In the morning my voice was worse. When Susan asked how our show went as I was fixing breakfast, all I could do was croak.
“I’ll take it that it went too well,” she observed. “Let me look at that throat.”
It was her first official mothering. She got me to croak “Ah” and said it was red but there were no ulcers or bleeding
”Ulcers?” I managed to say.
“Yes, Tim. Singers sometimes damage their voices so badly they need to be hospitalized. You’re fine, but you shouldn’t try to sing for a while.”
But I had a show that night. I ran up and told Jace.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll sing. Robby, Hippie and Iggy can do their parts. You can still play guitar.”
I felt a big letdown but agreed there was no choice. Jace said there was one song I could still do – ‘Jeremiah was a Bullfrog.’
“Very funny,” I croaked.
Hippie called after we had eaten, in a big panic.
“Where’s my Mom’s car? I can’t find it.”
“Do you remember anything from last night?”
“Those girls pulled down my pants.”
“Anything after that?”
“We smoked a joint? But I really don’t remember much.”
“How about chugging three glasses of beer?”
“Jeez, I can’t tell Mom that? Her girlfriend will beat me.”
“You mom has a girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I guess I never told anyone.”
“And her girlfriend’s a big bull dyke who beats the crap out of you?”
“No, but she could.”
I called Jace over to the phone. “Tell Hippie we’ll bring Max over to protect him from his mom’s bull dyke girlfriend.”
Jace sputtered and couldn’t talk. I got back on the phone.
“Come over here. Michael’s dad took your keys. We’ll ride bikes to his house to get your car.
“Oh-kay.” He spoke at half speed which for anyone else was quarter speed.
Michael was up and having breakfast with Jimmy Olsen when we got there. He told us to come back so we could figure out what to do about my voice. I half expected Mr. Antonio to lecture Hippie, but all he said was, “You understand why you couldn’t drive?”
“Yes, sir,” as meek as a mouse.
As we rode to Sorrento’s, I asked him, “You really had quite a day for yourself yesterday?”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“Sure, you’re sorry, that you got up and sang the Doors songs; you’re sorry all the groupies grabbed you and raped you; you’re sorry all your friends got you drunk; you’re sorry Michael’s dad wouldn’t let you drive drunk and kill everyone; and you’re sorry you’ve got fifty bucks in your pocket from the party.”
He looked in his jeans and found the fifty bucks. It was the first real smile I’d ever seen on his face. Naturally I started to tear up, until Jace punched me, and we all laughed, ending up on the curb until we couldn’t laugh anymore.
“Do you think those girls like me?”
“They liked you when you were being Jim Morrison. I’m not so sure after you blew your spunk all over them. I think they had other plans for it. You do remember the Jim Morrison part?”
“Yeah, I won’t ever forget being a rock star.”
“How about the part where you have two mommies?” Jace asked.
“You told him?” he accused me.
“It’s slightly important to us, being two gay guys.”
“Yeah, I see. Now you want to meet ‘em?”
“Why not? We’re gay parents, too, you know? To Wilkie’s girlfriend, Jill.”
“Hey, we forgot to tell her about our shows,” Jace remembered.
“Hippie, you take the car home by yourself. Wash it and tell your moms you wanted to make it look clean.”
“Will you come by and meet my moms?”
“Sure, but first we have some parenting we have to do, ourselves.”
We rode with him to Sorrento’s and made sure the station wagon was okay, and then left for the Grove. Jill answered the door and let us in.
“I’m so sorry we didn’t come by for Christmas, Jill,” I apologized.
“It’s okay. I saw you a couple of times at Out & Proud, last week.
“Yeah, we got paid to play and bring in people. It was a real scene.”
“You guys are real scenesters.”
“What do you hear from David?”
“He calls every day. I think he worries I’ll start going out with someone else.”
“Not with your gay parents on patrol.”
“But we want you to come to our show tonight in the Gables.”
“Okay, that sounds fun.”
“But no hitting on single guys.”
“Hey,” Jace had an idea. “Remember when David and you sang at the frat house.”
“Well, we barely sang.”
“Well, numb nuts over here blew out his voice and can’t sing. You want to fill in, or at least do a song. We’re all having to pick up after him.”
“Thanks for making me feel worse,” I complained.
“Well, there is this one Rod Stewart song I always sing.”
“That would be great. Which one, I hope it’s Maggie May.”
“Not while I’m hanging out with you guys. People will get the wrong idea. It’s ‘you’re my lover and my best friend.’”
“I know that,” Jace smiled and broke out,
“You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul
You’ll be my breath should I grow old.
You are my lover, you’re my best friend.”
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
That’s the one.”
“Perfect, just come up and sit with the Jacettes during the show. We’ll all sing it together and Tim can croak just like Rod Stewart.”
She really cracked up.
“Thanks guys, for coming by. I’ll tell David you’re on patrol.”
“We love you guys. We’re your gay parents. Straight guys better beware.”
We finally got to Michael’s. Hippie was being interviewed, which was going to be interesting. Robby and Michael were arguing about how Michael played when Robby was singing his song. I told Robby it was his song, but we wrote it. If he wasn’t playing drums on it, then Michael had control of the drumming.
“You want to drum on it as well as sing.”
“Maybe in the future. How’d you like my performance.”
“You mean the part when everyone ran screaming out of the room?”
“Wasn’t that great?”
“Well, no. You fucking scared our new fans.”
“Fuck them if they can’t take a little curse.”
“Metal-heads are a sensitive lot when it comes to the occult.” Jace noted.
“Your singing was really good, but we still need to work on the tempo.”
“I told Michael it didn’t work.”
“More work on your singing and Jace’s leads.”
“Well, let’s do it.”
“Okay, when you sing ‘we are False Gods,’ you have to hold it out longer, give Jace a chance to get all the leads in.”
“Well, he should hurry up.”
“No, the point is to make people hear the words, let it be imprinted on their brains.”
“That’s why they were yelling it at the end of the song.”
“No, they are yelling it because it’s the name of our band.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
We played it several times. His mood remained pissy, but he slowly came around, especially after Jace turned up his amp and drowned him out.
Finally he pulled out a joint.
“We need to chill out.” And he held the word out for as long as he had breath.
“There you go.”
“See, I can do it. Right, Hippie?”
Hippie looked up for the first time and gave us his new smile.
Robby looked taken aback, “Not your usual scowl. Not a shit-eating grin. It must be a ‘spunk the groupies’ grin.”
Everyone laughed, including Hippie.
Robby looked at me. “You’ve been working on our Hippie, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, and when Hippie finally smiled I had to punch Tim so he wouldn’t cry,” Jace exposed me.
“So what, you want the old sullen Hippie back?” I asked.
“No. No,” everyone cried.
“I’m sending all my groupies for smiley face Hippie spunk from now on,” Jace decided.
“You may not get them back,” Robby warned.
“Good,” I said.
“I’ll just steal away your gay posse, then.”
“Hey,” Michael piped up, “Remember after next Tuesday night, there won’t be any parties to play and no groupies to abuse.”
“And Romeo and Juliette will sail off to the Bahamas with Jenna’s father swearing revenge.” Robby mocked.
“You guys better not mess it up,” Michael threatened.
“Worried about the best laid plans?” Robby taunted. “But I don’t think getting laid is part of the plan.”
“You’re right, pervert, and don’t you mess with it.”
“Okay, okay,” I croaked. “We have some adjustments to make for tonight since I can’t sing.”
“We’ve got a female vocalist, who’s going to guest star,” Jace announced. “Remember Jill from the frat party?”
“She’s just going to do ‘You’re in my heart’ by Rod Stewart.”
“If Jace is going to do most of the singing we better find out if he can sing,” Robby demanded.
I knew the answer to that one, and Jace proved it to everyone else. No one with his ear was going to sing off-key. We decided it would be another Motown show, so we could do some of the dance tunes we would also do for Jenna’s party. Iggy was mad we weren’t going to do metal, but he didn’t complain. He knew he could always whip up metal head frenzy and charge the stage to take over the mic. Just a part of our traveling rock n roll show.
Finally, after practice was over, Hippie came up to Jace and me to say his moms wanted to meet us. It was a busy day, with the show still coming up.
“Can we do it when we’re not so busy?” I asked.
“Well, she may take away the station wagon.”
“Oh, are they mad at us?”
“No. They just think gay guys are irresponsible.”
“I thought they’d like us.”
“They don’t like any guys.”
“They like you?”
“Maybe. They used to say I was a lot like my dad.”
“My step-mother says that about me and my real mom.”
“Lately they’ve tried to encourage me, so that’s better isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Hippie,” I agreed, “We’ll tell ‘em the band is good for you.”
“Can we go now?”
Off we rode on our bikes to dyker hell.
Hippie’s house was one of the small older Mission-style stuccoes that were on the back side of 8th Street, Calle Ocho, but still in the Gables. Hippie introduced us to his moms, Marge his birth mom and Meg, her large and ferocious girlfriend, i.e. bull dyke.
Marge started the interrogation. “Gregory says you are both gay and going together.”
No messing around with this mom.
“Yes, ma’am. Jace has been living with me since Halloween. He knew I was gay, but he hadn’t been with anyone before and wasn’t sure.”
“Tim rescued me from my step-brother who had always bullied me. It didn’t take long to learn I could trust him. I fell in love with him before anything ever happened.”
“You ain’t trying anything on my Gregory, are ya?”
We almost laughed. “No. ma’am. He’s our friend, He came into our band when we needed a bass player. Jace and I really love each other. We’re not interested in any other boys.”
“Is there any other reason you want him in the band?”
“Other than he’s a good person? Well, the fact he drives is important, too.”
“So. It’s my car you need?”
“Well, at first, but now Michael’s dad drives us, too. We really want Hippie, I mean Greg, in the band. Did he tell you he sang lead vocals on a song last night?”
“I can’t imagine that. As long as he’s not being abused, he can stay in the band and keep driving my car. It was my father’s idea, typical man, that they have to be the driver.”
“I’m glad he can stay. We’re all friends in this band and it’s all for one, one for all.”
“More male chauvinism.”
I was killing our efforts by being flippant. This woman didn’t mince her words.
“We really wanted to meet you, once Greg told us you were together.”
“It doesn’t mean that we approve of your lifestyle, just because we’re gay.”
“It’s not approval but understanding we need. Not many 15/16 year olds being gay nowadays.”
“Oh, Marge. Stop being an old grump,” Meg interrupted. “These boys are the first friends he’s ever brought home before. They’re going to think we don’t love Gregory.”
“Why would they ever think that.”
“By chasing away his friends. You practically accused them of molesting Gregory.”
“You know how men are. They’re probably being civil just to deceive us.”
“These boys are nothing like men. Can’t you see they’re not evil?”
“They got him liquored up last night and who knows why.”
She had us there.
Hippie took a breath and stood up for us. “They were celebrating for me because I did something really good, Ma. They wouldn’t let me drive because they’re responsible. I just never had beer before. And look, Ma, I got paid fifty bucks, just like everyone else for our performance.” He showed her the money.
“You got paid to go to a party?”
I jumped in, “Yes, ma’am. We all got paid. There were several hundred people there and we really entertained them. It was older people, not kids. Our band is doing really well.”
“You can take my money, Ma. Just don’t make me quit.”
“See, Marge. He’s really growing up, making money and working with his friends.”
“Okay. Okay. You shouldn’t all gang up on me. But you boys are coming over here for dinner, once a week, from now on, so I can keep an eye on you.”
Hippie looked totally relieved. I couldn’t imagine living under such strict supervision. One mom – good. Two moms – too good.
He stuck with us after the interrogation, apologizing without really knowing what he was apologizing for.
“So much for having gay parents to talk with,” I complained.
“We’re talking with ‘em anyway, once a week for dinner.”
“Hippie, do you want us to start calling you Gregory?”
“No thanks. I kinda like just Hippie. Hippie Greg sounded too much like Billy Bob or some other weird country name.”
“We aren’t putting you down for being a hippie. It’s just natural for me now.”
“No sweat, Tim,” and he gave me his new smile. Luckily Jace was right on top of that with a solid punch to my arm before I teared up.
“Tough love,” he explained to Hippie.
When we got home, Hippie asked if he should leave for a while, if we needed to have sex. After 24 hours it was on my mind. “We’re not that sex crazed, Hippie,’ I told him.
“Maybe we can help you with any sex questions that you have,” Jace suggested. I remembered Scott’s and my sex ed debacle with Stu.
He had a long list. Ma wasn’t too up on male sexuality.
“How come I spunked like you call it when the girls pulled my pants down.”
“Well, it builds up if you don’t let it out,” Jace lectured. “Do you masturbate?”
“What’s that?” he asked. I guess most guys don’t just discuss these things with everyone.
“You use your hand to make the spunk come out.”
“You can do that?”
“Have you ever had a wet-dream?”
“I dream but I can’t remember if it was ever about swimming.”
“Not wet in your dream, but wet when you wake up.”
“Oh. I stopped that when I was a little kid.”
“Hang on, Jace,” I suggested. “Let’s forget about the mechanics and get to some basics.”
Turning to Hippie, “Do you know how babies are made?”
“Yeah, we all had sex ed. The male puts the sperm in the woman’s vagina and a baby grows for nine months and then comes out.”
“Good. Do you know that what we call spunk is actually sperm plus other liquid to make it flow.”
“Oh, so I was making a baby with the girls yesterday?”
“Well, that’s why they were upset. You have to get the sperm into the vagina to make a baby.”
“I don’t think I want to make a baby.”
“Don’t worry. Those groupies don’t want one either. We’ll explain that part later. Did it feel good when you spunked?”
“Yeah, it was feeling great but afterward I felt sad. Was that because I didn’t make a baby?”
“Sorta. But let me ask you the questions. How old are you?”
By your age, your dick and balls are developed enough for sex. Have you ever woken up with spunk in your pajamas?
“I only wear my briefs.”
“Okay. Have you ever messed your briefs?”
“Sometimes, but I thought it was just pus.”
“That’s a wet dream,” Jace jumped in, anxious to be Hippie’s teacher.
“So everything is normal and works fine. You just need to learn to control when it happens.”
“That’s masturbation,” Jace added.
“You mean when I have that kinda dream, it’s masserbating?”
We couldn’t help but laugh and Hippie looked crestfallen.
“No, dummie,” Jace yelled. “Masturbation is doing it with your hand.”
We heard giggles outside the window. We had an audience of Robby and Mary.
“Come inside, you guys,” I ordered.
Robby was grinning and Mary looked uneasy about the sex ed. lesson.
“I know everything. Here, I’ll show you how to masturbate,” Robby started to undo his jeans.
“Stop it,” I swatted Robby’s hand away. “We just got accused of molesting Hippie by his mom.”
“Oh, the truth comes out,” Robby gloated.
“He doesn’t have a dad to tell him these things. We don’t need for you to perv on him.”
“Be cool, Robby,” Mary said.
“I never get to have any fun.”
“Is sex fun?” Hippie asked.
“Yes,” we all answered. “That’s what you need to know. But don’t let anyone do it with you unless you want them to.”
“I wanted the girls to do it with me yesterday but I don’t really want to do it with Robby.”
“Good. He’s just kidding you, so you need to know that people do that too.”
“We’ll have these sex discussions when your ma’s there, so she can protect you and we don’t get accused of molesting you.”
“You’re going there for dinner?” Robby asked.
“Every week, so Hippie can use the car for the band.”
“And if there are things you don’t want to ask in front of your mom, you can still ask us or Mary, just not Robby.”
All of us answered, “He’s a perv.”
By the time we all were at Michael’s, it was too late to set up, and then take a break at Sorrento’s. It was obvious that I wasn’t the only one worse for wear. Robby was pissed that we’d stopped him from molesting Hippie. The Jacettes were just tired. The band members were hung over from the partying after playing two sets the previous night, plus practicing to make the adjustment to my not singing. We set up at the party house and realized we knew nobody there. The host, Grant, was dubious we could even play after finding out we were all 14 to 17 years old. He told us we weren’t allowed to be served at the bar. Then, Jill showed up. Jace and I explained she was going to sing with us. The Jacettes welcomed her into their clutches, while all the guys were in awe of a twenty-year-old hanging out with us. Several college guys tried to hit on her but we kicked them out, “Band only.” She came over and gave Jace and me a kiss, admitting she was a bit nervous.
“It’ll be fun,” we assured her. “Remember when you and Wilkie sang ‘God Save the Queen?”
That made her a little sad, missing David.
“You have a great voice, pure and true,” Jace knew what to say.
No sense waiting around to play. We got up, set to play, tuning and adjusting mics. The Jacettes did a little a Capella, “love, love, love.” People started filling up the room.
Hey,” I croaked into the mic. “welcome to our nightmare. We’re a little party’d out from the holidays, so I won’t be singing much tonight.”
Jace played the first few bars of ‘Joy to the World,” as I glared at him.
“We have a treat for you instead, as our friend, Jill,” I pointed at her with the Jacettes, “ is going to do a little Rod Stewart tribute later on.”
She smiled and waved, to several whistles and applause.
“Since they cut us off at the bar, can somebody get me a beer?”
Jace cut in with the opening guitar to the Velvet Underground’s “I’m Beginning to See the Light,’ which I could handle.
Then we did ‘White Light, White Heat,’ which was a strain.
Jace went to the mic, while I grabbed my guitar, and he lit into ‘Walk on the Wild Side,’
except he changed ‘Little Joe’ to:
‘Little Tim never once gave it away
Everybody had to pay and pay
A hustle here and a hustle there
New York City is the place where they said:
Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
I said hey Tim, take a walk on the wild side’
He went back to the beginning, substituting ‘Holly’ with Edi and ‘Candy’ with Mary, and pointing at Robby for ‘Sugar Plum Fairy.’ I was able to join in for the chorus of ‘doo doodoo doo doo deda doo.’
Songwriters: REED, LOU
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, SPIRIT MUSIC GROUP
Then he went solo on ‘Waitin’ for My Man,’ which he sang as a love song to me.
‘Everybody’s pinned you and nobody cares
He’s got the works, gives you sweet taste’
at which he kissed me on the lips. The girls in the crowd stared screaming and the guys looked like they were going to attack. Max came bounding on stage and growled at them. Jace finished and went right into the Stones, ‘Let’s Spend the Night Together,’
“I love you more than ever,” not even looking at the crowd. I turned around and we were playing guitar back to back, butt to wiggling butt. More screams and plastic cups came flying from the back of the crowd. Next Jace went right into ‘Sympathy for the Devil,’ changing all the words around,
“Please allow us to introduce ourselves, we’re men of sexual needs, been around a long long time, won’t listen to Jesus’ pleas.”
He let me play the Keith Richard parts, while he sang behind me, rubbing his groin into my butt. People up front stared to go “Yeah, fuck that boy,” and there was a fight in the back, and more cups came flying. Jace now switched to Bowie’s ‘All the Young dudes,’ while I shouted out the ‘where are you’s.’
More fighting in the back. The girls up front were getting into the music, whistling and going all googly-eyed at us. The guys were trying to hold onto them. Jace switched the genders to Bowie’s ‘Suffragette City,
Hey man, ah leave me alone you know
Hey man, well Henry, get off the phone, I gotta
Hey man, I gotta straighten my face
This mellow gay dude just put my spine out-of-place
Hey man, my school day’s insane
Hey man, my work’s down the drain
Hey man, well he’s a total blam-blam
He said he had to squeeze it but he then he
Ah don’t lean on me man, cause you can’t afford the ticket
I’m back from Suffragette City
Oh don’t lean on me man ’cause you ain’t got time to check it
You know my Suffragette City is outta sight, he’s all right…”
BOWIE, DAVID /
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, TINTORETTO MUSIC
and then going into ‘You Pretty Things.’
People were still fighting in the back, slowly working their way to the front. Jace jumped into ‘Radar Love,’ playing the long solo lead himself, and then doing the vocals while I played lead.
In front, everyone was dancing and jumping around to the music. Robby and Michael were going crazy on the double drums. By the time the fighters got to the front, it created a mosh pit of swirling bodies,thrown punches, people going down and getting trampled, while Jace changed the final lyrics:
‘When I get lonely, and I’m sure I’ve had enough
He sends his comfort, comin’ in from above
We don’t need no letter at all
We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love
We’ve got a line in the sky
We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love
We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love’
KOOYMANS, GEORGE / HAY, BARRY
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
We went back to Bowie and did “Panic in Detroit.” with no gender bending.
The swirling mosh pit got everyone moving in the same direction and people started picking up those who had fallen and trampled. This gay boy with a black eye came up and gave us two beers. We needed them and we paused while everyone settled down. Some guys were still trying to attack others, but the pit thrashers held them at bay.
“You guys can’t take our gaydar love?” I shouted, croaked. “Let’s take a step back into the 60s.” I pointed to Jill, who had been watching in shock. The Jacettes all came up with her, like bodyguards.
“Jill’s the sweetest person I know. She and her boyfriend were the first couple to accept me and my boyfriend when I came to Miami. She’s going to calm down the hate.”
Jace started the guitar intro and Jill came in with a high, lilting voice,
“You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul
You’ll be my breath should I grow old.
You are my lover, you’re my best friend.”
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Everyone was spellbound after the hate and anger and pride of our set.
She finished to cheers.
“Wanna do another?” I asked into the mic.
She nodded and started singing without instruments,
‘If I listen long enough to you
I’d find a way to believe that it’s all true
Knowin’ that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe
Someone like you makes it hard to live without somebody new
Someone like you makes it easy to give, never think about myself.’
AUSTIN, DALLAS / REYES, TONY / RICHIE, LIONEL /
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, ALLEN STANTON PRODUCTIONS
Jace came over and we both sang ‘Maggie May’ to her.
She laughed and kicked us when we sang ‘kicked me in the head.’
At the end, she kissed us both and ran off with the Jacettes.
The crowd was all pressing forward and cheering her. We said we were taking a break and the cheers went up. The gay boy came back with beers for everyone and we collapsed next to the stage. Max stood guard as we caught our breath.
“I’ll never get laid tonight,” Hippie complained.
I told him he could do his Doors songs and that he should run off with the groupies which would be the end of our set.
“What if they try to molest me?”
“Just remember what we told you, if you like it, it ain’t molestation; if you don’t, then you’re being molested. Try to deliver the spunk package this time”
He was smiling again. Hard to believe how Hippie became the sweet side of our band.
Grant, the house owner (or his parents) came over, pissed and ready to fire us. There had been more than a little damage in the back.
“Hey,” I cut him off before he could start. “We can’t be blamed for what your guests did. Those guys in the back are bigoted assholes.”
“This isn’t New York City, boy. You can’t just go around fagging off in front of my friends.”
“This is how it’s going to play. We’ll do our Jim Morrison songs and end the set. You pay us our $200 bucks right now and 25% of the bar.”
“And if I don’t.”
“We’ll do our metal set and see how much of your house is left once we set off your guests. A little fagging off is nothing compared to a full-on thrashing.”
He turned white and gave me the $200.
“Now let’s see how much is in the bar till”
We walked over and it was over $3000 already.
“I’ll take a thousand now and we’ll end this after a few songs with no further riot.”
He looked pissed, but he had no choice. We had his guests in our pocket, even the gay bashers.
I went back and found Dave and Jazz.
“Look. We’re playing a short set and then getting the hell out of here quickly, so be ready to move the equipment out as soon as possible.”
“These guys are assholes.”
I couldn’t disagree.
Jill stayed with the Jacettes. Everyone was set up, and I took the mic last, to scattered boos and cheers.
“Having fun, boys?” I asked, to more boos. “Well, we’re not here to ruin your evening. You gay bashers might look up front for your girlfriends who look like they’re crushing on our act. They might find your ‘macho in the morning and can’t get it up at night act’ boring.” More boys and a sprinkling of “Yeahs” in the front from the girls.
“Well, Grant wants us gone, so we’ll do our Doors act and hit the door.”
Jace did the ‘Light my Fire’ intro and Hippie came up to the mic with me.
He’d forgotten he didn’t know the words, but we played together and I croaked out Jim Morrison just fine. “The Whiskey Song’ went over well, especially the part of ‘show me the way to the next little girl.”
These guys were all pervs. I moved back so Hippie could solo ‘Hello, I Love You.’
The girls instantly recognized a straight boy and flocked in front of him. At the end, he put down his bass and jumped into their waiting arms. He disappeared into the crowd.
“That’s all, folks.”
We packed up and were out by the cars in five minutes.
Mr Antonio came up to me. “You really pushed it tonight. Lucky for you Max was here.”
Max barked his approval.
“Yeah, we’ll throw him more than a bone once we get home.”
“Speaking of bones. Did they try to stiff you on your fee?”
“He wanted to, but I explained what would happen if we really let the crowd go wild,” and I showed him the stack of cash I had.
“You want a job, kid. We could use an enforcer who uses his brains over his muscles.”
I flexed for him to show I did have some muscles but realized I hadn’t worked out in months. He just laughed.
We were ready to go, but Hippie was not to be seen. I sent Dave and Jazz to look for him, suggesting the nearest bathroom. Jazz came back and said Hippie was occupied, but Dave would drag him out as soon as he was ‘finished.’ Our boy was a quick learner and not so quick an ejaculator anymore. The two of them showed up in due time. I never saw Hippie without his angelic smile ever again. Sex Ed. is better as a do it yourself activity.
At Sorrento’s everybody got $50, including Jill. I gave the remaining $700 to Michael’s dad. He told me he’d just about made back his original investment. It wasn’t really about the money; getting his son’s respect had no price. He beamed at me and I hugged him, knowing I was embarrassing him.
“You push the gay, boy,” he laughed.
“It pushes me,” I countered. “I can’t thank you enough for supporting us. All we need do is impress Jenna’s dad on New Year’s Eve.”
“I’d lay off the gay stuff if you want to do that.”
“It’ll be all Michael’s show.” Then I told him we had two boys Jenna’s age, who’d get everyone dancing to the pop oldies we were playing.
“I’m still impressed by how much you plan ahead. You’re something, Tim.”
He put his hands up before I could hug him again. I went back to the other table, where everyone was kidding Hippie, asking for details, which were too graphic for enjoyment. I knew I needed to teach that boy the no kiss & tell rule – don’t.
Nobody complained when I handed out $50 apiece, like the $50 they gotten the night before. Not bad for the weekend though – $100 each. Jill didn’t want her share, but I told her I was her gay dad and she more than earned it. If she hadn’t calmed the animals with Rod Stewart, Grant’s house would be trashed and we’d not been paid at all.
She relented and I took her over to Mr. Antonio’s table where we tried to be better company than the horny 15 year olds.
“How do you know Tim?” he asked.
“Well, we’ve gone along on his wonderful/horrible year. My boyfriend’s on the University swim team where Tim showed up last summer and somehow they were swimming together in the same lane at first and David became his first friend.”
“Who’s your boyfriend?”
“David Wilkie. He’s in London, working out with the British National Team for Christmas.”
“I know who he is. He’s a star swimmer. Was Tim also that good? I know he was City Champ, but that’s not the same as a world-class swimmer.”
“I think Tim just adopted us. Then one day he showed up at our door in tears, so we adopted him.”
“He does cry a lot.”
“He holds everything in and then it bursts out of control.”
“I bought him a guitar. He acted like the world had ended.”
“He’s pretty tough and seems to pull others in, especially boys.”
“Hey, I can hear you, you know,” I piped up. “My love life is complicated.”
They both laughed and agreed I was dramatizing what seemed to be pure lust.
“Well, that’s the way everyone should live.” I asserted.
“That’s complicated,” Michael’s dad noted.
“Why? If you love somebody, don’t let them go.”
“Is it hard with David being in London?” He asked her. I guess they had solved my issues.
“Yeah. I worry they’ll make him stay and train for the Olympics next year. But he’s just twenty now, and he should finish his degree.”
“What about you? Will you go there if he stays.”
“I’m holding out until I finish my degree.”
“Yeah, but Jace and Tim have appointed themselves as my gay parents and are keeping me from meeting anyone new. Did you see the girls in the band protecting me on stage.”
“That was cute. And you sing beautifully.”
“I told her that.” I added, not sure if I needed to protect her from Mr. Antonio. “We can make her the lead singer in a metal band. Dress her like Pat Benetar.”
My enthusiasm made them laugh.
“What the boys are doing is just fun and having fun with their friends, of which I’m one. Did you see how they got David and me to sing ‘God Save the Queen’ at the frat house?”
“Yeah, they seem to come up with the greatest ideas.”
“That’s us, the geniuserators.”
I felt I should go back to the other table so the adults could pick me over. I’d get Jill to tell me what Mr. Antonio really thought about me. And the pot was going round there, as I heard Max barking approval. After indulging, I forgot about what anyone thought of me. I did make sure Jill was driven home by Hippie, not Michael’s dad.
“Still protecting me, huh?”
“Always, luv.” She gasped.
“That’s what David says, even the accent.”
“I channel everyone, that’s why I can only sing covers.”
She gave me a peck. I told her to come to the Viscaya show on New Year’s Eve. We needed her to sing. She smiled and said, “Of course.”
Driving home, I noticed that Jimmy Olsen was missing.
“He probably got sick of hanging out with high school dropouts.”
“What a sosch.”
Finally, Jace and I were alone, except for Max, who was well-behaved after getting high at Sorrento’s. Jace pulled off my clothes as I did the same to him. We stood there with full hard-ons. I closed the window and locked it. We licked our salty, sweat-stained bodies until we were both writhing on the bed.
“Take me,” Jace begged, as he maneuvered his legs around my waist. I rubbed his asshole until the pre-cum had him well lubricated. I pulled his legs onto my shoulders. He was so limber I could double him in two as I kissed him long and deep. His frustration with me peaked until I inserted my cock into his spasming ass. It sucked me down to the balls, as he let out a satisfied moan. We both had fucked each other so much that we never felt the typical pain of penetration. Our asses were sculpted to fit each other’s cocks perfectly. If anyone else dared enter there, their presence would be known by the expanded cavity if they were bigger or by being unsatisfying if smaller. Deep inside him, I remained still, feeling his heart beat on my cock, until his continued frustration made him stick two fingers in my ass, massaging the sphincter until I couldn’t stay still. I pulled fully out, his finger still teasing my ass and plunged back all the way to my balls, which slapped on his sweating butt. Whap, whap whap. I went in and out, savoring his responses, as he hugged me with his arms, legs and ass. His toes tightened and extended upward and downward, trying to keep himself from cumming too soon. I kissed him as my dick thrust in and out. His tongue rolled around mine, sucking it as he reached his peak. I loved that he never held back but rushed toward his climax. I knew how to time my orgasm to his. I pounded his ass as ferociously and quickly as I could thrust and withdraw, staying deep inside. The base of my cock felt his ass muscles tighten and hold until he jerked and came, a long stream up my stomach and chest. I let go next, then his second load released, then the third and fourth, while I was rigid inside. As he passed his peak, I exploded again and again with quick thrusts until I was spent. He let loose a final dribble that pooled with all the cum on his belly. I couldn’t withdraw and he held me inside as I felt his dick twitch, and then he rolled me over and the cum spilled onto my stomach. I knew he was ready to fuck me and it made me instantly hard. Jace saw my quivering dick and sat on it, taking me deep inside. My balls must have received the wrong signals because I started cumming again as he rocked up and down on me. I thrust with each spurt until done. Then he rolled me and proceeded with the fucking I had expected. I arched my back so my butt was sticking up. He grabbed my now acceptably long enough hair, pulling it back, so I arched even further. His strokes hit my prostrate exactly where the most pleasure resulted, milking it so pre-cum joined the spilled jism on the bed. He went on longer this time. Soon I was screaming that I was going to cum again from all the prostrate action. He sped up his thrusts, pushing me quickly over the edge, then thrust as deep as possible and held me as I spurted twice and a third time until my squeezing sent his dick into climax. Deep inside I felt its throb each time he exploded. Then he pulled out and finished between my butt cheeks, sending the last blasts onto my back. When he finished, he collapsed on me, smearing the cum between us. He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me so intensely I had to arch again to get him to let me breathe.
“You were screaming,” he whispered.
“I had been cumming constantly for five minutes without stop. The well was dry.”
“The well’s a gusher,” he noted.
“You’re my rough-neck oilman.”
He found his shirt on the floor and wiped us dry. We snuggled into each other and it was morning when I heard pounding on my window. When I opened the window, Robby recoiled from the sight of me naked, hard and covered with dried cum.
“Cover yourself. You gotta see this.” As he held up the Miami Herald.
“Jace jumped up, causing Robby to again recoil.
“Have pity on a poor straight boy, please,” he begged.
“Take a picture for your memory bank,” Jace mocked him, walking over to see the newspaper.
Cub reporter Jimmy Olsen had sold our story to the mainstream press. The headline read, “BAND DOESN’T NEED THE BEATLES.” It had the picture of the three of us hugging the Jacettes. It talked about Jace saying we mocked celebrities who claimed to be False Gods, like John Lennon. It was pretty accurate about who we were, all friends in the Gables, who played cover songs and were doing parties near home and at the University. It detailed how fans went crazy as we ripped through their favorite bands’ hits, metal, glitter, pop and oldies. It acknowledged Jace as a prodigy who could play any song by ear and from memory, and how we followed his lead. It said one member was just called Hippie, the bass player, who was the only one with a driver’s license. It called me a Bowie impersonator who could do R&B like Mick Jagger, pose like Steven Tyler, mug like Ace Fraley, and scream like Robert Plant. I had both boys and girls falling at my feet with my gay antics. It mentioned Out & Proud and how we played in the street for Christmas week. The double drummers were praised as an innovation needed due to the guitar and vocals overpowering just one drummer. It called Robby our cult leader, singing our original eponymous song ‘False Gods,’ which made kids run in fear from his Ozzie Osbourne antics. We have an Iggy Pop impersonator who got the crowd angry because we won’t play the Stooges, until they charged the stage and took over the band. He reviewed our show last night, where the crowd went crazy about our gay antics resulting in a stand-off between angry metal heads and our Glitter defenders, until a U of M co-ed got up and sang Rod Stewart love songs to quiet the crowd. It even mentioned Hippie, the quiet one, who turned into a sex-crazed Jim Morrison, ending the show when a crowd of girls chased him into the bathroom and tore off his clothes.
He went on to predict that the ticket nobody could get and everybody wanted was our New Years Eve show at Viscaya where we planned to do a 50s sock hop for our drummer’s girlfriend and her friends, invitation only. It quoted Michael as promising we’d only play dance songs, with no evil intentions. “We are a band that plays for fun. We want to make sure everyone who hears us enjoys rock n roll.” Maybe they are the future, local kids who just play what they like and don’t care about the music business. Maybe rock n roll is just for those who haven’t grown up.
I was mad at him for describing me as gay when he said he’d ask me first, but he didn’t really say I was gay. Jace liked that he said we all followed him, which was true but he wasn’t our fearless leader. Robby said he wasn’t running a cult and that Mael was a real god. We told him to tell that to the masses. Mary thought it was typical that the girls were in the photo but not mentioned in the story. I called Hippie to warn him that his moms might see the story, but he was still in la la land about last night. So I talked to Meg, who I thought was more on our side, and probably would tell Marge to cool it. She laughed when I told her.
“Our little Gregory has grown up to be a sex fiend. Does he even know what to do?”
“We told him we all would tell him about the birds & bees when we come to dinner there, so you don’t think we are misleading him.”
“Well, what happened when they took his pants down?”
“Well, the first time he shot his load before anything. Have you ever talked to him about sex?”
“And make him into a chauvinist pig?”
“Good point. We’ll all talk to him together. We’re gay, so we know about chauvinist pigs.”
“Let’s make sure he doesn’t come home with some whiner and her baby.”
“Good point again. We’ll double team him.”
Mary made us all go to church with her. We met Flo and Edi there. It was fun to sing all the hymns and wave our arms around. I found my voice was pretty much better. The girls were happy and introduced us to their other friends. Someone told Flo her picture was in the Sunday paper, so we all went out and bought a bunch of copies.
“How come they only write about the guys,” Flo complained.
“You all are eye candy,” I told her. She liked that.
Her father came in and asked about the photo, which she showed him. He looked at me, and asked why I had my hands on his daughter.”
“Todas nostros estos in banda juntos.” I answered.
“He asked me “?porqu hable espanol?’
“Estudio in mi escuela.”
“Okay. Keep your hands off my daughter.”
As soon as he left, Flo gave me a kiss and winked at me.
“He thinks you’re very serious about us because you went with us to church today.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“That’s a good thing, but he’s watching you now.”
Next we went over to Out & Proud, which was pretty crowded for a Sunday. When Felix waved to us, all the girls turned around.They screamed and ran out the door to meet us. We pushed our way inside. Felix instantly put us to work behind the counter and sales were brisk, with the girls asking us to sign things for them. We asked wouldn’t their boyfriends be embarrassed to wear gay clothing especially signed by other guys.
“No. we’re going to wear them. We adore the gay look.” Felix was in sales heaven. He told us that we were due a bonus for getting his shop in the Herald.”
“How about 5% of sales, like when we played outside.”
He went to the registered, counted his sales and gave us each one hundred bucks.
“You’ve already sold $4000 today?”
“We’re on pace for that and if you keep making appearances, it’ll be every day until your fame runs out.”
I thought that fame is definitely fleeting, so why not cash in.
All the girls were flocking around Mary, asking all kinds of questions about us. Who was going with who, if I was gay why did I have a girlfriend, and what kind of underwear I wore. When Felix heard that question, he herded us into the back and made us put on the most garish briefs he could find. They stuck up way above our jeans, which he pulled down even further. After we went back to the counters, his whole selection was sold out in ten minutes. We were signing underwear, so I would ask, “What’s your boyfriend’s name?” I wrote personal messages to him and signed it. I even wrote a bogus phone number, but that backfired when one of the girls tried the number and caught us. We were excused by telling them we were only kidding their boyfriends, because they had to be too young for us. We told them to never go out with anyone not their age.
“How old is your boyfriend?” one asked.
Jace answered, “I’m 15.”
They all gasped and said, “But you have a girlfriend?”
“We both like boys and girls, but just our own age.”
Then they wanted pictures with us together, so we kissed and all the flashes went off.
Felix positioned us below the Out & Proud sign and we kissed again with our arms around all the girls. Of course they noticed that we both got hard.
“Oh, they really are gay,” they screamed and pointed.
The cops came by and told Felix that Christmas was over. They had to keep the street clear. Felix showed them the Herald article. They laughed and said to keep the noise down. Felix went to the neighbor who always complained, explaining that drawing a crowd was good for business for everyone. I counted over twenty young girls on the sidewalk trying to get in. There were a few gay guys but definitely in their twenties. I realized that Phillip wasn’t there.
“Oh, I dumped him,” Felix explained. ‘He was too jealous of my sugar daddy.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that. He said he was ancient at 35.”
“That boy needs to grow up.”
“You guys had fun at our Friday show?”
“Yeah, but not enough Bowie. And I heard you had a riot last night?
“Yeah, the haters were out, but the glitter boys defended us. That’s what saved us, plus Max growled at the metal heads.”
“Will you guys come by more. You look really hot in that underwear.”
“I look even hotter without it on.”
He gave me a quick kiss, making sure Jace wasn’t watching.
“Naughty boy Felix. You’re my boss.”
“I’ll let you boss me around.”
Now Jace knew something was up. Luckily it wasn’t my cock. We had to leave, Felix threw a bunch of shirts at us, yelling “I ordered Love jeans for next week.”
“We’ll be back.”
Luckily he’d sold out all the gay underwear.
Jace kept snapping my butt with the elastic waist band. Mary said she’d never seen both of us acting out and proud before. I showed her the hundred bucks we both made, “It’s just a job.”
Robby took note of the cash, saying, “I can act just as gay.”
“You’ll always be straight underneath. Felix thinks you’re too dark with all the occult shit.”
“Get him to open a ‘Dark & Mysterious’ shop.”
“He’s got a sugar daddy who pays for the store. We’ve made it profitable, so Felix’s got it made both ways, his daddy pays the bills and he keeps the profits.”
That made him think, but Mary slapped him, “Don’t even think about a sugar daddy. You’re my sugar daddy.”
“Jace did call him the ‘Sugar Plum Fairy.”
“I ain’t a fairy.”