Page 17 of The Locker Room
back of his gray sweatshirt all day.) The inside of Xander"s mouth was
The Locker Room
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tender and sore, and Chris was inexperienced. A clumsy foray by an
enthusiastic tongue made Xander whimper and had Chris pulling back,
looking both exhilarated and frightened.
“You… you don"t want?”
Xander"s chest was heaving and his hands were shaking, and
without meaning to, he clenched his fingers even tighter over Chris"s
hand. “I want,” he muttered, shocked. His life had been… running.
Running, finding shelter, finding food. Brushing his teeth had been a
challenge. Clean laundry had been a difficult priority. Taking a shower
was a matter of stealth and strategy.
In all of this, he"d not been listening to his body"s other priorities.
He"d followed Chris because he had to, because Chris was all that was
light and kindness, and Xander craved him. He"d never thought that
Chris"s body—hismalebody—was something else to crave.
Chris"s smile was blinding then. “You want? Me? It"s—” He
flushed. “I mean, you know, that means we"re… you know—”
Yeah, Xander knew. He knew the regular word and the street
words. He knew the word the teachers would use and the word the
students would use. But none of those words mattered, not the politician
word and not the taunts that would be leveled at them if anyone found
out. All that mattered was Chris.
“Chris,” he said, marshalling his thoughts, his runaway heartbeat,
the aching surge in his groin. “You understand, right? A foster home
would mean I"d leave.”
Chris brought his shaking hand, the one that had been cupping
Xander"s chin, to his own mouth, and he shook his head. “Aww…
Xander. Christ. You… you can"t stay… not if—” His eyes started to
