Page 10 of Fever Dream
“I’ll sign whatever you want,” I assure him, taking a black marker and his hat from his outstretched hands. I sign my name with a flourish and then Harrison and I squeeze in with the tour group and get our own personalised tour of the Opera House.
“Well, look at you,” Harrison says as we step into the foyer. “Looks like you have more success batting your lashes at the men than the ladies.”
“I do like to keep an open mind,” I wink back at him. I expect more teasing, but he just clears his throat and walks away from me so I drop it. Honestly, I know there’s a lot of homophobia in sports circles but I have never had any issue with who people love. I had a huge following with the rainbow supporters back home in Melbourne and I loved taking photos with that crew because there was not an ounce of judgement amongst the lot of them.
Besides, I’ll flirt with anyone if it means I get to see the way Harrison is looking up at the vast expanse of the concert hall like he’s doing right now.
We make our way through all the theatres and halls and studios and then the tour guide whisks Harrison and me backstage after the rest of the group head outside. We see the dressing rooms and the rehearsal spaces and then he sneaksus onto the stage where I of course simply must misquote Shakespeare and Harrison laughs at me.
Afterwards, we take a ferry over to Watsons Bay and walk along the clifftops before stopping for lunch on the wharf. We eventually return to Circular Quay which is where we stumble across the promised souvenir shop, complete with rows of requisite stuffed Australian animals that are all made in China, and we try to find the kitschiest gift for each other in the store.
“Ah ha!” Harrison yells triumphantly as he discovers a display case full of clip-on koalas. He buys a whole set and then ceremoniously clips them all over my top before he stands back to laugh at me. Me with my t-shirt full of colourful clinging koalas flying little Australian flags. I get my own back when I find a fake Akubra hat threaded with plastic shark teeth and a set of dangling corks.
“I look like Crocodile Dundee,” Harrison grumbles when I push it on his head. Pity about all those delicious curls being squished but needs must.
“Welcome to Straya, mate,” I grin, snapping a selfie of the pair of us in our hat and clip-on koalas. I even manage to find a couple of green and yellow bumbags decorated with boxing kangaroos. Harrison lets me clip his around his waist, pretending to sigh the whole time. We look patently ridiculous, but I love that Harrison will play along with me as we snap more selfies that I guarantee will be going up on my Instagram.
There is still time left in the day so I drag Harrison over to The Rocks, attracting a fair bit of attention in our cute getups on the way.
“This is one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Australia. Goes right back to the First Fleet,” I tell him as we wander through the old heritage buildings.
“Mate, I come from England,” Harrison laughs. “This is not old. There’s a Saxon church near my village that was built in the eleven-hundreds.”
“Hmm. You make a fair point,” I mull. “How about we just go get a drink instead.”
“That sounds like a plan I can get on board with,” Harrison grins at me from behind the swinging corks on his hat. How a guy can look so adorable while wearing a fake Akubra hat and swatting away swinging corks is beyond me. “Just don’t forget we have an early start tomorrow so just a couple of drinks.”
“Gotcha,” I agree. “We’ll keep it in on the DL.”
“Let’s go then.”
“Fair warning. I cannot guarantee that you will not be hit on a multitude of times dressed like that,” I say, sweeping my hand down his body.
“Is it the shoes? Are they too much?” Harrison mulls.
“It’s definitely the shoes,” I laugh, clipping one of my spare koalas onto his top and slipping my arm through his as we set off in search of a decent watering hole.
CHAPTER 5
harrison
We do not keep it on the DL. At least that is the only conclusion I can draw when I wake up the next morning, face smooched up against a cushion on a sofa in a house I have never been in before. My head pounds and I swipe at the dribble leaking from the side of my mouth.
I remember finding that cute little pub overlooking the Harbour yesterday afternoon. I also remember the hoots and hollers Casey and I attracted when we wandered in looking like something out of a bad Australian movie. And then there was that group of guys who recognised Casey and wanted to buy him a drink. And that two drink limit was very swiftly swallowed up by more free rounds and I’m pretty sure there might have been shots at one point?
I have no memory of where we ended up or how we even found our way back to wherever we are. Casey’s place I presume.
I sit up with a jolt, head throbbing and stomach protesting as I grab hold of my head. My t-shirt is stuck full of those little clip-on koalas, the ones I bought Casey yesterday, while that ridiculous hat with the hanging corks he bought me sits on the floor at my feet.
“Morning,” I hear from the direction of the stairs. I swivel my head that way to see Casey coming down the stairs, dressed only in a pair of blue and white stripped loose boxers and his blonde hair mussed from sleep. Even after a big night on the town the guy still manages to look like sex on a stick as my eyes get trapped by those delicious abs.
Shit. I really need to stop looking at Casey this way. He is supposed to be my patient. I am pretty sure I spent half the night dreaming about having him underneath me.
“What time is it?” I ask, trying to ignore that distracting body as he comes into the living room and sits down heavily beside me on the sofa.
“Late enough that we’re going to be in trouble,” Casey groans, falling back against the couch. My dick perks up as his arm brushes mine and I try to surreptitiously adjust myself while Casey’s eyes are closed.
“I might have a plan to get us out of that,” I reply, thinking hard. Well as hard as I can with my brain still pounding at the base of my skull and Casey’s distracting body barely inches from me.
