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ds_flashfiction2003-05-22 08:02 pm
prudentia.livejournal.com) wrote in ds_flashfiction2003-05-22 08:02 pm
Entry tags:
Curtain Challenge
Just a silly little thing. Though I have a new personal best. I've smashed through the 100-word barrier.
Ray looked at his reflection in the men's room mirror and started humming as the first strains of 'Staying Alive' drifted in from the hall. Yeah, Barry was *the man*, even if he did sing like his nuts were caught in a vice. He smoothed the lapels of his white suit, undid another button on his shiny black satin shirt and straightened his heavy gold chain, hoping to God Ma wouldn’t be looking for her second best crucifix tonight. Shit, when was his chest hair gonna start growing? Tommy Murphy looked like a gorilla already. He patted at the curtain of hair waving down almost to his shoulders. Perfect. Big hair, hard as iron, not daring to move -- thanks to Frannie’s hairdryer and Ma’s extra-extra-hold hairspray.
He glanced backwards as the door opened. Kowalski. The little punk who hated disco and said dancing sucked. Though Ray had seen him dance with Stella, their bodies pressed together so tight. He’d dreamed it was him and slept on a towel for a week after. Kowalski, who liked The Ramones and the Clash. Who wore clothes with holes in them, who had a tattoo, and a safety pin through his ear. Who had hair that stuck up all over his head, and the prettiest eyes and the sexiest smile Ray had ever seen.
‘Hey, Medallion Man!’ Kowalski was standing there, looking straight at him with his pretty eyes, and smiling at him with his sexy smile. Ray turned, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back against the door. Grinding their bodies together, he ran his hand through the bleach-blond spikes. ‘Hey, Kowalski!’ he grinned. ‘Mine’s stiffer than yours.’
Ray looked at his reflection in the men's room mirror and started humming as the first strains of 'Staying Alive' drifted in from the hall. Yeah, Barry was *the man*, even if he did sing like his nuts were caught in a vice. He smoothed the lapels of his white suit, undid another button on his shiny black satin shirt and straightened his heavy gold chain, hoping to God Ma wouldn’t be looking for her second best crucifix tonight. Shit, when was his chest hair gonna start growing? Tommy Murphy looked like a gorilla already. He patted at the curtain of hair waving down almost to his shoulders. Perfect. Big hair, hard as iron, not daring to move -- thanks to Frannie’s hairdryer and Ma’s extra-extra-hold hairspray.
He glanced backwards as the door opened. Kowalski. The little punk who hated disco and said dancing sucked. Though Ray had seen him dance with Stella, their bodies pressed together so tight. He’d dreamed it was him and slept on a towel for a week after. Kowalski, who liked The Ramones and the Clash. Who wore clothes with holes in them, who had a tattoo, and a safety pin through his ear. Who had hair that stuck up all over his head, and the prettiest eyes and the sexiest smile Ray had ever seen.
‘Hey, Medallion Man!’ Kowalski was standing there, looking straight at him with his pretty eyes, and smiling at him with his sexy smile. Ray turned, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back against the door. Grinding their bodies together, he ran his hand through the bleach-blond spikes. ‘Hey, Kowalski!’ he grinned. ‘Mine’s stiffer than yours.’
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And the Vecchio/Kowalski tangle? Icing on the cake.
(And though I mocked him mercilessly, at 50 my bro is still the best dance partner I know. He understands how to lead.)
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I think I've just given my age away.
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