and pain.
He came to a stop on his back, staring up at the arched ceiling of
the gymnasium, wondering why they couldn"t seem to get that balloon
wreath from the last rally from around the pipes at the top. He was pretty
sure most of his body was bruised, and not sure if his ankle was going to
be walkable, but for a moment, a sweet, soft, wondrous moment, he
honestly thought about just laying there and letting the world spin around
him while he drifted off to sleep.
And then Chris"s voice woke him up. Chris was yelling at Coach!
“Goddammit, leave him alone! He"s starving and he"s exhausted,
and he"s doing his goddamned best, okay!” Xander"s shoulder was being
shaken, and he looked dreamily up at Chris, pretty Chris, who had kissed
him a month ago, and who had not kissed him since. Xander would
really like to kiss him again, but there never seemed to be any time.
Chris was a good boy, and went home after practice, and Xander had
only a couple of hours to do his homework before going to work. They
might have had other time, they might have time after school on non-
practice days, spare moments on weekends, between games, but Chris
insisted that Xander needed his sleep. Was he not kissable anymore, now
that he was a grown-up? Xander longed to ask him that, but right now it
would just be groovy if the room stopped spinning.
“Xan, you okay, man? That was an epic roll. Say something, right?
I didn"t see your head hit, but you"re looking out of it!”
Xander smiled a little. “Just thinking about a nap, brother. You
think I could take one right here?”
“No,” Coach said decisively, and then he leveraged a meaty
shoulder under Xander"s arm to help him up. Chris got the other side,
and in spite of the fact that Coach was bigger, and probably stronger,
Xander found it just felt safer to put all his weight on Christian"s
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