"For this to work, I can't be glamorous.", John kept his voice low.
The staff lounge was not the best place to have private phone
conversations. "Listen, just getting him to come out for the parade
took more persuading than either of us thought."
"Tell me about it." Cyril giggled. "Getting Charles to go to any
public display where there will be feathers, men in dresses, or all
of the above usually requires me to go on my knees."
"Why didn't I think of that?", Carter said in a normal level of voice
as Dr. Dave wandered in looking for a cold drink. "Listen, can I call
you later? Traffic is beginning to pick up around here."
"I'll be waiting with baited breath. Ciao, bambino."
"Toodles."
"Who on earth were you talking to?" Malucci rubbed a can of soda
across his forehead. The air conditioning was on the blink. Cooke
County's ER was closed to multiple traumas, that is, major disasters
where three or more trauma cases arrived simultaneously. Considering
that these happened rarely, the staff was less than overjoyed by the
compromise. The temperature at the admit desk was just over 95
degrees. In the windowless treatment and trauma rooms it was worse.
"Remember the guy that came back with me after my long vacation?"
John grinned. His co-workers were still talking about Cyril's
flamboyant departure from the hospital.
"Nuff said." Malucci laughed. "He didn't strike me as the `see you
later' type. For him, 'Toodle-hoo' is perfect."
"You won't get any arguments from Cyril on that one.", John agreed
swigging cold water from a squeeze bottle.
"His parents named him `Cyril' and expected grand-children from this
guy?"
"Yeah. He wonders about that too."
"If I ever have kids, I'm not going to court trouble. Not that I
won't love them if they turn out to be gay... but sheesh! Cyril,
Cecil, Francis, ... you might as well hang signs on their necks
saying `I'm a sissy, please bully me.'"
"Don't forget Algernon, Aloysious, Alastair ..."
"So how *you'd* manage to turn out to be a switch-hitter?" Malucci
asked, then blushed. Carter didn't seem to be the sort of dude to
take offense, but you never knew.
"Beats the living hell out of me. It sure wasn't my names." Carter
sighed and pulled his scrub top off over his head. Kerry was
insisting, with good reason, that her staff retain some professional
decorum despite the heat. Nevertheless, every moment they could, the
troops could be glimpsed in various states of undress. "I noticed
*you* were one of the first to shave your legs." John observed
grinning again.
"I'm telling every woman I meet that I'm a swimmer." Malucci blushed
again. The ruling had come down from the seventh floor, if you were
shaved or naturally non-hirsute, shorts could be made out of the
scrubs. This had resulted in a fun-filled twenty minutes for Dr.
Weaver as she was treated to a display of legs before okaying their
owners to haul out the scissors and shorten their uniforms. Drs
Carter, Chen, and Finch were the only physicians to pass without
needing to resort to depilatories or razors. Connie, Haleh, Chuny,
and Yoshi were also lucky in their ancestry. All the rest griped,
grabbed razors, and headed for the showers.
"They buy that with *your* build?" Carter asked.
"So, you've been checking me out."
"Hey, I'm a married man remember?" Carter said.
"Doesn't keep you from looking."
"Trust me, Dr. Dave. You're safe from me." Carter splashed some water
on his face and re-dressed. "If I don't get back out there, Dr.
Weaver will have me over the coals and it's hot enough as it is."
"Yeah. When are they going to fix the air?"
"Probably five hours after the cold front from Canada makes its
appearance."
"Figures. I'm going to shower with my clothes on. Sweat, tap water;
what's the difference. I'll be soaked in half an hour regardless."
* * * * *
"He's in the lounge." Randi didn't even look up from her magazine.
"Thanks." Luka headed down the hall. "You ready to go?"
"Sure. Give me a sec' to put these charts back." John shut the locker
with his hip, and grabbed the stack of records.
It was actually cooler on the El' platform. Well, at least there was
a hot breeze blowing. John was no longer self-concious about his
surgical scars. This heat wave had cured him. It was too hot for
shirts. It was too hot for clothes. He and Luka wore jogging shorts
and sandals to and from work. The Chicago Transit Police had long
since given up trying to enforce the "shirts-on" policy for riders.
Tempers were short enough.
Both men were streaming with perspiration by the time they reached
their apartment. Without speaking, they ran for the bathroom,
stripping their few garments as they went. The cold water felt tepid
after the 100-plus degree heat outside. To prevent black-outs, their
apartment's thermostat was set to eighty-five.
Luka reached for the soap and lathered his husband. They'd been
married for just over eighteen months. John took the soap in his turn
and followed suit as Luka extracted a condom from the string bag
hanging from the shower head. He quickly put it on as John applied
lubricant to himself and his partner. Luka turned John away from him
and slowly entered the tight orifice. John leaned against the wall
and pushed back, taking every last inch.
"Gourmet or fast food?" Luka asked.
"As long as the water's running, take your time." John husked.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Luka began to thrust slowly while John
reciprocated moving his hips in counterpoint. Mindful of the fact
that sound carries all too well in bathrooms, their lovemaking
proceeded in virtual silence. Low moans from John and hoarse grunts
from Luka were barely heard over the sound of the water.
"Ohhh, sweet heavens, faster Luka." John groaned.
"We'll see..." Luka grinned and reached forward to stroke John's
rampant erection.
"Please, Luka... I'm dying here."
"Patience, doctor..." Luka bit down on his lower lip and continued
his slow lunges. John took matters into his control and began to
thrust back onto his husband. His quickened pace forced Luka to match
this new speed.
"Ohhh shit, that's good!" John growled over the sound of moistened
flesh slapping against moistened flesh. "Harder Sascha... Make me
come with you."
Luka complied, his control leaving him. He rode John with abandon as
his orgasm began building from the base of his spine. Crying aloud,
Luka climaxed as John's semen coated his fingers. They collapsed onto
the tile-covered bench, kissing madly.
* * * * *
"They're home.", an elderly woman observed to her husband. They were
seated in their bathtub one floor above.
"Youth is wasted on the young.", he kissed his wife.
* * * * *
John and Luka, completely unaware of their audience, dripped their
way into the bedroom. John turned on the box fan and flopped onto the
bed. Luka went to collect their clothes from the hall.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Cucumber salad?" John offered.
"Deal." Luka grinned and hauled John off the bed. They went into the
kitchen. The shades were pulled down throughout the apartment. They'd
become nudists at least until the heat wave broke. Both men left
bathrobes by the front door in the off chance of guests. Two maiden
ladies, down the hall had started dropping by to borrow things
shortly after the temperatures began to rise. As the only two men
under fifty in the building, John and Luka in bathrobes were becoming
a "hot" attraction.
"Do you think it will be this hot for the parade?" John asked as they
began to eat dinner.
"Probably. When do Charles and Cyril get in?" Luka speared a tomato
which promptly showered John with its seeds.
"Tomorrow evening." John grinned as Luka came over to lick up the
mess he'd made.
"Shit, that means we'll have to wear clothing."
"Come on, I thought you'd be sick of the sight of me by now."
"Nope." Luka smiled appreciatively at his husband.
"Flatterer. The view from here is much better." John said seriously.
* * * * *
Despite the heat, the drag queens were out in full force. Chicago's
annual parade of transvestites was in full swing.
"Charles! have you seen my eye-liner?" Cyril's voice rang out down
the hall.
"Try in the bathroom." Charles called out. He and his hosts were
sipping iced tea in the kitchen.
"How long until he's ready?" Luka wanted to know. The idea of men
dressing as women was a mystery to him. He loved John and he'd loved
his wife, but the idea of John in a dress and heels was inconceivable.
"If he's doing his face, only about another twenty minutes." Charles
grinned.
"I can't wait." Luka said wryly.
"Trust me, you won't recognize him." John laughed. He'd seen photos
of his friend. Luka was in for a surprise.
"Excuse me, do any of you handsome men want to help me with my
zipper.", the voice was soft and very throaty. Luka turned around and
stared openmouthed..
A maiden in the first blush of youth stood in the doorway. Cyril's
shoulder-length hair had been permed into a mass of blond curls which
framed a delicately pretty face. The two-piece sailor suit with short
pleated skirt showed off a pair of legs any woman would've been proud
to claim for hereself. His ankles seemed slender thanks to the large
satin bows adorning the straps to his high-heeled sandals.
Cyril glided over to his partner and stooped as Charles pulled up the
zipper to the mid-rift top. "Voila", he kissed Cyril's hands. He knew
better than to disturb the natural-looking make-up which had taken
over an hour to apply.
"That Frenchman taught you alot." Cyril purred.
"There was nothing he didn't know." Charles finished the quotation.
"Don't tell me, 'All About Eve': Thelma Ritter & Bette Davis." John
said.
"By George, I think he's got it." Cyril laughed.
"Let's get this one-woman show on the road." Charles stood up and
went to fetch Cyril's knapsack. "What have you got in this thing?
Bricks?"
"Just a change of clothes to come home in." Cyril winked at John. The
foursome left the apartment and headed for the El'.
* * * * *
All of gay Chicago plus quite a few straight-but-not-narrows had
flocked to the parade. Although there were a few full-length
ensembles, most of the drag queens had opted for short skirts or
culottes. Only those cursed with over-abundant testosterone or jobs
that prohibited shaved legs, wore the thick support hose needed to
smooth out masculine musculature. Despite his misgivings, Luka soon
relaxed and cheerfully flirted with the participants who made no
secret of their admiration.
Charles and Luka paired off while John and Cyril walked ahead of them.
"He's really convincing. If I hadn't known he was a man, I'd have no
idea." Luka admitted shaking his head at the trim legs dancing in
front of him.
"Well, stiff competition helps. The queens in San Francisco are
merciless." Charles explained. He's developed quite a few fans at the
club where he performs. You should see him as Grace Kelly."
"Ooooh my ears are burning." Cyril looked back over his shoulder and
winked. "Listen sweeties, I've simply got to pee. Do you mind if I
borrow your better half, Luka? A girl's not safe on her own in this
crowd."
"Be my guest. Far be it for me to get between a woman and the call of
nature." Luka grinned. The Long Island Iced Tea had relaxed him
considerably.
"Back in thirty." Cyril and John walked off, John carrying the heavy
knapsack. Once out of sight, they ducked into a cafe and headed for
the men's room.
"Thank God, you're not one of those hairy he-man types." Cyril
quickly got to work. They'd appropriated the handicapped
stall. "Since you'll be trousered, we can skip the camoflage
tackle.", he grinned. "Trust me, unless you're completely shaved,
that duct tape can be a bitch."
"Okay, what's first?" John sighed relieved he could skip taping his
penis out of the way.
"Bottoms first." Cyril handed John a pair of black silk slacks. "The
gathered waist will hide a multitude of sins.", he giggled as John
dropped his shorts revealing a pair of black silk briefs.
Carter tugged the slacks up and let Cyril settle them on his hips.
Then he removed his T-shirt and put on a crimson silk tunic top.
Next, John sat on the rim of the toilet and took off his shoes and
socks. Pale pink polish covered his toe nails. Cyril handed him a
pair of scarlet sandals with extremely modest heels, about the same
height as those found on men's boots.
"Okay, so far, faboo." Cyril gestured for John to stand up. The
younger man pulled out a hair brush and box of bobby pins. "Thank
God, you let your hair grow out." Cyril brushed John's hair off of
his face and up off his neck, leaving the shorter strands alone. He
pulled out a dark brown braided switch and pinned it securely to the
top-knot he'd made from John's own hair. A scarlet silk scrunchie
artfully hid where natural and artificial hair came together.
"This is definitely going to work." John said as they left the stall
and looked at himself in the mirror. "What about my ears?"
"Not to worry. First law of illusion, distract attention from what
you don't want noticed." Cyril produced a pair of clip-on ruby
earrings and put them on his friend. A flesh-colored silk loop held
them in place over John's ears. "Your hat will hold your aural
appendages close to your skull. Now for the magical finishing
touches." Cyril hauled out a make-up bag.
Ten minutes later, John looked at himself in wonder. If he hadn't
known any better, he could have sworn his sister was standing there.
Cyril had skillfully applied mascara and eye-liner to highlight
John's own lashes. A little blush and some peach eyeshadow and the
job was done. Crimson lipstick made the transformation complete.
Finally, Cyril carefully put on the black straw short-brimmed hat.
Its elastic headband covered the tops of John's ears and also helped
keep his back hair off of his neck.
"Done. Twenty mintues---a new world record. Shall we?" Cyril grinned
as he stuffed his equipment and John's clothes into the knapsack.
They checked the bag with one of cafe staff and returned to the
parade.
John found walking to be easier than he expected. The slight
elevation of the heels automatically produced a proportionate swing
to his hips. Putting his hands in his pockets, he looked like an
elegant society woman out for an afternoon stroll.
"Oops, I almost forgot." Cyril pulled a red silk scarf from his
pocket and tied it around John's neck. "Eve was framed.", he
laughed. "I mean, why do you think it's called *Adam's* apple?"
Five minutes later, they caught up to Luka and Charles.
"Hey, good looking." Cyril greeted his partner. "Did you miss me?"
John quietly walked up beside Luka and stood still looking out over
the water.
"Where's John?" Luka asked.
"Some poor queen in waay too much makeup and a ten pound wig started
feeling the heat. John is waiting with the suffering sister until the
paramedics arrive. He said we were to wait here." Cyril explained.
Why don't we get something cool to drink while Dr. Carter does his
thing?"
"Sure." Luka replied as Charles and Cyril joined the line at the
concession stand.
"It's really hot out here."
"Excuse me?" Luka turned to the woman on his right. Her face was
turned away from him.
"I said it's very hot.", a soft voice and French accent.
"Yes." Luka replied. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"Oui. My friends went to the toilets. That was almost an hour ago.
You're not an American."
"Actually I am. I was born in what is now Croatia. I've been a
citizen for almost two years."
"How do you say... It's a small world. My girlfriend is from
Sarajevo. Do you have a girlfriend?", she was looking down, so the
hat brim hid her eyes.
"No. I'm married to a doctor. His name is John."
"So you are gay?"
"Might as well be."
"I know what you mean. I fell in love with Elizaveta and that was
that. Although, if she takes much longer, I think I shall begin
divorcement proceedings." She sighed.
"I know what you mean." Luka smiled as Charles and Cyril returned
with four bottles of spring water.
"Hasn't John come back yet?"
"No. And if he's not back in five minutes I'm going after him." Luka
took the bottle of water and quickly drained a quarter of its
contents.
"Merci.", woman reached for the fourth bottle. The sun glinted off of
the silvery ring on her hand. Luka stared at the simple band of metal
then looked up to see two brown eyes shining from beneath the hat
brim.
"John?"
"Yes, Sascha?"
"My God, how could you? I mean... Shit!" Luka walked off.
"Oops. Maybe we should have given him two Iced Teas." Cyril frowned
as John ran after his husband.
"I told you to leave well enough alone." Charles said brusquely.
* * * * *
John found Luka seated on a bench overlooking the lake.
"I'm sorry, Luka. I did not mean to upset you."
"I suppose all of this was Cyril's idea of a joke."
"Partially. He thought you wouldn't recognize me. At least that part
worked."
"You're not ashamed to be seen looking like that?"
"No. I mean it's not as if I plan to make a habit out of it. And
apart from you and our friends, who's going to know?"
Luka turned to face John and really looked at him. Apart from the
earrings, makeup, and hat, he hadn't altered his appearance too
drastically.
"Well? Should I go and change?"
"Do you want to?"
"Doesn't matter. Regardless of the clothes and all the rest of it.
I'm still John Truman Carter.
"In women's clothes."
"Yes. But clothes don't make the person. I'm a man in love with
another man. The same goes for you. What the world thinks of me
doesn't matter. Hell, as far as most people are concerned, my loving
you is the equivalent of me wearing a tutu and tights. And quiet as
it's kept, the same goes for you, Sascha. Your being in love with me
has probably let you in for some rude comments but you ignore them."
"That's different."
"How? Do you feel any less of a man for loving me?"
"No, but..."
"Neither do I. My cock didn't fall off. My testicles are right where
you left them this morning, albeit nestled nicely in black silk
briefs, but there still there. I'm the same person you made love to
this morning. If I hadn't put on these clothes and asked you to kiss
me, would you do it?"
"Of course."
"In front of all these people?"
"Sure."
"Like I said, it's the same thing. You know who you are and what
anyone else thinks doesn't matter." John smiled and crossed his legs.
"You do look nice."
"Why thank you, husband."
"Give me a kiss."
"There goes my lipstick.", John leaned over.
"Hey, Roberta! What are you looking at?", a young man yelled to his
friend.
"Nothing.", "Roberta" Romano sighed. It figured, there was no way he
could tell anyone that he saw Carter in drag without revealing his
own presence at the parade. Damn, he knew he should have brought his
camera.*
The End
Author's Note:
* Once more with feeling! Thank you Invicta. Only fools rush in where
angels fear to tread. Readers, don't hesitate another moment.
Read "Hail to the Chief", you'll be very glad you did. KPP
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n