The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set

by Alex Carreras

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Maybe you should go back to the park tomorrow around the same time?” Mitch suggested. “Dogs and their owners normally adhere to schedules so…”

  “I don’t want to come off as a stalker.”

  “Joggers typically run around the same time too. You won’t come off as a stalker. Eager, maybe. But that is not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Mitch shot back. “Drop hints. Ask what bars or clubs he hangs out at. Which gym. You’ll know who he prefers if he says his favorite place in town is the Purple Rhino. No straight guy is hanging out at that place.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Will you, or are you just saying that?”

  “When did you turn into such a nag?”

  “I’ve always been one, but I’ve never nagged you. Now it’s your turn.” Mitch stabbed a finger at Josh’s chest. “Tomorrow at midday, you are jogging in the park, and that is final. Got it?”

  Josh acquiesced. “Got it.”

  “Now go get a shower. You’re stinking up the place.”

  * * * *

  Allowing the warm water to sluice over his body, Josh angled his face into the relaxing jets of the shower, thinking about his conversation with Mitch. Maybe he is right. Maybe he should not allow fate to find him a man but instead create the situation himself, making it happen. There was nothing wrong in pursuing a potential partner. People have been doing it for years. Why shouldn’t he? He was tired of waiting for his dream guy to appear at his door, holding a bunch of flowers and vowing to spend his life with him. That would never happen, Josh knew.

  Filled with a sense of excitement and optimism, Josh made the decision that the next day he would strap on his favorite running shoes and pull out his tightest tank top that left nothing to the imagination and head out to Island Park. If he just happened to run into Darius walking King, that would be great. And if he didn’t, maybe he would pick out the most attractive guy and strike up a conversation. He had nothing to lose.

  As the water loosened his tired muscles, Josh soaped his body into a frothy lather. His dick grew hard when he neared his sensitive nipples. He gazed down, his cock covered in foam. Working over his nipples, he tweaked and pinched until both budded under his touch. Sliding one hand down his abdomen, Josh found his dick. His breath caught in his throat as he began to stroke his length, long and slow. That feels so good. Rolling his left nipple between thumb and forefinger and massaging his length, he rested his back against the cool tiles of the shower wall. Images of Darius joined him in the shower, his dream man sliding open the curtain and stepping in with that sexy smile stretched across his full lips. The thought pushed a strangled groan from Josh’s lips. Darius was slim and well built; that Josh could discern from his brief encounter in the park earlier, but his cock size was left to Josh’s imagination. His gut instinct told Josh that, if and when he got the chance to see it in person, he would be anything but disappointed. Allowing himself to run with the fantasy, Josh stroked harder paying special attention to the sensitive meaty head. Now using both hands, he cupped his loaded sac, squeezing and taunting his balls. In a heated frenzy, unable to withstand his self-torture any longer, Josh pumped quickly, his hands nothing but a blur. Through a rush of blood coursing in his ears, a flurry started deep in his belly and buzzed up and down his shaking thighs. Arching his back against the wall and widening his legs for support, the rush of orgasm washed over Josh’s body and pierced his brain. He was blind with lust as ropes of pearly liquid exploded from his cock, hitting the shower curtain with force. Over and over, the sweet youthful juice came as he rode the wave of ecstasy. As Josh waited for his heart and lungs to return to a normal pace, he immersed his body under the powerful jets, allowing the warm water to wash away any self-doubt down the drain. It was time to stop fooling around. Or maybe in his case, start fooling around. The next day, he was going to find Darius. And if the universe aligned, maybe his shower fantasy would become a reality.

  Chapter Three

  Darius climbed the three steps that led to a sagging porch. The flooring gave with each step he took. Turning the handle and opening the door to step into the kitchen, he yelled out, “Mom, it’s me. Are you here?” Estelle didn’t always lock her door, day or night, no matter how many times he’d asked her to. He was met with silence. “Mom,” he said again.

  “Can’t a woman take a nap around here?”

  Darius wondered if she was truly annoyed or joking. In a few moments, he was sure he’d know which. “Didn’t want to scare you, that’s all.” He walked into the living room, which was just off the kitchen, the shades drawn against the intense Florida sun. He blinked a few times waiting for his vision to adapt. “Are you in here?” Darius looked in the direction of the couch, assuming that’s where she would be.

  “That damn couch sags more than the front porch. Can’t rest there. Breaks my back.” Seated in a BarcaLounger, which no longer rocked, the springs rusted out long ago, Estelle peered at Darius through squinted eyes. “I got one of my headaches.”

  “Want me to fetch you some aspirin?” When Darius said fetch, King began to pant. “Not you, boy.”

  Estelle chuckled. “God can only love a creature that ugly. Where did you get that poor soul?”

  “He found me. Wandered up to my door one night so I took him in.”

  “That’s about the same way I met your father, except he wasn’t as hairy as that thing.” Estelle indicated King with a quick jerk of her chin.

  “Now, Mom, you know that Dad’s pretty hairy. Little less on top these days, more on the back and shoulders.”

  She laughed harder. “Please tell me he gets that taken care of, that poor wife of his. Thinks she’s sleeping with a gorilla.”

  “Be thankful he doesn’t live down here. During the summer months, he insists on wearing tank tops. It’s not a pretty sight.”

  “I bet not.” Estelle reached up with both hands and massaged her temples. “There was some loose talk about aspirin.”

  Before going into the kitchen to retrieve what he’d promised, he unfastened King from his leash. On locating the aspirin from an over cramped counter, he unscrewed the top and shook out two into the palm of his hand. Picking up a glass that seemed to always be by the sink, Darius filled it half-full with water from the tap and returned to Estelle’s side.

  “Here,” he said. “And drink the entire glass. You could be dehydrated.”

  “When did you become a doctor?” Estelle took the glass and tablets. She popped both into her mouth and drank the contents of the glass in its entirety. “Why can’t water taste like Cabernet?” She scrunched up her nose. “Never did like the stuff.”

  “Because if it did, the world would be in trouble.”

  “A little spirits never hurt anyone, son.”

  “Yes,” Darius agreed. “But the key is only a little.”

  “Save your lectures.” Estelle’s tone was one of warning. “Besides, isn’t it the parent who should be doing that, not the child?”

  “I may be your child, but I’m an adult now.”

  “I liked you better when you were a child. You were much more easygoing.”

  Darius let the comment slide. If he didn’t, he knew that his mother would only become less agreeable as the day went on.

  “Did you get those things on the list like I asked you to?”

  “I decided to drop King off first, then go back out. It’s getting hot, and I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t think he’s used to this weather yet. King’s a Detroit dog.”

  “You really do baby that thing.”

  “He’s a dog, Mom. Not a thing.”

  The gaze she turned on her son was no longer friendly. “Are you saying that I have no feelings? That I abuse animals now?”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You didn’t have to. I know how you feel about me, that I abandoned you. Let me tell you one thing”—she
stabbed a finger at Darius—“it was your father who messed everything up, not me. Your life and mine. But no matter how many times I try to convince you, you still won’t accept it. Your head is as hard as your father’s, that manipulative fuck.”

  “Look, I don’t want to fight. And I don’t think you are or ever were a bad mother. You do the best that you can. No one is perfect, including me. Please, let’s forget I said anything.”

  Darius’s speech, which he had practiced over the years, placated Estelle, at least for the time being. Estelle took a deep breath and her face visibly relaxed as she settled against the back of the chair.

  “I don’t want to fight either. I hate it when we are at odds.” A slow smile took away her frown. “Please have a seat and tell me something pleasant about your day while I rest my eyes.”

  Darius sat on the couch across from his mother. She was right about its condition. Sinking lower than expected, he tried his best to find a comfortable position. King trotted up and rolled into a furry ball at his feet.

  “I wore the little guy out.”

  “You seem a little frazzled, too, baby. All good with you?” Estelle’s eyes remained shut, but the furrowed forehead began to disappear. “Your father didn’t call with any bad news, did he?”

  “Nothing like that, Mom. King tried to give me the slip today. Scared the hell out of me. All I could picture was a bundle of fur in the middle of Highway 41.”

  “He looks the type. Squirrelly rascal.” She licked her lips, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and saliva dominating the room. It was the sound of depression and sickness, Darius thought. “So, since he’s happy at your feet, I gather you caught up with King.”

  “Caught is the operative word. He tangled himself into a jogger’s legs.” Darius chuckled with the memory. “Poor guy. He was really a sport about it.”

  “Thank the Lord it all turned out okay. I hope you apologized profusely for your ill-mannered pet’s behavior.”

  “I did, but I wanted to do more.”

  Estelle groaned, and her eyes cracked open to two slits. “Please don’t make my headache come back. It’s all about gone.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I know what you say you are, but don’t bring it to my doorstep. The sweet Lord might forgive you, but the Bible says men like you are sinners.”

  Keep calm, Darius pleaded with himself. Forgive her ignorance. He took in a deep sustaining breath. “Sorry you feel that way, but not everyone does.”

  “That’s fine too.” The tilt of her head and angle of her gaze dared Darius to continue. “You’re not living with those people. For the time being, you are living with me. I believe in the Bible. What it says is what I live by.”

  Darius wondered what the Bible said about alcoholism. But according to Estelle, she had no issues on that front. “I know how you feel about homosexuality. You’ve made it your point for me to know.”

  “Was this guy in the park one of your types?”

  Darius shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure. Maybe.”

  “Don’t you fellows come equipped with gaydar? At least that’s what I’ve been told. My friend Jessie says her brother C.J., who is gay, knows if other guys are too. If he does, that’s quite a unique feature to have.”

  “Good for C.J., but I don’t think I come equipped with that”—Darius paused and rolled his eyes upward—“feature.”

  “That’s a shame, because it sounds kinda cool.” They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, the air in the room heavy and stale, until Estelle asked a question that stunned and disturbed Darius. “This guy … in the park … was he white?”

  “What does that have to—?”

  “Was he white?” The words felt as if they pierced his flesh.

  “He was.”

  “What have I told you?” She didn’t wait for a response. “White men are no good. I’m living proof of that. Listen to your mother because I’m getting sick and tired of telling you, and if you must go out with a man, choose one who has your skin color.”

  Darius looked at his arm, the light golden brown shade of his skin. “That’s racist and just plain ignorant.”

  “It might be racist, but ignorant is debatable.”

  “Mother, our skin color doesn’t look the same. Does that make me a lesser person? Someone who can’t be trusted?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “In some circles, you’ll never be accepted, black and white.”

  “Great, since I’m considered to be neither, then I don’t have to play by anyone else’s rules.”

  Estelle fully opened her eyes, and she angled forward in her chair. “You’re in this house, so you play by mine. No men especially if they are white.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll never see him again.”

  “I know you don’t understand why I’m being the way that I am, but I have my reasons. Just don’t feel like explaining them.” She took in a deep breath and relaxed. “Before you head back out to the store, would you please pour me a drink?”

  “Would you like a soda or some ice tea? Or maybe more water.”

  “Don’t make me get up from here and smack you upside your funny shaped head.”

  “Can’t you forget about that stuff if only for a day? That’s why you’re sitting in the dark with your head feeling the way it does. Yesterday you had too much, and now you are suffering the consequences.”

  “Who said I had too much?” Estelle questioned. “Since I’m the one drinking, don’t you think that I should be the one to make that judgment?”

  Darius felt exhausted, and he was tired of trying to help someone who didn’t believe she had a problem. Soon after he had arrived, Darius had suggested Alcoholic Anonymous, private therapy, even a thirty-day live-in treatment center he’d discovered on the Internet, which had a great success rate, but Estelle refused through harsh words and sometimes tears when she felt she was losing the fight. Darius was tired of nagging. He stood, King scurrying from his feet.

  “I’ll be glad to fix you anything you want just as long as it does not contain any alcohol. I refuse to have any hand in your death.”

  Her laugh was a cackle. “Why are your types so dramatic? Do I look like I’m going to die anytime soon? For your information, I have a date tonight with a very attractive man.” Estelle held her head high, proud and haughty. “He’ll be here around seven or so, so make yourself scarce. Dead, my ass.”

  “Mom, I think that’s great, but if he’s like all your other dates, do yourself a favor and stay home and watch HBO. In the morning, you’ll be much better for it.”

  “I’ll also be a dried-up spinster if I take on that kind of attitude.”

  “Mom, please—”

  “No more pleases and no more anything. If you can’t bring me a drink, just take your butt to the store like I asked you to do earlier. Think you can manage that?”

  “You think you can manage to keep an eye on King?”

  “I can do lots of things, sweetheart. I am your mother, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Nope. That is something I’ll never forget.”

  The growl Darius heard did not come from King. Taking his mother’s suggestion, he bent down and scrubbed his dog’s ear. “Love ya, boy, and take care of granny.”

  “I am not that mutt’s granny.”

  “Don’t let that mean old woman hurt your feelings,” Darius said. “Deep down she has a kind heart somewhere. Deep, deep down.”

  “Speaking of heart,” Estelle began, “add antacids to that list.” She knotted a hand under her breast and rotated. “Someone’s been churning up my stomach, and I feel like I’m being stabbed.”

  “Sure thing,” Darius said. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too, you rotten-ass boy.”

  Chapter Four

  Wearing his favorite gym outfit, Josh entered the park and searched the immediate horizon for Darius. At first, he was worried that he wouldn’t remember what the man looked like, but then he
remembered those eyes that seemed to stun Josh into silence and made his heart jump in his rib cage. But it wasn’t only his handsome face that was memorable. Josh hadn’t seen shoulders like Darius’s in a long time; they were wide, muscular, and altogether sheer perfection, much like the rest of his body. Doing his best not to look too obvious—Josh’s head turning left, then right, then left again—he reined in the impulse to search every square inch of the park, and instead, focused on running. If meeting Darius again was meant to be, then it would happen with minimal effort. It was Josh’s experience that the best things in life came naturally, not forced. Organically, not manipulated.

  But after running the same loop for over three-fourths of an hour, Josh’s cute outfit began to stretch and sag, and his gelled hair flopped over his forehead like wet noodles abandoned on a plate. His feet throbbed and he was beginning to get a blister on his heel. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be perfect, like a scene from a rom-com, except in this movie the protagonists were gay instead of straight. Josh stopped dead in his tracks, almost causing a pileup of baby strollers, young mothers giving him a few choice words their children would no doubt remember and repeat later.

  What in the hell am I doing? And when did I start taking love advice from Mitch? AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Josh screamed in his head, angry that he was acting like some desperate lovesick fool. Am I a lovesick fool? The truth was beginning to sting.

  Shoulders slumped and dragging his feet, Josh began to head home, tired of playing this pathetic game. Plus, he didn’t have all morning to wait for some random man—who could be straight—in the hopes of scoring a date. Josh had promised his aunt Celeste that he’d cover at her namesake bakery for one of her employees, who was having her gallbladder removed. It wasn’t a bad gig since his colorful aunt usually paid him an exorbitant amount, but it was the last thing he felt like doing right then. Maybe he’d feel differently after raiding her cupcake counter, shoving the sweet treats in his mouth two by two. After asking the time from a passerby, Josh stepped up the pace to make it to Confections by Celeste on time. Since he didn’t have a steady-paying job at the moment, the cash would come in handy. And if he didn’t hurry, there might not even be that.