Authors: Amy Lane
Tags: #Paperback, #Novel, #GLBT, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporarygay, #M/M Romance, #dreamspinner press, #amy lane
ask.”
At that moment, Penny came out of the bathroom. Her voice was
rough but loud and overbright when she said “What"s up?”
“We"re trying to talk Xander into moving in with us!” Andi said,
apparently not bothered by the suddenly awkward silence.
Penny"s look could only be described as “stricken.” “Moving in?”
she asked in a weak voice, and Xander shook his head, looking
surreptitiously at Christian.
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Amy Lane
“We"ll see,” he said cautiously. “I… I don"t want to impose. I"m…
I"m not used to family. I may not be good at it.”
Penny closed her eyes and swallowed, then looked up brightly.
“We"re a good family, Xander. I think you"d be okay here.”
Years later he would remember her face. Her eyes had been a little
swollen and very bright, but they had been clear and accepting, and she"d
been looking at him with sympathy and kindness. It wasn"t until he was a
grown man that he realized that she"d been crying.
“YOU don"t want to live with my family?” Christian asked, his voice
choked and surly. They were walking to school, after Xander ate a stack
of pancakes that might stay with him all day. He was hoping so—the
warmth of his reception in Christian"s parents" home would stay with
him a lot longer.
“Your family"s great,” Xander murmured. Absurdly, he wished he
could take Chris"s hand as they walked down the residential road, but
there were too many kids on their own wanders to school.
“So why hesitate?” Chris backed up and looked at him, all of his
unhappiness written clear as day across his face. That was Christian,
open and transparent as a bay window over the ocean.
Xander looked away, then back into that open face. He knew his
own expression was closed and guarded, but he couldn"t help it. These
were difficult, complex thoughts, and he had a simple mouth.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, and Christian"s eyes widened.
“Here?”
Xander shook his head, frustrated with himself. When he was an
adult, he"d be better at this. He knew he would be.
“In general, genius! I just—” He grimaced. “It would be wrong. It
would be… like taking advantage of them. Your folks. They"re the nicest
people, you know? I don"t want to… you know. Betray their trust or
anything. That would be—” He pulled in a big gust of air.
“Wrong,” Chris conceded, and Xander smiled at him with such
terrible relief.
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29
“Yeah.”
“Maybe,” Chris said, looking fitfully at the concrete at his feet.
“Maybe you could still live with us. The kissing—we could do that not at
home. We wouldn"t have a lot of time to do it, right? But, well, we"d be
together. My folks would get you a dresser.” His voice sank to a whisper,
and he looked down at his shoes as he turned back to be shoulder to
shoulder with Xander. “You wouldn"t have to live out of a garbage bag.”
Xander sighed. “Garbage bags aren"t a big deal,” he said, meaning
it.
Chris looked around surreptitiously, and then
he
grabbed Xander"s
hand. “They are when that"s your world,” he said, sounding wise.
“Maybe you and me, we"ll be slow, and in nooks and crannies and
places. Because—” They heard chatter coming up the walk from a side
street, and Chris dropped his hand. “Because I"d rather you be safe, and
have a home, Xander. If that means we gotta wait until college, then
that"s what it means, okay?”
It was a little sound, almost a whimper, but Chris looked at him
sideways, practically in triumph, and that was when Xander knew he"d
lost.
“Someday,” he said gruffly. “Someday, we"re gonna have a big
house, and it"ll be you and me. No one has to know what we do there,
but we"ll be a family, right? You and me?”
Chris met his eyes, and Xander fell into them. “That"s a deal, Xan.
You and me.”
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Amy Lane
Free At Last
WHEN Xander remembered high school as an adult, he would invariably
remember two things: his time on the court, with the entire community
screaming for the both of them as they worked, bloodied, and pounded
their way into magic by sweat, and tiny corners of time with him and
Christian, alone and protected and insulated from the world.
Xander did move into Christian"s parents" house when he turned
sixteen, and he took up residence on their couch. He and Christian would
sit next to each other and watch television, or eat breakfast or brush their
teeth, terribly conscious of the one moral imperative that they had set
themselves:
They. Must. Not. Touch.
They would walk to or from school, chatting about teachers and
Coach, or the injustice (or their own supremacy) of the last game, and
sometimes Xander wondered how the world couldn"t know that they
should be holding hands, because their muscles, skin, and bone were
practically screaming the truth:
They. Must. Not. Touch.
On the court, it was different. On the court they could high five,
low five, pat each other"s bottoms, bump each other"s hips, and that was
okay. One giddy night when they were juniors, as their team took State,
and the crowd surged onto the floor, Xander reached over Christian"s
shoulders and engulfed him in a terrific bear hug. Only Xander and Chris
knew that Xander had nuzzled through that thick gold hair and kissed the
shell of Christian"s ear through the sweat of the game. And that was
okay, no one noticed that.
On the court, they could touch.
That night, the rest of the team managed to start their showers first.
By the time the crowd let Xander and Chris into the locker room,
everyone else was on their way out, and Coach, needed at a press
conference (which they could tell pleased him no end), locked the doors
and told them just to make sure everything was shut before they left.
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31
They nodded and stripped off, both of them stepping into the spray
gratefully, because they had both soaked through their jerseys during the
game.
Xander wasn"t exactly sure when it occurred to him that he and
Christian were alone and naked and clean. He"d just finished soaping his
hair for the second time, and then rinsing, and he wiped off his eyes and
saw Christian, staring at him.
The two of them had avoided looking at each other personally.
Hell, they had avoided looking at
everyone
personally. They might be
gay, but that didn"t mean they spent their time gawking at the other boys
on the team. That felt like an abuse of trust, somehow, and they couldn"t
do it.
But here they were, giddy from victory, happy, thank-the-gods
clean,
and, well, naked.
They simply stared for a few moments, completely taken aback.
Xander began to focus on details then—Christian"s taut stomach, his
tight, wiry frame. Christian was six feet tall by now, and looking like he
might possibly grow another inch, but Xander was six foot five, and
definitely not finished growing. Christian was all tight, small muscles, a
rippled stomach, pale skin. Xander couldn"t stop looking at him. Chris
was… pretty.
Beautiful.
Xander didn"t want to think about what his own body looked like.
Freakishly tall, deathly white, a small mat of dark chest hair already
taking up residence between his pecs—not beautiful. Not Chris
.
But Chris was looking at him like he was something special, and he
managed a shy smile. He looked down Chris"s body and raised his
eyebrows at Chris"s private area, drooping large and soggy in a nest of
curly blond hair.
Chris"s grin turned cocky then, and he gave a little shrug and a
swaggering thrust with his hips that could only be called “adorable.”
Xander laughed then, and Chris, again without talking, reached down
bravely, seized his cock in his fist and stroked once, twice, three times.
His head tilted back, and his eyes closed, and Xander watched,
openmouthed, as that thing grew, doubled in size, became plump and
thick and long and huge.
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He wanted to touch it, but… but they were exposed, in the middle
of the locker room, and discovery—by anybody—would be disastrous.
He kept an eye out, his ears open, but he moved in behind Chris,
pulled him back, supported Chris against his naked body. Chris would be
safe in his arms.
Chris had been loved all his life,
protected
all his life. He relaxed
easily into Xander"s embrace, and started making breathy little moans as
he pleasured himself. Xander studied his profile, liking the way his
mouth tightened, the way he worried his lower lip with his teeth. He
wanted to close his eyes and bury his face in the hollow of Chris"s neck,
but he didn"t dare. It was his job to watch out for them. It was his job to
keep them safe.
It was almost over anyway. Chris had been quiet so far, keeping his
noises to himself, but suddenly the sound of his fist smacking in the wet
of the soap and water got loud, and he shuddered in Xander"s arms. He
groaned harshly, and Xander watched, transfixed, as his come shot out,
mixing with the water pounding on them and running down the drain.
They stood there, panting for a moment, and then a sound,
probably nothing, from outside made Xander stiffen. They separated
quickly, their naked skin peeling apart with reluctance, and both of them
turned toward the wall and started rinsing their hair as some sort of
cover.
In a minute, when it looked like nobody was coming, they breathed
out a sigh of relief. Xander tilted his head and threw the water out of his
eyes, and Chris grinned at him, that same cocky grin, but this time sleepy
and sated and proud.
“Next time, it"s your turn,” he said, giving Xander a meaningful
look at his privates. Xander blushed and nodded, and wondered at the
feeling of reluctance that trammeled up his words. That would be the
natural progression of things, wouldn"t it? And it wasn"t as though he
didn"t want to. Chris had felt wonderful in his arms, skin to skin. But
he"d also been helpless, defenseless against the world in the height of his
passion, and Xander….
Xander didn"t have a lot of good experiences being helpless, did
he? He"d been helpless against hunger, helpless against beatings,
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33
helpless against neglect. He… oh God. He loved Chris. He didn"t want
to be helpless with him.
But Chris was looking a little worried now, and Xander wondered
if maybe it wouldn"t be better to be helpless in Chris"s arms than strong
out of them, so he smiled shyly and said, “Yeah. Like we"ll ever get a
chance like this again, right?”
Chris laughed, the sound resigned, and rolled his eyes as he shut
off his shower. “Graduation"s not that far off,” he said philosophically.
“You know, pretty soon we"ll be dorm mates, and every college movie
I"ve ever seen says that we get to hump like bunnies!”
That made Xander grin for real, because he and Chris had stayed
up late all summer, watching every movie about college they could get
their hands on, looking at each other from the corner of their eyes and
hoping with everything they had that it might be true.
“Do bunnies hump a lot?” Xander asked now, knowing that maybe
the one person in the world he could joke with was Chris. The two of
them moved to their lockers, grabbing towels from the barrier and
wrapping them around their waists. Xander"s erection, rampant and
painful when Chris had been in his arms, had since withered. It was
almost like they really were brothers in truth now, and Xander was
relieved. He had a place in his brain that would do that, and it was easier
that way, because he already felt like a walking hard-on for the guy.
“I plan on finding out,” Chris said, with a waggle of his eyebrows,
and Xander laughed in agreement. A year and a half. They had a year
and a half until graduation, and they would probably have maybe half a
dozen opportunities like this one. Maybe, by the time they could actually
sleep together, like grown-ups, he would have learned to trust, and Chris
might never have to know how very scared it made him to think about
laying back in his Chris"s arms and giving himself over to love.
Xander trusted on the court—that was for damned sure.
Running the boards, he
knew
Chris would be there for the bounce