“That does nothing to help me,” I said. “How can you even look at me after I said that, much less have sex with me? What kind of masochist are you?”
“What did you and Darren dirty talk about?” he asked, just throwing that out there as if it didn’t have the force of a fucking grenade.
“I told him I wanted to put my spunk in his trunk,” I admitted.
“And you were sober?”
“Mostly.”
“Wow,” Brian said. “You really are terrible at it.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grumbled, absolutely refusing to look over at Darren.
I FINISHED with Brian about a half hour later and sent him down to Paul, Vince, and Kori to get into his geisha costume and wig. Paul had been my right-hand drag man for years and was one of the only people I trusted to know how to complete the costume, which is why I put him and the others in charge of dressing the homo jocks so we could focus on the makeup. The homo jocks were in various stages of makeup, some more intricate than others to go along with the costumes. I’d decided to leave the full drag costume idea to each of the individual queens assigned (except for Summer because Summer didn’t get to have ideas on her own as of yet). Sofonda was going with some kind of Xena/steampunk fusion. Crystal was going full-on Moulin Rouge, big hair and sexy colors. Georgia was going for two different decades of Cher. Summer had wanted to do something grandiose and ridiculous (“Gay Star Wars meets Jennifer Lopez! In space!”), but was shot down in favor of something a bit more simplistic having to do with butterflies and unicorns and Lady Gaga. Or something. I tried not to think about it anymore because I probably would have torn my wig hair out before lighting her on fire.
And then there was Darren.
Trust me when I say I’d thoug
ht long and hard about what to do with Darren. There were so many ideas that I had, some sensual and absurd, others more of a traditional route. The idea of drag is playing with gender roles, and there was something erotic about the size and masculinity of Darren Mayne turned into something with a female bent to it. Drag queens didn’t always need to be slim or slender. Granted, it helped the illusion more, but it didn’t always have to be that way.
The other homo jocks had known what their roles were going to be before they sat down in the makeup chair because they’d been paired with queens that weren’t me.
Brian and Darren hadn’t known a thing.
Just the way I liked it.
But Brian was on his way downstairs knowing what he was walking into or, at the very least, having an idea. He’d grinned delightedly in the mirror at his reflection, lips red and face white, eyes smoky and dark. “It’s only a little racist,” he assured me.
Darren still didn’t know what I had planned for him.
It was going to be amazing.
I beckoned him with a finger. He pushed his way off the wall and stalked toward me, muscles tensing and flexing as he moved. His thighs were hairy and thick and I studiously avoided the image of them wrapped around my waist. He wasn’t going to make the prettiest drag queen there ever was, but if I could pull off what I’d planned, it’d be more epic than not.
I was probably doomed.
“Sit down,” I said.
He looked as if he was going to speak but, instead, shook his head and did what he was told. I dug through my makeup case, looking for the eyeliner and mascara I needed. His makeup wouldn’t be as complex as Brian’s, but I felt the need to take extra care of him. Brian seemed to be going with the flow on this whole thing. I didn’t know how far out of Darren’s comfort zone this was. Regardless of the confusion that was my feelings toward him, I didn’t want to make things awkward for him.
Well. Any more awkward.
Because when he heard what his costume was….
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He sounded grumpy.
“I’ve been busy,” I countered. “Drag bachelor auctions to save gay bars disguised as helping crack babies don’t plan themselves.”
“And I chose to be here,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Sure,” I said. “You’ve made good choices. Mostly.”
“Really.” He sounded skeptical.
I shrugged. “You’ve gotten this far, haven’t you?”
He tried to catch my gaze. “With you, you mean.”