Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Higher Society - Pt.4


HIGHER SOCIETY – Part 4
a fanfiction based on the George Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940) and the musical High Society (1956), both of which were based on the Broadway play, The Philadelphia Story (1939) by Philip Barry. I don’t own the story, but I own the characters in this adaptation.
Chapter Ten
Mmm yeah! (Woo, woo)
Women think I'm tasty, but they're always tryin' to waste me
Make me burn the candle right down
But, baby, baby, don't need no jewels in my crown
-“Tumbling Dice”, Rolling Stones
Present time
The pool itself was only Olympic size while the entertainment portion of the patio's layout was what one would anticipate at a seaside hotel. There was a full-outdoor kitchen on the west side and a full bar with a temperature-controlled snack station on the east. Toni hung her clothes in one of the five cabanas, also largess with its individual bathroom with forest themed walk-in shower. A decanter of scotch, bucket of ice, and two glasses were on a side table between two white reclining lawn chairs. When she came out, towel across her shoulders, Toni said, “Geeze, this is beautiful!”
Angus scanned her like a drunk john at a strip club. 
“Yes. It sure is.” He put a store-bought pretzel in his mouth and immediately regretted it.  
“Compliments will get you nowhere, Earl Glamorgan!  But thank you anyway,” she replied. 
The surrounding garden foliage caught her attention. Toni walked up to a flowering bush to sniff the pedals. “Attar of Roses, Sweet bay, Cotton lavender,” she said as she pointed to the well-curated collection of foliage. “Your grandmother’s work I suppose? She has excellent taste.” Toni ran her hands across the petals and leaves. “My mother owned a greenhouse and flower shop. I worked there every summer until I left for college.”

Agus got in the pool then looked back at Toni who eyed him cautiously. “My grandmother likes the feel of nature wrapped around her.  It adds to her Druid Queen routine.”  
Toni got into the pool while trying to remember her lifeguard training.  Booze and water only belong together in a glass, she thought to herself. It was bad enough she stood damn near naked a short distance from someone else’s fiancé. To be caught damn near-naked in the pool with a dead member of the British aristocracy would be a whole other level of madness. She just hoped that she could accomplish three things tonight – one, keep this man alive, two, keep him at a distance, and three, get him to his bed.  She started swimming but had stop soon to redirect his attention away from her ass. “You didn’t finish telling me the story.”
“Huh?” He swam a bit finally getting the hint then got out of the pool to refill his glass. At least this time, he added some ice. “Why are you torturing me? I thought we were becoming friends.”
Toni got out of the water and immediately put on a plush white guest robe. “We are.  How is getting your side of the story out torture?”
Angus chortled, “Who wants to revisit one’s childish folly?”
************************
Hey handsome man, what you do last night?
Did you have a good time? Was the music alright?
Did you wear that jacket with the deep blue jeans?
I bet the boys went crazy, bet you caused a scene

Cause everybody smiles,
When my handsome man walks by
- “Handsome Man”, by Matt Alber

Four years ago . . .
When Deetz failed to do more than breath underneath him, Angus rolled off and immediately started to worry.  He tried to wait before speaking but anxiety has no patience. “Did I do it wrong? Did I hurt you? I know I got . . .  eager . . . uh, it’s just that . . . bullocks’ man, you know what I mean!” He laid on his back, his eyes pasted to the ceiling.
Deetz faced away from Angus’s fretting and moved his hands from underneath his chin. 
“Mate, I know how to say no. You know, Krav Maga and all.”
“Give me a break! I’m Team Muay Thai all the way.”
“Seriously?! Don’t you find it confining? I mean it’s just the next evolution in boxing.”
“Ah, but I found Krav Maga lacking in spiritual inspiration. I supplement with Buddhist meditation and Tai Chi.”
“Yeah, hmm, except I think you forgot the part where it talks about renouncing the material world!” Deetz teased.
“Hey, I’m no monk, as you can tell by this point,” Angus tossed back.
Deetz started to turn around and sit up. “I’ve known a few monks in my day,” he replied, “and they in no way met that skill level.” He held out his left hand so Angus could Deetz was still the shivering. Deetz glanced back at Angus, his face firm and serious. “Tell me the truth. Did this resolve anything for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve had your trip to the wild side. Are you ready to leave now?”
Angus sat up and stared at Deetz fiercely. “No,” he said showing his shiver arm, “and what difference does it make to you if I did leave?”
Deetz had to decide if he was going to be that bitchy queen. “I’m sorry. Let me take a step back and rephrase. It is obvious we both had a good time, that I will admit. But I didn’t come to this with much in the way of expectations.”
“I suppose I’ve worked this moment up in my imagination too,” Angus blushed and pulled the covers up to his hips.  “But if you’re wondering if I meant what I said at the end there, I think I did.”
“I know.”
“So, what’s wrong?”
Deetz sighed. This is the part of the problem with even the most woke of old money. They have a blind spot when it comes to boundaries – unlike poor folk and other hated groups, the rich don’t know they have limitations. “Mate, have you thought about what comes next? This is an incredible shift in allegiance that won’t go over well with some of your folk.”
“Really! I blow your ass up like heaven on a stick and all you care about is what some drop of shit has to say about where I put my dick?”  
“When you say it like that . . .,” replied Deetz, realizing that this may not be the time. “You have a point.” Deetz turned to him and kissed his cheek. “My therapist has always bugged me about my failure to be grateful for what I have before I complain about wanting more.”  He wondered if he was ‘wanting more’.  “Let’s forget confusion for a while and just have a good time, eh?”
Even Angus was surprised at how quickly a peck on the cheek and an apology could erase irritation. “I don’t want to fight. I can go to the office and have that. And the funny thing is, I didn’t realize how much I needed a vacation until now. So maybe I should be a bit grateful to you too.”
They both sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the implications hanging in the air. Finally, Deetz asked in a rather clinical tone, “What’s up with that longing thing, eh? Has the curse been vanquished from your soul?”
“Nope,” Angus pulled the covers off his still erect penis, “I may need to do more vanquishing.”
“Oh, my!”
**************************
An exhausted Deetz untangled himself from a sleeping Angus around 11 the next morning. Instead of struggling with pants and shirt, he just put on a robe from the bathroom and put the kettle on. With the perfect timing one only gets from a sibling, his mobile rang. 
“Good morning, sis,” he grumbled as Ciara’s face came on his screen.
“I tried calling you three times for prayers!  What have you been doing? You look like shit.”
“Sorry. I just got up.”
Ciara thought for less than a half-second before exclaiming, “OMG, you didn’t do it, didn’t you?!!! How was it? Was it what you expected? What happened? Who made the first move?”
“Shh!” Deetz said while quickly closing the bedroom door. “He’s still sleeping.” Deetz sat on the couch and continued, “Ciara, he claims he’s in love with me.”
“Wow, you’re fast!”
“Shut up and listen! He said that the first time . . . the first time we, well, you know . . . the first time! Only women do that shit.”
“Oi! Can we describe without attaching sexist labels; although I do get your point.”
“Ah excuse me! Did you not do the same thing after the first time you were with Tom?”
“Correction! It was the second time . . .”
“The next day!”
“. . . AND I just told him that we were getting married and when. This girl doesn’t ask; she commands!” They both laughed. “But seriously, now what? Are you an item or something?”
Deetz shrugged. “I have no idea and frankly I don’t think he does either. Ciara, his feelings are sincere, but I can’t tell how much is the so-called curse.  I don’t want someone who's only tie to me is how I fulfil some old woman’s revenge magic.”
“I understand,” Ciara replied. “Does it change how long you two are going to be up there?”
“Are you bloody kidding me? Do I look like someone who shuns a good shag?!” Deetz laughed.  He heard Angus call for him. “Listen, babe, Angus wants me. Can I text you later? I can let you know then when we’ll be getting back.”
“Sure.  Laters,” she said before ending the call. 
Ciara looked up at Lady Nora then said, “I don’t like lying to him.”
“I know, darling,” Lady Nora said. “But you heard him. They both need to come to this freely. Any other kind of arrangement will lead to uncertainty or resentment from the constant wondering, ‘Did he choose me or did he just give in?’”
Ciara shook her head while putting the mobile in her skirt pocket. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Lady Nora rose from her wicker throne and replied, “This is no game. I’m trying to massage this spell in their favour. Understand, these two will do great things separate from one another – a renowned theologian and likely Chief Rabbi of the Great Britain and the other a prodigy of the master of international business and possible future prime minister.  But together, they will save the world.”
“That’s a big declaration even for you, your Grace,” Ciara said.  “What if it doesn’t work?  What if they don’t stay together, get married?”
“I don’t know,” replied Lady Nora. “It’s never happened.”
*************************
“Deetz? Who are you talking to?” Angus said rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“11:15,” answered Deetz. “I was returning Ciara’s call.  She was wondering when we’re coming back.”
Angus took a cup from the dishwasher and stared at its bottom to keep from looking at Deetz as Angus asked, “How long do you have?  I mean before you have to go back to school or work or something.”
Deetz smiled and took the cup from him. While he filled it, Deetz said, “I’m at the mercy of the school right now as I didn’t apply elsewhere. If I don’t get in this round I suppose I could cobble together teaching gigs in London or Cardiff for a while.” He dropped a strainer full of loose-leaf tea into Angus’s cup and poured the hot water. “I guess what I’m saying is that I’m open.”  
Angus sat at the table, still looking at his cup’s contents. “I have a few things, but I can do them here. I don’t need to be at the office.” He took a tentative sip then declared, “I’m up for a week or two in Sugar!”
“What about last night?” Deetz sat across from him. “What should we do with last night?”
“Right, so I reckon you’re not attracted to me.  Okay, I understand.” Angus started to stand up.  
Deetz grabbed his forearm and yanked Angus back in the chair. “Really?  Maybe the gals are right and you straight boys are all insecure.” Deetz’s felt Angus’s hurt and thus tried a different tactic. “I think you’re brilliant, for the hundredth time!” He sighed.  “And last night was fabulous, one for the books. I mean how many blokes get fucked by real, live royalty?!” Deetz let his hand slide down and grasped his fingers. “But this here is fantasy island. The real world is still 60% some kind of phobic, at least in public.  And the gay community’s got its own idiocy. I guess I’m saying I’m not sure you're ready for all that bullshit.  He took in a deep breath then exhaled in a definitive pace. “More importantly I find I have a delicate heart that bruises easily. And furthermore, I don’t want to miss Mr. or Ms. Right ‘cause I’m fucking around somewhere that’s heading nowhere.”
“It’s because I said the three words last night, I get it,” explained Angus. “Listen, all I say is when you’re around, I’m settled, content but when you’re away I feel out of sorts. I don’t know what that means.” He rubbed Deetz’s knuckles. “And I have to figure that out before I can worry about other people.” He turned over Deetz’s left hand and kissed the palm.  “I just need a little time.” He turned over the right and did the same thing.  “Now, I am starving so I think I’ll get to frying some water in the microwave!”
“Oh no!” replied Deetz as he jumped up and dashed back to the kitchen area. “You in a kitchen will set European culinary tradition back 200 years.”
Deetz cooked a fabulous breakfast taco with turkey sausage. After cleaning his plate, Angus belched gratefully. “Right, what’s up for today, tour guide?”
“Rude!” laughed Deetz as he collected the plates and loaded the dishwasher. “The festival opens today with an art fair.” He started wiping the sink, “It’s a chance for up-and-coming queer artists to get their work seen and maybe sold. You’d be surprised at the number of well-heeled queens that come here. Likely you’ll see a colleague or two.”
Angus mulled over the idea of seeing naked, fucking old MPs and fellow London venture capitalists. Likely, these weren’t those liberal politicians who attend Pride in a suit and a press secretary, waving but never touching the homosexuals for fear of contamination. “And after that?”
“There’s an opening dance party called ‘White Night’. 
You’re supposed to dress in sexy white attire and wear a gothic-styled mask. It helps the shy ease into things.” He finished putting away the remaining food. When Deetz was done, the kitchen looked like it just hit the lot – as he learned at the heels of his father – clean with the guise of making everything look brand new. Deetz shook his head to get the parental voice out, then returned to Angus. “I guess we’ll have to go to town and see what’s left.”
Angus grabbed his tablet from a nearby chair.  “No need.” He started finger typing but stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten consent. “Sorry, right, ah, if you pardon me. I have a small fetish.”
Deetz started to laugh, trying to guess what semi-silly inclination Angus had. “I usually don’t let a bloke tie me up until the 3rd date.”
I’ll have to file that away, thought Angus. “I like the idea of dressing you.”
“You’re not talking some weirdo cos-play shit, are you?  I hate the BDSM-themed crap – so 1980s.”
Angus used the tablet to take several pictures. “I’ll get your measurements to Pierre and have it here, ah, is 7 okay?”
“You’re sure they’ll have enough time?” replied Deetz sarcastically.
Angus said, “Mate, that man has gotten me a complete after dinner suit in 2 hours.”  He waved Deetz off. “Don’t call me a snob. It’s all done by computers and AI nowadays. The only person rushing is the driver from town. When he arrives with our packages, I will offer a tip large enough for a lavish dinner in Briton with his girlfriend.”
“Show off!” Deetz got up from the table.  “Let’s get dressed so you can spend your billions on a poor bloke with college loans.”
Angus was not one for art.  “Must we?  Why not stay here and ah, . . . you know.”  Deetz shook his head ‘no’ so Angus got up and quipped, “Ah what I do for lust!”
********************************
             The fair’s crowd was likely the composed of all the closeted gay elite of London (the Cardiff ones went to London’s affair where they could feel elite while wealthy). They glared at each piece whether they understood art or not, dressed in their casual, loose trousers and silk Hawaiian shirts. The boy toys and over-the-hill chicken were easy to identify in their jeans and white t-shirts.  Llikely, for some, it was first clothing in a while that wasn’t from the bin. Unchallenging modern jazz drifted in the background as Angus and Deetz arrived at the gate.  “Oh my!  Has hell frozen over? Or is this the infamous Desmond Mac Innes, breaker of many hearts!” screamed a rather large person with a make-up lay-out that would be Divine’s envy. The person had a badge that said, “Queen Monty, he/she/they”. She came from around the table and hugged Deetz like a mom welcoming her kid back from summer camp. “Where have you been? Don’t you know how to email somebody?”
Deetz, to Angus’s surprise, took and returned the hug. “I’m sorry Mamma. I know I’ve been a bad boy, not giving you the attention you deserve.”
“I may or I may not forgive you,” she said, pinching Deetz’s side. She looked over his shoulder, pointed at Angus with a long, royal blue lacquered fingernail and motioned him to come forward.  “It can’t be. Really, Desmond?! Did you finally snag your prince?”
Deetz immediately turned bright red, whispering “I’m sorry” to Angus who was studded at her forwardness. “Yes,” he finally said.  “Let’s get out of the way,” he added, pulling both of them to the side. “Yes, Mamma this is Angus Reese, the 12th Earl of Glamorgan. Angus, this is Tyrone Monty, a.k.a. Queen Monty, a.k.a. Mamma.  This lovely creature kept an eye on my lost ass while I was first figuring it out. She was the one who made it okay for me to say “bi” and kept my drinking managed . . . “
“. . . until the silly fool moved to the States! If he’d stayed here, as Cousin Scarlett said, he wouldn’t have fallen so low.”  She mussed Deetz’s hair. “But that isn’t the way of my Desmond!” He looked back at Angus. “And I’d recognize this one anywhere.  Desmond described his prince as ‘an Adonis with a Welsh soul.  Plus you have that air of royalty and well-rooted privilege.  But I think Deetz undersold your looks . . . what a stunning piece of candy!” She winked at Angus.
“Thank you?” replied Angus whose vanity appreciated the stroking.
Mamma inquired, “What brings you two here?”
“We just renovated an old motorhome . . . doing a little trip up the coast. What’s your connection to Cousin Scarlett?” replied Angus.
“She saved my life.  Some bullies with latent internalized homophobia tried to beat me to death. She shot all three of them dead. Then she saw me through the PTSD that followed.”
Deetz added, “Cousin Scarlett hosts this event then invites every rich gay she knows to see and buy from new queer artists. Mamma’s been program planner from the beginning.   They put together the ladies event at the end of the summer as well.”
The three of them exchanged promises to meet up later. 
They couldn’t have been more than ½ a meter away when Angus blurted out, “Did you sleep with him? How many of your old lovers am I going to run into?”
“What, jealous?” teased Deetz. “I can’t say we won’t, but Monti was not one of them. If anything, she kept the predators off me.  I owe her in ways I’ll never be able to repay.”
“She said you talked about me a lot.”
Deetz rolled his eyes, It is always about him, isn’t it! “Yes, when I was younger and drunker.” Angus frowned so Deetz shoved him teasingly. “Let it go! We’ve both had a life before now.”
“I reckon,” Angus acquiesced. He started looking at the artwork. He found he liked much of it, particularly the erotic photos.  Some were whimsical (a painting of Beyonce riding a horse like Lady Godiva), others were political (a sculpture depicting various racial minorities clawing up a slippery stripper’s pole to a million-dollar bill), while others were just beautiful.  Angus was recognized rather quickly, particularly after he purchased several expensive pieces from a number of artists.  Acquaintances – from a businessman who ran the region’s largest shipping company to the mayor of a med-size town – came up to speak with him.  He was extremely charming and kept the conversation light, like a politician on an exploratory campaign tour. But this wasn’t because of any discomfort about being seen at a gay event, as he would have acted similarly had he seen them at some other, nonwork related gathering.  Angus was one to keep his business and personal lives separate, just as his father had taught him.  Unfortunately, in this situation, being so above things would work to his disadvantage in the long run. 
While Angus held court at the front of the bar, surrounded by four middle-aged, potbelly men and their rented eye-candy, Deetz smiled admiringly at him.  He wondering what trouble these troll queens were going to cause later.  Deetz sensed their envy and constant wonder if Angus was for real.   He wondered if he should say something.  Angus could spot a good deal faster than hawk spots prey.  But this was a different world.  Even in the 21st century there were still plenty of queers whose wokeness was like that of an Evangelical preacher on Sunday morning.  The rules of decorum were different in the closet – more like a high school locker room than Question Time.  Just as Deetz found a lull in the conversation, Angus declared, “Sorry boys,” he said when Deetz came to his side. “I’ve got to catch that artist, John-Philip.  I’ve got to have that large print of his.”  The other gentlemen nodded affirmatively.  “But I promise I’ll be right back.” 
Angus dashed off so Deetz returned to his bar stool.  He waved Monti over, who was doing her favourite job as a lead bartender (she always wanted to be like Sam Malone in Cheers). “The usual?” asked Monti.
“Extra lemon, my man,” replied Deetz.  
“He’s a businessman?” asked Monti.
“Venture Capitalist but not like I know the difference.”
Monti put the glass of water and heavy lemon in front of Deetz. “So, what’s up? I thought he was straight.”
“Apparently so did he!” Deetz answered. “It’s some complicated family history but my sense is he’s sincere.”
“Sincere about what?”
“Being in love with me,” Deetz said shrugging his shoulders and sipping water from the paper straw.  
“What do you feel?”
Deetz looked back at Angus haggling animatedly with the artist. When he noticed him looking, Angus gave Deetz a big smile. A warm feeling arose from Deetz’s belly and ended as goosebumps across his arms. “I could always take my foot off the brake.”
“And you haven’t.”
“Give me a break, Mamma,” he groaned. “Considering my history, why would I be eager to shack up with anyone?”
The older man cocked his head to the left as if he wondered what language Deetz was speaking. “This should be easy! Just enjoy yourself. You know each other and were already friends. Why does it have to be anything more than friends enjoying themselves.”
“He said he loved me.”
“When? When he was ploughing your ass or when you were on your needs blowing him? Darlin, his dick is in love with you. And what if he was? How would it be so bad? ‘Cuz honey, if you don’t want ‘em, I’ll be happy to take him off your hands. Yum, yum, yum!”
Deetz threw the coaster at her. “Don’t you dare!”  
While they both laughed, Angus returned to the bar. 
“Hey, did I miss something?”
“No,” said Deetz, “what’s up?”
“Do you think I should get the statue too?  I think it would look nice at that cove on the stairs. Nevermind, I know, I know.  You could care less.”  Angus said before kissing Deetz’s nose, “I’ll be right back!”
 “Yes, sure.” Deetz offered a dopey grin. “I’ll be here.”
Hadn’t walked off too far before the people at the bar started laughing. “You two are so cute!” Monti replied. “He has a kindness about him.”
“Mamma, you seem to be talking out of both sides.  First you say I should do friends-with-benefits then you say I should marry him tomorrow.”
Monti ignored him.  She continued, “And if he is half as fabulous as you used to describe, you should let him collar you.”  Monti started washing glasses.
“Collar me? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“Why not? You’ve offered it to lesser men. At least this time, the guy cares for you.”
“Rude!”
“Ah but true,” Monti countered before he walked off to serve a real customer. Deetz’s mind moved like clicks up an excit-o-meter thinking about being collared by Angus. While Deetz didn’t like the BDSM lifestyle, he liked elements of the sex and collaring was one of them. He wanted to give himself to someone, something which became more important to him since this last bought of recovery.  It would be a private matter, an inner exploration of trust and the true meaning of submission. Such trust would take a lot out of Deetz but what joy if it came to pass. When Monti returned, he said, “Let’s see what happens.” 
Angus and Deetz returned to Sugar just in time to meet the delivery person. Angus offered a tip of £150.   The soft butch 20-something dyke nearly fainted but promised to use the money for a night on the town with her wife. Deetz was deeply moved by the kindness and rewarded Angus with a kiss on the cheek.  Angus found that having Deetz’s approval was important to him, further proof that what was between them was more than just sex.  That thought made him blush and that made Deetz blush as well.
Before they found themselves doing something else, the boys took their packages inside.  Their matching crisp white linen jacket and trousers fit like they were hand-stitched by a master tailor not a laser printer.  They also left little to the imagination. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to wear underwear with this,” Angus commented.
“Heavens no!  This dance is about showing off what your mother gave you.  And, I must say, mum gave you a pretty package!” said Deetz. 
As Deetz walked past, Angus slapped his ass. Deetz let out an abbreviated version of ‘that moan’ Angus loved.  But this time Angus wasn’t responding to the Deetz’s moan as much as he was liking the crack sound his hand made and how Deetz’s ass quivered afterwards. Deetz knew it. And knowing it made him feel very powerful. 
Angus caught his look in the mirror.  “I’m going to conquer this random grey hair,” Angus said before dashing into the bathroom and avoid evidence of his sudden arousal.   
“Don’t be long! I want to get back there before the good hors d'oeuvres are gone!” Deetz hollered, trying to suppress his laughter.
They did arrive before the good appetizers were gone. 
The art was covered, and booths secured for the night.  Café seating was extended by temporary faux wood flooring.  A few people were already dancing. Monti and his crew of stud muffin servers were busy replacing the glasses of already drunk customers. The boys arrived looking like a 21st-century episode of Miami Vice, only British and with tattoos. A thumping Detroit techno was being spun expertly by a professional DJ.  Albeit unplanned, the music served as walk-in background music, like one sees at the start of a MMA bought.  As they were the star attraction, people made room for them on the dance floor.  Most were still partially dressed. Others had arrived in only a white bandanna covering their dick.  It was warm and the air was thick with sexual potentiality, like a neuron waiting for at dopamine rush.  The stars hung over like well-organized LEDs strung just for this occasion.  It seemed that Hashem had special ordered this evening. “Let’s dance!” exclaimed Angus as he dragged Deetz toward the crowd. 
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Deetz said under his breath. It made no sense because he was such a physically attuned lover. But as much as he liked dancing, Angus moved like the Tin Man after drinking three martinis in the rain.  It was horrifying. However, he was so cute doing those stiff monkey moves others laughed and forgave him.  Money and charm will do that for you, thought Deetz.  Still, it’s kinda nice to be the one at the dance with the prom king.
After a while, Angus got thirsty. “I don’t see the waiter.”
“Hard to miss – I’ve never seen such a small jockstrap!”
“Or is his package that substantial?” They both laughed while walking over to one of the tables. Angus said, “I’ll get us something. Sparkling water?” Deetz nodded. 
The bar was surprisingly barren when Angus came up to Monti. “Hello, cutie! What can Mamma get ya?”
“Thanks, a gin and tonic with two limes and a sparkling water with lemon, Angus said.  “Deetz told me about you.”
Monti took another’s drink order then started making Angus’s. She said, “Oi! I know more about you than your nanna does sweetheart! You were the only thing that one would talk about when he was drinking, drowning the local flies with his tears of longing. Few of us, gay or straight, are lucky enough to kiss our prince!”
“What did he say about me?”
“Mostly the idealization of a young boy then the fantasies of a young man. I didn’t even  know your real name until about five years ago.  Sobriety matured him though, slowed him down. Last time I saw Deetz, he’d lost weight, buffed up, and stop taking shit from random assholes and slappers out on the stroll.” Monti finished making Angus’s drinks then put them on the counter. Angus offered his credit card. Monti ran it, then asked, “Receipt?” Angus shook his head. When Angus started to grab his card back, Monti grasped his hand. Squeezing it firmly, she said fiercely, “Don’t break his heart. He’s more sensitive than you know, more fragile.  He’s like a son to me.  Hurt him, and I’ll find you.” Angus was quite shocked, being he was usually the person giving commands. For a moment, Monti had nearly transformed from a kindly queen to something scary, like if Yogi the Bear had anger management problems.
Angus must have still looked strange when he returned to their table for Deetz asked, “What’s up?”
“Oh nothing,” Angus replied as he put the drinks down. “We’ve danced. I’ve drunk two gin and tonics while outing half the civil service at Westminster and the Footsie.  Now what?”
“Ready to go home?”
“I’m ready to put my hands between your legs, that’s what I’m ready for!” Angus grinned.
Deetz rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible and frankly you could do that at this table, and nobody would blink.”
“Right,” said Angus as he leaned forward and put his hand solicitously between Deetz’s thighs just short of the balls. “It is not as much fun as when you’re naked but it’s a start.” He kissed Deetz, his tongue rolling slowly against Deetz’s.  Angus abruptly pulled back just to watch Deetz’s eyes flutter open.  Angus squeezed the left thigh, making sure his knuckles lightly massaged Deetz’s balls.  Angus whispered in his ear, “Again, I’ve had enough appetizers. I’ll skip the main course and go right to the dessert.”  He bit Deetz’s shoulder fiercely, nearly drawing blood.
Deetz’s exhaled, “Please.”
“Tell me,” Angus groaned, “what do you want?”
Deetz jumped up then grabbed Angus’s hand to pull him up. He started to drag Angus toward Sugar, nearly knocking over several surrounding empty chairs. “I’d rather show you.”


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ABOUT THE SHOW If Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David could make a show about nothing… we figured we could make a Jewish podcast about everything. How does Judaism intersect with contemporary culture and illuminate how people live their lives? We don’t profess to have answers, just a host of questions, some profound, some rather goofy. Along the way we’ll learn about Judaism, the arts, politics, living a good life, and the interconnectedness of all things. Join Reconstructing Judaism's Bryan Schwartzman and Rachael Burgess for a weekly podcast about everything Jewish. Subscribe by Email This podcast is produced by Reconstructing Judaism. Visit us at ReconstructingJudaism.org.

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