebastian would remember how he left his jocks. I wanted to smell his arse crack up the back seam. I wanted to smell his foreskin around the fly.

Off to Manny’s, to drive him to the doctor. Josh came with me. The first thing poor, twisted, in pain Manny whispered in my ear was, “Why did you bring him?” Sexy smile. Coy look. I thought he was crippled up in pain?

Josh and I had lunch in Prahran Market and then bought each other books in Hares and Hyenas. I bought Josh Dead Europe. Josh bought me Myra and Myron.

Josh went to see Tom and Manny and I went shopping…only at Coles, nothing exciting. Manny sat at the front of the shop patiently because he didn’t want to walk any further. Men in my life and back problems? Manny, Mark, Dad, all exactly the same.

All of the male store hands seemed to be young, gorgeous and gay. Unblemished olive-skin, dark hair and big brown eyes. It was very distracting. It made me think of sex. It made me think of Manny, as I wandered the unfamiliar isles. I was thinking, I should just marry Manny and settle down with him. Why shouldn’t I? No boyfriend is perfect. What do you think universe? Just as I thought that, I kid you not, the announcement came over the store’s address system.

“Nick to the back room please, Nick to the backroom.” Of all the names it could have been. I took it as a sign not to marry Manny.

SMS. 13.08. (Tom) Over the P.A. in Coles they just said, Nick to the back room please, Nick. Makes me want to go and check out the back room – Christian

SMS. 13.42. Do it! – Tom

Manny and I dropped my shopping back home, before I took him home to his place. Manny lay down on my bed and unbuttoned his jeans.

“I thought you were crippled in pain?” I said.

He pulled his shirt off. “I’m not that crippled in pain.” He said with a husky voice. “Come here.”

It was so nice to see him with his shirt off and his pants around his thighs. He has a beautiful cock, just the right meat for me to suck into my mouth.

Manny has a sex look, kind of dark and brooding, it pushes all of my buttons. I love the way we kiss, eating each other’s lips. I love how our pants come down so easily for each other. If only I could get him to open up his relationship just to include me, you know, to make up for Johnny’s lack of enthusiasm in having sex. Johnny has no sex drive, strange for a late twenty year old. Johnny love’s the social, I love the cuddles. It could be perfect.

Manny didn’t want me to spoof on him, he didn’t want Johnny to smell. The boyfriend issue, I hadn’t given it a second thought, when it actually came down to succumbing to Manny’s charms.

Josh was home when I got back from Manny’s.

I like the smell of Manny’ sex, I like it to remain on me, so I don’t shower.

Josh greeted me with… now Tom knows the both sides of what went on last Friday night. Josh had got snaky with me, over semantics really. He said something about a dance party, last weekend. He said that I had said that “I could have told him about it.” I told him that I couldn’t have said that because I didn’t know there was a dance party on. Josh telling me was the first I’d heard about the dance party. Off it went from there… both of us determined to make out point…both as stubborn as each other. It just deteriorated into unpleasantness in the end, with Josh insisting that I did and me insisting that I didn’t. I was left wondering if it had something to do with Josh’s, being used to speaking German, intonation which was making the two of us misunderstand each other. Maybe, Josh had adopted a European kind of sensibility and I’m just missing his meaning because of it. We just seem to be arguing the whole time. No funny Christian. No funny Josh. It’s quite odd, not how we usually are with each other. I think I need to have an Ab household for when Josh comes to visit. I could live with Ab and Josh, if Ab got her finances together.

Josh views Tim’s views on Asians as an unforgivable sin. Maybe, I should try to state the obvious to Josh, that maybe he has to be a little more clever than that and he should allow for the hate factor, or lack there of – let percentage of venom make a big difference and not just to listen to the words. Sure, Tim calls the Vietnamese Milk Bar owner China, but he doesn’t say it with any kind of hate. I know, I’m making excuses for Tim... but Josh is just picking fights about anything.

I walked away and got very interested in Shelly’s email.

Josh scuttled off to his room.

Subject: Hello

Well hi there!

Very interesting email!! Intending to! Let’s hope it is soon! The couch is no fun!

5.00am in the morning – your creative juices were working well!

How is sunny Melb?

Life is sweet – went to see Daryl Braithwaite a couple of weeks ago and last week went to see Renee Geyer – both fab nights – oh how I reminisced!

Be good, be careful, be safe!

When are you coming to Perth?

Shell xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Subject: Hello

Shell

How the fuck are ya?

It’s a gorgeous day today; wintry sun, blue sky and a gentle breeze. And I’m on holidays. Yay!

But, I’ve been to the dentist, who is now sending me to a specialist, next Thursday, to save my gums. My best mate is in hospital for some months, my favourite sexy boy has buggered his back and I have a lovely friend staying from Germany. So with trips to hossy, trips to sports injury clinics and entertaining my friend in between, it’s not leaving much time for me. Me! ME! And we hate that, as I know you will understand.

Not to mention that I must deal with my sundry cars, get them to the sales people, so I can slip the money onto my mortgage. And the car I drive seems to be illuminating another warning light every time I drive it. So, I guess, I should take head…er…heed and take the wretched thing to the service man.

None of this sounds like big fun for Christian on holidays – friend from Germany withstanding.

I did get a root though, but don’t tell anyone, as he now has a partner with who he is having a monogamous relationship… against my vows to be sure, (I have no desire to be confronted by an irate boyfriend) but what is a boy to do when he has a cute bloke panting down his shirt collar for him? I ask you?

I saw Renee Geyer not so long ago and she was fantastic.

I’m rarely good, as the previous admission may indicate, but I’m very careful and always good at it!

Big (contented) smile.

Perth? That’s a capital city somewhere in the west, isn’t it?

Christian

Josh went upstairs to his room, in a huff. I went to bed to read the rest of Vanity Fierce, firmly shutting my bedroom door in the process. If Josh wants to be snaky, let him, but I don’t have to stick around to be a part of it.

He was off to see Christos, soon after.

There was something in my book that reminded me of the thought. I had the other day, and again sometime before that, of telling mum that Mark and I are not really boyfriends any more. Things have happened, or things that I have read, have made me think about it lately. It has never occurred to me, before now. And there is no point to it, really, other than the truth.

SMS. 16.37. (Tom) Do you think that I should tell my mum that Mark and I are no longer boyfriends? – Christian

SMS. 16.48. (Rachel) Lying in bed with a good book & new bed linen, the gentle glow of the sun @ the window, on holidays. It’s quiet. Lovely! – Christian

SMS. 16.50. (Rachel) Did I mention, I’m post-Greek-boy sex, too? – Christian

SMS. 16.50. Un yeah, I suppose… Wait till she hears about yr financial arrangements Miss!! x – Tom

SMS. 16.53. (Tom) Lying in bed with a good book & new bed linen, the gentle glow of the sun @ the window. It’s quiet. Lovely! – Christian

SMS. 16.53. Lovely! – Tom

SMS. 16.54. (Tom) She knows my financial arrangements – Christian

SMS. 16.57. (Tom) It’s all lovely. I’m (feeling) lovely – Christian

SMS. 16.57. You are, I am, even Josh Gale is lovely! – Tom

SMS. 16.58. (Tom) You’re lovely too – Christian

SMS. 17.00. (Tom) Yes…er…well – Christian

SMS. 17.00. Where the hell r u? – Rachel

SMS. 17.01. (Rachel) In my very own bed. Lovely – Christian

SMS. 17.04. Wish I was there I’d make us a cuppa, jump in next 2 you with a good book 2! Alas, I have to work 2nite! Don’t knock the Greek boys – Rachel

SMS. 17.11. Come over, I have lots of pillows & a king sized bed. The only time I knock Greek boys is when I’m up against them! – Christian

SMS. 17.13. Now there’s a very nice offer! I will think of that in a couple of hours, as 4 Greek boys… – Rachel

SMS. 17.17. (Rachel) Greek boys…YUM! – Christian

SMS. 17.56. Absence makes the mind forget doesn’t it? Ha, ha! – Tom

SMS. 18.21. No – Christian

I came back downstairs just in time to see the last half of Big Brother. Tim and Sebastian were watching TV.

I spoke to Luke, who was tending to emails while Mark entertained Aunty Anne and husband. He told me how he pulled Mark’s stitches out, the other night, when he was really stoned and it nearly made him throw up. I love Luke, he’s so gorgeous and so funny. Nobody has such a beautiful laugh as Luke. He filled me in about what Julien is up to.

Subject: Cold Thursday

(Jules)

A pencil case, stripy tights and liquorice all-sort earrings, miss? Of course, sleeping with your tutor is likely to have more of an effect on your marks, luv. The problem here, and I’ll let you into a little secret, is that it may not be a positive effect. It’s funny like that. Strange ways indeed.

How are you? I hear – as you can see – you are doing very well. Good on ya. Up the Top-End, is that what they call it?

Hot. I hear it’s hot. But I guess it is Darvin…er…Darwen. Um? Daaaarwinnn! (broad Aussie accent) Durwood?

Sorry about the rental referee… it did make me laugh, though. I have to admit.

Everything is fine down here, you’re not missing anything.

We have the lovely Sebastian staying. He pretties up the place, at the very least. Tactile Italians, you got to luv them. I could gaze at him… but enough about that.

Josh Gale is also in town. Not sure, now that I think about it, that you know him very well. I think you have met him once, or twice. He’s the one who lives in Berlin.

And me? What of me, you ask?

I’m on holidays.

I’ve been to the dentist, who is now sending me to a specialist, next Thursday, to save my gums. She told me last time I saw her that she may be able to fix them for me, if I was diligent. But, then this time, I admitted that I’d been back on dope and drugs and that my teeth cleaning wasn’t, perhaps, so great. She responded with sending me to the specialist. Boo-hoo.

Tom is in hospital for some months, going okay. He’s had the transplant and now is waiting for it all to work out.

Manny has buggered his back – not that I’m seeing him. So with trips to hossy, trips to sports injury clinics and entertaining Josh in between, it’s not leaving much time for me. Me! ME! ME SWEETIE! And we hate that, as I know you will understand.

Not to mention that I must deal with my sundry cars – a holiday promise to myself – get them to the sales people, so I can slip the money onto my mortgage. But how exciting does this sound, catch a train to Altona…nay…Westona, drive to Bolago, attach a trailer to the Rover, pop the Cooper S on the back, drive it to Mitcham, drive the Rover to my mum’s and put it in the garage and then, for all my trouble, catch a tram home. Oh yes, I feel a shiver of anticipation just thinking about it.

The Peugeot seems to be illuminating another warning light every time I drive it. So, I guess, I should take head…er…heed and take the wretched thing to the service man.

None of this sounds like big fun for Christian on holidays – friend from Germany withstanding…just.

I did get a root though, but don’t tell anyone, as Manny now has a partner with who he is having a monogamous relationship with… against my vows to be sure, (I have no desire to be confronted by an irate boyfriend) but what is a boy to do when he has a cute Greek bloke panting after him? I ask you? I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but I figure you are far enough away. (Foolish, foolish me! Not meant to be a comment on you, you understand luv. But we all know that the world is a very small place now a days.)

So there you go.

Big kisses and hugs

Christian

Beau bought around a bud from his supply of dope because the score had gone down before I put in my order. It was nice of him. Goodness is the meaning of life, after all, what makes the world spin. Random acts of kindness. Actually, on-going acts of kindness.

SMS. 21.19. Hi it’s Sebastian… (usually I’d write the entire SMS, but in this instance, it isn’t my to reprint) – Sebastian

(I do like sms’s, rather than speaking, as a time thing.)

She didn’t sms me back, said Sebastian looking disappointed. I’m gazing at this beautiful angelic Italian boy. Crazy girl.

Sebastian and I sat and talked. We talked about lots of stuff, me rolling joints and he quaffing white wine. We talked about Melbourne and people and life. Was it religion vs religion or economic wealth vs economic wealth that was the root cause of the troubles in the world today.

We were watching all three commercial channels covering – with perverse glee – a fresh spate of bombings in London. It all seemed to be inferred, reported to have, could have happened. It seemed like copy cat crazies strapping penny bungers to their backs, achieving their fifteen minutes of fame.

CNN was spoofing all over our television sets. It’s revolting.

It’s hate. It’s the inequities of the people of the world, dressed up as religion, manifesting as hate. America has been stirring up trouble in the Middle East for decades, spreading the basis for hate to grow, like rampant mould over a cadaver. Hate begets hate. People don’t matter any more in the western world, the dollar is paramount.

The hate has been radiating out for years, like asteroids, or rocks dropped into the middle of large ponds. The conservative politics of hate. Hate’s taking hold of the earth. Governments are using it as a tool for power. It’s just humans hating humans with, or without, a good reason. They eventually forget the reasons, only remembering the hate. It’s what humans have done all through time. Nothing’s changed.

If you throw bombs about in the world, you can’t expect others not to follow suit. If you actively promote violence for your own gain, you can’t fain innocents when the world turns violent. It’s the western world against everyone who doesn’t agree with its values. It’s the poor hitting back against the rich. It’s human beings demonstrating, yet again, that they still are only barely above rabble, given any excuse.

As I like to say, a million years – a blip in earth’s history – and there will be no trace of mankind ever having existed. It’s comforting. It gives closure to the madness that was man.

Not only pretty, but smart too. Some people are blessed. Some people aren’t. Like the world really. The blessed and the not so blessed.

The machinations of such are now so far out of control…that they are only the things that sell newspapers, making the few people, who own the media of the world, very rich.

Tim and Beau had been in Tim’s room all this time. Suddenly, I could hear voices. I muted the TV to see if I was hearing correctly. I’d never heard Tim and Beau argue, it would be the first time if they were.

What was the answer to the world’s problems? The only thing that will save it now – and I remain sceptical – is the mass power of the people. Like the power of the ocean. Like the power of the asteroids which fly past our ears every day. Only the uncompromising and the complete power of every individual to speak and be heard, the absolute and unadulterated voice of true democracy, can save mankind now. The politicians have it completely wrong; fools are eventually parted from their wealth. If one billion people stamped their foot and said no, it doesn’t have to be like this…then and only then would we have a chance in hell of moving on and surviving our current problems.

Because, it’s the twist of ideologies which now have tangled the worlds knickers so badly, that nobody knows now who the hell is hating who and for what REAL reason.

Tim came out several times for wine, bottles of, with grim expressions. Eventually he came out smiling. “I had to give him one, everything is all right now,” he said, with a lift of the leg on his departure.

It was a good reason for a joint. But, really, anything was a good reason for a joint.

The world is screwed.

Beau went home smiling, apparently. Sometimes, with healthy, young bottoms, that is all that is required to get them out of a dark mood. Because – I hope Beau never reads this – it’s what put them in the bad mood, or lack thereof, in the first place. Twenty-nine year old healthy, functioning bottoms will descend into dark moods if they haven’t been fucked enough. If they are left horny and un-sated, they get cranky, even if they don’t understand why at the time. Beau’s a sexy, sexy boy, it would be fucken hot to watch him go off with a huge cock up his arse.

We watched Kath and Kim.

I was smoking joints, Tim and Sebastian were scoffing wine.

Tim said that he and Beau had had a stupid argument, about nothing really. About the washing.

(Beautiful, Italian) Tony was mentioned, as a tiny part of a problem, with Tim often being caught at work over laughing with Tony. Naturally, I asked about Tony. I hadn’t said a word about Tony, deliberately. I was only going to mention him, if Tim did. And this was the first time Tim had mentioned him since he had moved in.

I told Tim about Manny propositioning Tony at the Laird. I told him how horrified I was and I was – turned on to, to be sure, but that wasn’t the primary feeling. I also told Tim about my thought at the time, I may want to sleep with Tony, but I wouldn’t want to be sharing him with anyone at the time.

Tim responded with comments about Tony’s beautiful arse.

“He likes to sit on top of you, while you’re lying down, facing away, his strong leg muscles holding him up, as he goes up and down on your cock up his arse, asking if his arse is still the tightest thing to fuck?”

Tim completed the story with demonstrations.

“You are just teasing now,” I said.

I can see his beautiful arse revealed, as I slid his board-shorts down. I can feel his olive skin on the tip of my tongue. I can taste him on my lips.

Sebastian laughed at us being dirty. He laughed again when I told him Tony made my tongue hang out. Sebastian is very sexual, you can almost see the testosterone rise when he talks about sex. It is sexy to watch. (And because he’s very sexual day to day, he could accept many more experiences…if you know what I mean.)

I so want to fuck Tony. I told Tim to say hello to him for me. Tim laughed and said yes. Tim confirm Tony is single and he went on to tell me where Tony hangs out for sex, but I told him not to, reiterating that I couldn’t be trusted…especially, when on drugs.

At one stage, Sebastian was standing next to the couch talking on the phone. Tim turned to me and said, “Should we send him to the study?” We both looked at Sebastian and then back to one another. “Nah, too pretty,” we both said. We laughed.

I heard Sebastian say something like, molto Italiano sexy, a minute later.

He got that, I said to Tim. He understood what we were just talking about. We both looked at Sebastian, who blushed and smiled coyly. Beautifully. So handsome. Giving away completely that we knew that he knew what we’d just said.

Tim turned off some of the lights, nice and dim, just as I liked it. The fire blazed.

I told Tim about Friday night. I told him how I scoffed all the ecstasy. I told him that Josh just complained for the whole night, in my ear like a Gnat. Bzzzzzzzzzzz! Tim especially laughed, when I told him how Josh had continued to berate me about the drugs, wah, wah, wah, until I got up, stalked off to the study, downed another e and then returned to the seat next to Josh, while he continued on unabated. I got more out of it to cope.

Tim thought that was fantastic.

Tim said that Beau said that he didn’t want Josh at his house-warming. Well, people’s dislikes are transparent, even if they don’t know it at the time, even if the intended recipient didn’t know it at the time. It’s all about energy and Josh was pumping out more negative energy towards them, last Friday night, than when Chernobyl melted down. He could hardly be surprised. But what do I say to him?

Tim asked me if I minded people coming into my room without knocking. I thought he was talking about Josh and I said that I was used to it. But he was talking about Beau. Apparently, sometime in the drugged-out time, last Friday, Beau came to my bedroom door, knocked and then opened it and looked in.

“Did you realise?” asked Tim.

“No, I didn’t” I said.

I was turned on by the idea, Beau coming into my room when I was high on drugs… in his jocks, with half a hard-on. Maybe rubbing it, as he came in, with that gorgeous smile of his. I suddenly had hazy drug-fuelled fantasies about Beau.

Then the reality flashed through my mind. Sweet Beau inquiring about dope – dope heads can’t refuse fellow dope-heads dope. I wouldn’t have minded

But, to be confronted by the twisted cadaver, that was me, sweating as I desperately tugged my pud... I shook my head.

“I thought you were talking about Josh,” I said to Tim. “But, yes, anybody else I’d be pissed off.”

I got three e’s for tomorrow night. Ha, ha!

Tim went to bed with the parting words, “Lose Josh before the house-warming.”

Sebastian made several phone calls during the night. At the end of the last one, as I rolled a joint, he hung up with the words, “I’m excited.”

Kath and Kim droned on.

I broke a cigarette and dropped in into the mull bowl. My eyes floated over Sebastian’s crotch, his cock seemed more prominent than usual. I broke some dope for a bedtime joint and dropped it into the mulli. As I ground it up, my eyes rested on his bulge again. I was sure he was partly hard. It looked so nice, the outline... it was bent around, it looked like a snake coiled, just about to slither. It sat nicely on top of his balls. So handsome all night and now just a little hard before bed. It was getting harder slowly as I watched, as Sebastian gazed at the TV screen. He must have liked whoever it was he’d just been speaking to, who was still giving him a beautiful cock. I could picture dark body hair, fuzzy around the base. His pink head just poking through his chamois foreskin.

My head floated as my hand spun the mulli. I just gazed at this beautiful boy, semi-erect. I sensed that he turned to look over in my direction, I didn’t care, I wanted him to see me admiring his gorgeous penis. The mulli ground on. He didn’t react, initially. Then he slowly crossed his legs and my eyes floated back to the joint-job at hand.

The lights were dim. The fire shone in our faces, like a vast red sea of red hot coals, burning gently before us. Toil and trouble, witch and bubble. It’s a full-moon, nothing is how it seems.

I was smashed, to be sure, to be sure.