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ever since “Bigot-man” had showed up. One less thing for that acid

tongue to drip bile on. One less thing to not try to ignore. One more thing

to hide.

“Something?” Xander asked, feeling hope. They could talk to Leo.

They could trade to another team, keep the house here, and play

somewhere else. Hell, they could come out and let the NBA make the

choice. Something. Anything. Anything but two condoms in their

pockets, every third home game of the month.

“Let"s not get traded mid-season, and then, yeah. You"re right.

Something"s got to change. We"ll change it. I swear.” His breath caught.

“God, Xan, I love you. You know that, right? You know… I mean, we

never say it, because our whole lives, it"s just been us. It"s like saying it

is sort of silly, but….” Chris shook his head again, and Xander reached

across the distance between them and pulled him against his chest.

“It"s not silly,” Xander whispered. “I love you too.”

“You need to eat more,” Chris muttered, probing at his chest.

“Ibuprofen and Tums are not a good breakfast.”

98

Amy Lane

“It was Pepto and a croissant,” Xander said back with dignity.

“And it"s better than vodka.”

Chris tried a smile. “Sometimes there"s tomato juice—that"s good

for me, right?”

“No,” Xander said seriously. “No.”

Chris huddled in his arms, a child seeking protection. Xander

wondered how it was that they"d managed to be more grown-up at

fifteen than they were at twenty-eight.

XANDER KARCEK pounded down the glossy wood of the court, thigh

muscles straining, huge biceps pumping, and sweat dripping into his

eyes from his black bangs. The ball sang against the boards in front of

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